I remember where I was

The 25th anniversary of 9/11 is almost upon us. It’s hard to believe that a quarter century has passed since this brazen and deadly terrorist attack on American soil. The intervening years have failed to diminish the mind-numbing statistics that haunt this infamous date.

On that day, 19 terrorists planned and subsequently hijacked four airliners. They then flew one into each of the Twin Towers at the World Trade Center in New York City. The third plane crashed into the Pentagon, the headquarters of the United States Department of Defense, in Arlington County, Virginia. The fourth plane crashed in a rural Pennsylvania field during a passenger revolt.

A total of 2996 lost their lives that day, including the 19 murder-suicide hijackers. Countless more died prematurely in the years that followed from exposure to the toxic dust that engulfed lower Manhattan after the Twin Towers fell. The New York skyline was forever changed in an instant, along with aviation security. The death and destruction which occurred that day, in the heart of the world’s financial capital, was simply beyond comprehension.

Much like the generation before me who recall where they were when Kennedy was assassinated, my generation can recall where they were when news broke that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Centre. I was in Hong Kong at the time.  I’d flown in from Tokyo a few days earlier, on 8 September, after spending three weeks on secondment training and supporting the executive team in Japan. Tokyo has become the company’s most problematic APAC office, so I'd been seconded to help with its reformation.

On September 11, APAC’s Regional Director flew in from Sydney late in the afternoon and joined me for a debrief over dinner. We returned to our hotel around 8:30pm. At the time, we were staying at Bishop Lei International House, an unassuming three-star establishment in Mid-Levels on Hong Kong Island. Its rooms were tiny, barely fitting a bed and side table, and its amenities were limited. For example, the only English-language channel on television was CNN. As a result, I'd often watch it after dinner, which I did that day.

At 8:49pm, minutes after turning on the TV, CNN cut live to scenes of smoke pouring from the World Trade Centre's North Tower. American Airlines Flight 11 had struck the building just three minutes earlier, at 8:46 am local time. Along with millions of others, I watched live as a second plane struck the South Tower soon after. I still remember seeing United Airlines Flight 175's fuzzy silhouette coming into view as a news anchor speculated on what was happening. I thought to myself, the camera angle made the plane look unusually close to the unfolding tragedy. 

As the hours passed, I watched live as the Pentagon was struck, flights were grounded across the USA, and each tower fell. I kept watching until 7 World Trade Centre collapsed at 5:20am Hong Kong Time. I eventually grabbed a few hours of sleep. Marty Lederhandler's award-winning image above poignantly captured the surreal nature of the terrorist attacks. Cloudless blue skies. A serene Empire State Building. It really was just another sunny day in the Big Apple.

I recall vividly just how hypnotic the news coverage was. The scenes being broadcast live simply beggared belief. There was also a palpable fear that high-profile buildings were being targeted globally. At the time, my company’s Hong Kong office was based in the Bank of China building. Its distinctive diagonal facade made it one of the city’s most iconic towers. If terrorists were targeting high-profile buildings worldwide, then this was an obvious target. Should I stay away from the office?

At one point, emotionally overwhelmed, I tried calling my parents to tell them I loved them. However, they were driving through Portugal on a tour bus, without international roaming access. They remained unaware of the news unfolding in the USA until they reached their hotel later that evening. Real-time online messaging was still years away. When the planes crashed into the World Trade Centre, it was a full six years before the first iPhone. There was no WhatsApp, Facebook, Twitter or Instagram. 

As you can imagine, very little work got done in the office the following day. Instead, we sat around recalling the events from the previous night, reflecting on the profound shock and utter disbelief we all felt. Newspapers delivered to the office became a stark reminder of everything we’d witnessed. Hong Kong’s tabloid newspapers printed graphic images on their front page. This included photos of people clinging to pillars near the ugly gash American Airlines Flight 11 had carved through the North Tower, and of people falling to their deaths. It was interesting insight into cultural differences. 

Over the years I’ve become used to Chinese media publishing graphic images Australian media outlets would consider gratuitous in nature. That said, much to my surprise, the Australian Financial Review's front page on September 12 led with "The Falling Man", a confronting image of a jumper.

