I read a poem a while back that said “real New Yorkers” don’t visit the 9/11 Museum. It’s only for tourists. It made me sad, soul-sad, in a way I can’t even describe. I thought about my own reaction when I visited. It was one of only two times in my life I burst into tears, shocking myself. I didn’t feel it coming, until it was there in all its’ raw power. The emotion that wells up unexpectedly is a part of our human-ness. I’ve thought of that poet’s words often, feeling a little lost for him, for his cynicism. … Continue reading Real New Yorkers (9/11/16)