The twin towers were the proudest symbol of New York City. They were it's tallest, most prominent and elegant buildings, soaring 110 stories into the sky.

The twin towers were the heart of the World Trade Center. Ten million square feet of office space overlooking the financial district, the harbor and midtown. From the twin towers, the world was a busy, quiet place; millions of people below buying and selling in a silent frenzy.

The twin towers were born out of a spirit of cold, hard capitalism. They weren't a center where world trade happened, they were the center of world trade. They were the heart of New York City because they were it's soul incarnated. If one could take the spirit of the New Yorker and forge it into something real, the twin towers would be it: Unashamedly massive, capitalistic, out for it's own.

They twin towers were taken down on September 11, 2001 when two hijacked planes were crashed into them. For those of you who don't live in New York, it's hard to explain quite what it means to see them gone. The best way to explain it would be to imagine you lived in beautiful, green, rolling hills until a vicious act of unprovoked violence killed your heroes and blasted your town to Death Valley.

The Twin Towers, not three blocks away from Stuy, were, when I stayed in the city, where I spent my after school. I can't even get my head around them being gone. Today, I thought of going to the WTC Borders and picking up a book. The day before, I thought of going to the WTC Krispy Kreme to get a hot Krsipy Kreme. Tomorrow, I'll miss the pretzels from the basement. The day after that, I'll mourn not being able to climb to the top and get a panaromic look at the wonder that is New York City.

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