This Used To Be My Playground

This used to be my playground (used to be)

This used to be my childhood dream

This used to be the place I ran to

Whenever I was in need

Of a friend

Why did it have to end

And why do they always say

Don't look back

Keep your head held high

Don't ask them why

Because life is short

And before you know

You're feeling old

And your heart is breaking

Don't hold on to the past

Well that's too much to ask

This used to be my playground (used to be)

This used to be our pride and joy

This used to be the place we ran to

That no one in the world could dare destroy

-Theme from "A League Of Their Own"

I shot this picture in 1986 from the balcony of my boyfriend's apartment at Independence Plaza, 310 Greenwich Street, NY, NY. I pulled it out of my photo album--you can see the aged page it's on..and scanned it. See the broom handle at the bottom? I was probably sweeping the terrace and ran back inside to get my camera and take the picture. Eventually I moved in. I lived there for 2 years.

I want to write a little tribute to the World Trade Center. I have nothing new or exciting to say about September 11. I was devastated! (yes--only person in the world to feel like that) I will never be the same! (cry me a river, I did not lose any friends or relatives)

I went on holiday to New York City in the summer of 1985 with a friend. I met a guy and we looked at each other and fell in love, blah, blah. By the end of the week we were inseparable. The only thing was that he was....wait for it.....

African American.

You can imagine the thrill and joy that generated. Remember this was 20 years ago!

My mom and dad were beyond furious. Apparently all the talk about We Are All God's Children and All People Are Equal had a clause (unless one of those dark types is dating your daughter).

But that is a story for another day. During this time of upheaval, I commuter dated for a year. I'd fly from Columbia to Newark. Then after arriving in Newark I'd take the bus into the city. The stop was at the World Trade Center.

I'd always look up at the towers and a thrill would shoot through me. I'm a sophisticated woman, I'd think. Look at me, a goober from South Carolina. I'm in the most exciting city on earth. If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere...hey, that sounds as if it would make a good song.

When I waited, weeping, at the bus stop to go back to South Carolina, the Towers would always speak to me. We'll be here for you, they'd say. We'll always be a beacon. Come back soon.

When I got lost in the city, I'd always look to the Towers for guidance. I could get my bearings. Towers--south. Anything else-north.

Such a thrill to get into the special elevator at the WTC that didn't stop. It was for the tourists. It shot 88 stories into the sky.

"Remember the story about the plane that crashed into the Empire State Building back in the 40s and some people were trapped in the elevators," my boyfriend said as we boarded.

"It's worth it!" I replied, shivering with delight. "WHEE! I CAN FEEL MY EARS POP!"

"YOU CAN SEE THE WHOLE WORLD FROM HERE!" I said, running all over the observation room like a five year old.

And the last time I visited the Towers, I was with my husband of four days. We did the elevator, we did the observation deck, I looked up at the Towers and said Thank you. I'm living in South Carolina now, but I will bring my children to see you.

And on September 10, 2001, at 4:26 PM, I clicked "yes" to Priceline air tickets. We would take Madeleine, age 3 1/2, to see the Lion King on Broadway before her baby sister arrived at Christmastime. Then I ran to teach my night class. Yes! I really did. Honest to God. September 10, 2001.

My children will never see the Towers. Goodbye old friends.