On 13 September I caught an evening flight back to Sydney. As fate would have it, I was flying Ansett Australia. While my Boeing 747 flew south, Australia’s second-largest airline collapsed into liquidation. All flights were cancelled shortly after 10:00 pm, and its aircraft were grounded. My plane, already in the air, was one of the last to land the following morning. If memory serves me well, the last plane, an overnight flight from Perth, landed shortly after us. I recall sitting in the aircraft’s front cabin, which was almost completely empty. It was clear then that 9/11 was already taking its toll on the aviation industry as people deferred or cancelled their travel plans.

Months later, I was in New York on business. I recall visiting Ground Zero and seeing the hole in the ground filled with debris where the towers once stood. Skyscrapers in the surrounding neighbourhood still bore the scars of the day. This included broken windows, damaged facades and boarded-up street-floor tenancies. It was hard to comprehend that the South Tower, and its 108-floor outdoor observation deck I’d once enjoyed, was gone. That's a retrospective post for another time. A decade later, I took Mum and Dad to visit the 9/11 memorial, just months before Dad passed away.

I read recently that Madeline Amy Sweeney, a flight attendant on Flight 11, was born just two months after me. She was murdered at the age of 35. As I reflect on my life and last year’s 60th birthday celebration, her death resonates deeply. I have so many wonderful memories from the last 25 years, while Amy was cruelly denied the same experience. This really brings home the tragic human toll of that fateful day. Likewise, my memories of Hong Kong will be forever linked with those of 9/11.

One final note. I've illustrated parts of this post with photos I took during my second visit to the Big Apple in 1998. A friend, Ian, and I decided on the spur of the moment to take advantage of a discount fare and spend a week in Manhattan. I'll share more about this trip in another post. While in New York, we visited the South Tower Observation Deck. As you can see, the view from 420 metres above street level was truly spectacular.

A tale of two hotels

Our recent trip to New York wasn’t all colourful sights and sounds. During our stay, two hotels unexpectedly gave me cause for thought. I was reminded how precious life is, and to live each day to the full.

On our first night in town, Garry and I took a short detour past the Casablanca Hotel. Thirteen years ago, I stayed here with Mum and Dad during our whirlwind visit to the Big Apple. The hotel was less than 100 metres from Times Square, making it easy for Dad to take in its dazzling billboards and energetic vibe.

Our detour was well timed. The following day, we paused to remember the anniversary of Dad’s death. Dad loved New York. He was delighted to tick it off his bucket list, barely three months before he died. Mum was also grateful for the experience. Although she would have visited a few museums if we’d had more time. It was sad to reflect that in the intervening years, Mum has also passed away.

On our final night in Manhattan, Garry and I walked past Hotel Edison while returning from the theatre. I stayed here as an exchange student while on a High School Arts Club trip to New York City in 1983. As students, we attended the ballet at the Lincoln Centre, watched La Cage aux Folles at the Palace Theatre, toured the Met and MOMA, and visited the United Nations.

It was a cathartic moment standing there reflecting on my life’s journey. The 18-year-old version of me stood here with his whole life stretching out before him, wondering where it would lead him. Now, 42 years later, the 60-year-old version of me was standing and looking back, wondering, “Have I used my time wisely? Would 18-year-old me be proud?”

It was a humbling experience to have a venue symbolically bookending my life’s journey. It was also a timely reminder to make the most of my remaining years. I think I’ve done OK. If I have any doubts, rereading this blog offers plenty of reassurance.

Reliving the glamour of flight

Our final day in the Big Apple ended on a high note. For years, I’ve wanted to take a closer look at the iconic TWA Terminal at JFK Airport. The building was originally designed by Eero Saarinen for Trans World Airlines (TWA) and opened in 1962. Saarinen is famous for many iconic structures, including the St Louis Gateway Arch.

The building features a soaring white concrete roof reminiscent of the Sydney Opera House’s sails. Two tube-shaped, red-carpeted corridors extend outwards from a central atrium. A series of 26 departure gates, long-since demolished, capped each corridor. For decades, images of the striking terminal recalled the glamour of commercial flying in the sixties.

The terminal closed when the last of TWA’s assets were sold to American Airlines in 2001. It sat idle until its conversion into a stunning boutique hotel that finally opened in 2019. Naturally, booking a night in this beautiful building has been on my bucket list ever since. Garry and I stayed there last Friday.

A night in the hotel made perfect sense after one of our suppliers, Triple 8, scheduled a meeting on Long Island. Their office is based in Port Washington, about 30km north of JFK Airport. We also had an early flight the following morning. After meeting with our supplier, they drove us to the airport and joined us for a drink and dinner at the hotel.

