On September 11, 2001, I awoke early to look at apartments across New York City. After visiting an apartment in Brooklyn I planned to never step into again, I stopped at a bodega for a coffee. On the small television behind the counter, the clerk was watching the news of a plane crashing into one of the World Trade Center towers. Without listening closely, I assumed that it must have been a small craft and pilot error. In the moment, I could not conceive of it being deliberate. After hopping on the subway and reaching midtown, I heard about the second crash and hearsay of others near DC. From my vantage near the library I could see the columns of smoke rising from the towers, and watched them both eventually collapse. In the days and weeks that followed grew a sense of unity that was unique in my lifetime, a collective hurt stronger than our many differences. Much of the world offered its heartfelt support, despite our status as a fading superpower. That support faded over the yea...
a retired member of the superhero community still trying to fight the good fight