(September 11, 2021) 20 years ago, I was in the Doublespace office on 26th st and the West Side Highway, looking south as just after the first plane hit the World Trade Center. My partner Jane and I watched as the second plane hit, as the towers burned, then fell. We watched as thousands of people, many covered in ash, walked stunned up the Westside Highway. We watched the smoke blow over the financial district and over Brooklyn. The devastation was unimaginable, the repair inconceivable. It was surreal. It was indelible. It was horrible.