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Impact of the 9/11 attack
Social impacts after 9/11
Social effects of 9/11
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Recommended: Impact of the 9/11 attack
5:09 p.m. All day i’ve been staring out the window, making friends with the raindrops that tap against my windowpane. They have all raced to the edge of the canvas I stare through. The clouds move in synchronization, perfectly. The streets in Brooklyn this afternoon have been much calmer than ever before, maybe because it’s raining. But nothing stops us New Yorkers, nothing at all. But out of all days, today is the day they’ve all seem to go quiet. It’s not 9/11, so why’re they silent?
Why have the taxis stopped honking their horns? Why have the businessmen stopped talking on their phones? Why’re the kid gangsters not picking on little Tommy today? Did they all die in this little rain storm? Have we been nuked by Russia?
I don’t know.
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The pandemonium is hilarious on the twenty-third floor, where I have settled in from the southern parts of Michigan.
My name is Carolyn Burgess, i’m here because of rehab. I was an alcoholic, an addict, you name it. I don’t care what you call me, i’ve been called every name in the book. But people like to call me the most famous, yet infamous, word: bitch. As I look outside the window again, the raindrops continue racing down. I can hear a few taxi horns here and there, but come on, it’s rush hour.
I need to hear, “Whatta
Silence — the sound of quiet, the state of mind, the lack of meaning — all these pertain to its definition. Communication is expanding, noise is increasing, music is becoming more obtainable as people search desperately for a moment of peace or a breeze of silence. As the scarcity of physical silence increases, its value as a rare commodity increases as well. The idiom “Silence is golden” may perhaps only grow closer to reality as time passes, as exemplified by the white noise machines or silent fans entering the market and fictionalized in Kevin Brockmeier’s short story, “The Year of Silence.” In light of this, Brockmeier explores the value of silence and noise in his story without putting one above the other. Through strange clues and hidden
“It got to be easy to look at New Yorkers as animals, especially looking down from some place like a balcony at Grand Central at the rush hour Friday afternoon.” (Tom Wolfe). “O Rotten Gotham” argues that New Yorkers are in a state of behavioral sink. It would not be long before a “population collapse” or a “massive die off”.
Following the 9/11 attacks, the United States came together with a staunch promise to “never forget” that day’s atrocities. Congressmen from opposing parties reached across the aisle and stood arm in arm at the Capitol to show their commitment to this pledge. But,when another terrorist attack had stunned New York City a century earlier, this promise did not exist. In 1920, a bombing on Wall Street rattled the city’s financial core and earned the title as the city’s worst terrorist attack until 2001. The assault came merely two years after the US debuted as a global superpower with World War 1’s end. Despite the attack on this newfound American identity, the bombing never found closure for proving for the first time that the US was not invincible.
Finally, on that rainy April morning, we made our way down to Ground Zero. As we entered the church, the smell of stale books and soggy clothing filled our noses. It was that smell of just coming out of a fresh rain, wet hair and wet faces surrounded us. Booths displaying medical stations, sleeping areas, and food stations were set up. They were frozen statues, the ghosts of the events that took place on September 11th and the weeks after. We shuffled through the pews and lined ourselves up at the front of the church.
The arrival to Manhattan was like an entry to a whole new world: from the sea, its breezes, color, and landscapes, to the heart of the city beating louder than ever at the Whitehall Terminal. I could smell New York’s bagels in Battery Park with a mixture of the most relaxing scents: the coffee people were holding while walking down the streets, the old walls of Castle Clinton ...
The cellphone rings breaking the tranquil morning at an apartment in New York City, half asleep, Robert picks up the phone only to hear, “Honey we are hit”. The line disconnected jolting him out of his sleep. He looked at his phone which displayed that the call was from his wife, tried to call back with no success, ‘What’s it all about’, he tried to sober up, having just returned home from the barracks he was just taking a long deserved rest. Another call broke his chain of thoughts, he picked up the call only to hear his sister sobbing on the other end urging him to watch the television. He switched the TV on just in time to see the clip of the collapse of the world trade center. He stood
"The sound of rain smacking down on my concrete patio about ten feet away from the typewriter, rain beating down on the surface of the big aqua-lighted pool out there across the lawn.... rain blowing into the porch and whipping the palm fronds around in the warm night air" (Thompson, 108)
People argue that Ground Zero is a place that someone would not want to visit. Yet, Berne states, “the first thing I noticed when I arrived on the corner of Vesey and Church Streets was a crowd” (175). Therefore, contrary to what people think it is indeed a place millions of people go to see and experience. People claim that Ground Zero is a place to solely go and look at literally nothing, but it is much more than that. When Berne first arrives at Ground Zero she attests, “nothing is what it first looked like, the space that is now ground zero. But once your eyes adjust to what you are looking at, “nothing” becomes something much more potent, which is absence” (175). People mask their emotions about the devastating event by simply proclaiming that the memorial site is simply a space full of nothing. On the contrary, Berne is trying to say that the empty space is everything. That space of nothing is the emptiness left by the destruction of millions of families, thousands of lives, and the United States as a whole. She also states that “the most striking thing about
And more recently, the people of New York and the world are now more prepared for an attack on public safety because of the terrorist attack on the World’s Trade Center. Each of these events sees people using tools against a group to become oppressed.
As they went down the empty- deserted highway it started to rain quite heavily. Arissa could hear the spattering of the raindrops crashing onto the window. Slowly she started to shut her eyes, due to exhaustion.
Once upon a time high above the earth, fluffy white clouds drifted through the atmosphere. In the clouds lived a family Droplet of water, round and content with life. For as long as I could remember, I spent my days lying on my back, relaxing and soaking up the sun's warm rays. One day, I took my usual place in the sun but the light didn't seem to be as bright. In fact, as the day went on, it grew darker and darker, loud claps of thunder shook the cloud, and the Droplet felt as if he were getting so heavy he could hardly move. This is called precipitation.
The downpour of rain has eased to a steady drizzle, leaving a humid, foggy, yet cold air looming over Gotham. Throughout the city, darkness engulfs every
and forth through the air. The mass of people moving looks like a field of
There is no such thing as silence here. Everything jumps out at once, like the feathers on a peacock, immediately catching your attention. There are uncountable masses of colorful blobs moving, but within that great glob, there are many people, each person moving with the powerful confidence of a lion. The buildings all loom over the people, a grand oak tree above thousands of ants, tying together this concrete landscape. There is a tangible atmosphere of wonder, and you are left in awe of such an astonishing place. This magnificent place is none other than Times Square in New York City.