I for one am deeply saddened by the London bombings, especially since I not only used to live in London and am familiar with the areas affected but because I used to take the Edgeware Road stop very frequently (it was right by one building I took classes in). The tube is scarier than the NYC transit system – it is in many places hundreds of feet underground (much farther than NYC) and the tracks and stations themselves are very narrow. If there is a problem, there aren’t many options so I can only guess what the fear must have been like for those trapped below.
In the aftermath, a new form of online news outlet seems to have emerged as well – photo sharing sites such as Flickr, which encourage users to share photos and comments in a communal setting. I suggest you go, look at the pics, read the stories and read the comments. It definitely makes you appreciate how fragile life really is…
As a NYC resident, and as someone who values his apartment for, among other reasons, its close proximity to the subway, I am definitely unnerved. If something were to happen to the 4-5-6, I can only imagine what it would do to my property value, my commute but most importantly my way of life. To me, the subway is one of the greatest things in the world and it’s the heart of my urban experience. If something were to happen to it, my internal compass would be totally thrown off. I thought I was hardened to this kind of stuff by now but I’m not – the panic that shot through me at 9:00 AM yesterday — when first my house phone rang (which I didn’t answer), then my cell phone rang (not a good sign) which I answered to hear Jessie say, “The underground has been bombed” to which I replied “Where?! NY or London?!” — is not something I like to feel.
As a brother, I am saddened that my parents may not let my sister study abroad in London now. She has been looking forward to this experience ever since I was there in 98, hoping to follow in my footsteps in a way and now who knows if she will go, if she’ll be allowed to go or if she even wants to go. She should go. I didn’t move out of Manhattan after 9/11. In fact, I did the opposite – I moved downtown in February, 2002. Jessie and I moved into our first apartment together 2 blocks north of Ground Zero and were part of the rebirth of downtown NYC.
The worst part about this attack is that the sound of sirens again to me is troubling. After 9-11, whenever I heard a siren, I thought “what disaster has just happened?” but that faded over time till it was a normal sound again – “Oh, that siren must be for a robbery, not a disaster; that ambulance probably is rushing a heart attack to the hospital, not a victim of a bombing, etc.” I’ve heard sirens a few times today and always waited to hear more. While I hate this feeling, I will not be cowed, I only hope it fades again, sooner rather than later.