In May of 1998 I made my first trip to NYC, in the company of my friend, Diana. It was a very short trip, just a couple of days, so there wasn’t time to see much more than a couple of landmarks. I fought my acrophobia enough to go to the observation deck of the Empire State Building.
To my surprise, I liked being up there, and took several photos on my crappy disposable camera. I would probably have taken more, but this was pre-digital, and I was cheap.
Later, we took the ferry to Ellis Island. During the transit, Diana pointed out the towers, and suggested that maybe we should head there next, as I might like to take some pictures from the other end of the island, too. I was a little nervous about going up still higher, but I liked the idea.
By the time we’d finished touring the Ellis Island memorial, though, I was physically and emotionally exhausted, and begged off.
“I mean, this won’t be my only trip to New York, and it isn’t as though the towers are going anywhere, right?”
May, 1998
