I vividly remember the 2011 earthquake here in New York City. I was working, at the time, at the website for the TODAY show (not the greatest fit for me, to be honest, but hey … it was a gig). I worked on the third or fourth floor of 30 Rockefeller Plaza with about 30 other people in a large, windowless room with garish orange walls (NBC did enjoy its petty tortures) and we had these hanging light fixtures above our bullpen of desks. I was busy typing up something inane, and suddenly noticed all those light fixtures suddenly … swaying, something we’d assuredly never seen them do before. It was a bit ominous, but that was pretty much the extent of it.
A couple of teeth-grinding years after that last seismic event, I managed to get protractedly “managed out” of my increasingly stressful job at TODAY, which was honestly the best for all parties concerned, although it certainly didn’t feel that way, at the time. After several months on the street, I finally landed the job I've held for the last eight years and six months. It has its issues, like any other gig, but overall, it’s great and I’m very happy to be there. My office is on the 31st floor of 7 World Trade Center.
Those of you playing along at home might remember the building that used to stand in the footprint of my current office building. On the morning of September 11, 2001, the former 7 World Trade Center had the ignominious distinction of being the building that completely collapsed despite not having actually been hit by any planes. Practically immediately after it was reduced to a smokey heap of rubble, conspiracy theories started to grow like kudzu about the reasons behind its collapse. Friggin’ books have been penned about it.
Anyway, despite the address's history and grim proximity to the 9/11 Memorial, it’s astonishing how one can put all that information to one side, so to speak, when simply concentrating on one’s job. I frankly don’t spend a lot of time dwelling on the fact that I work on basically the same plot of real estate where 2,996 people died horribly.
I don’t think about that fact very often … until days like today.
I was in my office, this morning, by around 8:30 am, having already been tasked from the evening before with chasing down some far-flung bits of interview video from our extensive archives. I spent most of my morning compiling all those assets and typing up a detailed report about their contents, and was about to hit “send,” when I suddenly felt a pronounced disturbance.
From a distance, 7 WTC looks like 1 WTC’s younger sibling. It’s perched in front of what some folks still insist on calling “The Freedom Tower” like a stumpy little runt, compared to the sweeping height of 1 WTC’s 104 floors and cloud-piercing spire. But, at 54 floors of its own, 7 WTC is still one tall drink of water, when you’re standing right in front of it. Technically, it’s the 28th tallest building in New York, if that makes any difference.
As such, those of us who are regularly teeming in any out of the thing like busy little ants are used to feeling the building literally sway, at times, or hearing the elevator shafts periodically groan during windy days. This usually happens without any compromise to the building’s integrity, and as odd as it sounds, one does get used to it.
But the shaking the building experienced this morning assuredly was not that, and in very short order, had my undivided attention.
My first thought, was “holy crap, what has hit us?”
I spun in my chair and looked out the window, but nothing looked off. The view across Manhattan looked bright, clear and bereft of any sign of trouble.
I suddenly started fielding text messages from colleagues in Brooklyn and then New Jersey and then Long Island, and it all immediately made sense.
Earthquake.
In the grand scheme of things — or thus far, at least — it wasn’t that big a deal. No great damage has been reported, and no lives have been lost. I’m sure people in California and other quake-prone points on the map are chuckling at what pussies New Yorkers are being about this. Fair enough.
Having completed my major tasks of the morning, I decided to clear the fuck out to evade the possibility of getting stuck in the building (or worse). Probably against my better judgement, I took the elevator down and walked home.
In the hysterical hours since, I’ve seen the above meme being widely circulated over social media, and someone else posted a pic of t-shirts for sale saying “I SURVIVED THE 2024 EARTHQUAKE.” I get it, and I suppose we can all feel free to giggle about how much ado about nothing it evidently was, but I’m not really ready to get that cocky about it, myself.
You may consider yourself to be one slick captain of industry with your shit well put together, but all it really takes is one fleeting shudder of Mother Nature to remind you of how fucking insignificant you truly are.
Yes, this morning was ultimately just a minor blip, comparatively speaking, but a series of aftershocks could still be on the way. We may not be out of the woods. And was it indeed a blip… or just an amuse-bouche before a larger entree?
If you honestly believe New York City is genuinely prepared to effectively handle a major earthquake, I’ve got a big, pretty bridge to sell ya.
I mean, for fuck’s sake, have you met our mayor?
Recent Comments