We kicked off the evening with cocktails in the Connie Lounge, a cocktail bar housed inside the cabin of a restored Lockheed Constellation airliner. We later learned that the TWA Terminal was originally built to support the airline’s Constellation fleet, the world’s most advanced airliner at the time. However, by the time the building was completed, Boeing had launched the larger 707 jet airliner. The larger, faster plane transformed the industry. rendering the building too small for the higher passenger volume it generated.

We then had dinner at Paris Café, located on a mezzanine level overlooking the hotel’s grand lobby. Afterwards, Garry and I spent an hour exploring the lovingly restored building. Clever little design features abound, including a row of payphones leading to the women’s toilet and a faux Solari board departure board. These mechanical departure boards were ubiquitous in airports worldwide in the 1960s, charming travellers with a whirring and flipping display of flight information.

The original terminal check-in lobby has been repurposed into a rather clever concept. The hotel leases individual check-in counters to local restaurants, which then offer guests a range of casual dining options. We grab a treat for dessert before retiring to our hotel room overlooking the terminal building. I’ll let my photos speak for themselves.

The following morning, we caught the Air Train to Terminal 8 and checked in for our flight to Sint Maarten. Our flight departed at 7:00am, so we were among the first passengers to arrive in American Airlines’ new Soho Lounge. The lounge is operated jointly with British Airways and opened in late 2022.

Wow! This lounge is nothing like the soulless, spartan complex I regularly frequented more than a decade ago. It features, among other things, a cosy back room with a roaring gas fireplace and padded leather booth seat dining. The food on offer was also the equal of any Qantas or British Airways lounge. It was an awesome way to finish our time in the USA.

Work and Play

New York is unlike any other city on earth. Day or night, the streets of Manhattan are humming with relentless energy. The city is always awake and constantly on the move. Traffic is everywhere. People fill the sidewalk at all hours. The night sky glows with reflected light. The vibe is unmistakable. It’s infectious. You feel like the city is going places - with or without you.

Yet despite everything, the city feels a little underwhelming this time. The novelty of the Big Apple has worn off. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve been here. At least a dozen or more separate trips over four decades. Once we're done with this trip, I'm not sure I'm in a hurry to come back.

Since arriving on Monday, Garry and I have filled our free time between meetings with a random selection of activities. Most are return visits to sights we’ve experienced before. For example, on Tuesday, we visited the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum.  I've always loved its distinctive Frank Lloyd Wright–designed spiral gallery. I’ve been here several times before. However, it was a first for Garry.

This time, the museum's central rotunda was hosting an exhibition by Rashid Johnson. It's a rather odd collection of floating shelves, hanging palms and layered wall panels. For me, though, the most memorable highlight was seeing Franz Marc’s quirky Yellow Cow painting. While I’m not a huge fan of his work, there’s something oddly mesmerising about this joyful bovine.

Afterwards, we crossed 5th Avenue and walked back to Columbus Circle through Central Park. Our route took us past many of the park’s popular spots, including the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis Reservoir, the Obelisk, Belvedere Castle, Bow Bridge and Bethesda Fountain. We both marvelled at the geese bravely standing on the frozen lake alongside Bethesda Terrace, waiting patiently for tourists to toss them another meal.

On Tuesday evening, we took the train to Greenwich to catch up with Aedhmar and Kelvin. Over the years, they’ve become tremendous confidants, business mentors, and good friends. It’s hard to believe it’s been two years since we last saw Aedhmar in London. As always, dinner turned into a lengthy night as we debated the future of our business and caught up on our respective lives. We missed the last train home and had to catch an Uber back to Manhattan. We finally rolled into bed shortly after 3:00am.

Yesterday was a recovery day. After a quiet morning, Garry and I walked across Manhattan to Hudson Yards. We’d hoped to climb the Vessel. However, it was closed. Instead, we walked the High Line as far as Little Island at Pier 55. The island is an artificial structure built over the Hudson River. It features a landscaped public park with contoured hills and an amphitheatre. A hilltop lookout offering uninterrupted views of Lower Manhattan and New Jersey.

Little Island opened in 2021, a few years after our last time in New York. Hence, it was on my bucket list for this trip. The island is supported by 132 pot-shaped structures, known as "tulips", which are suspended above the water. The tulips vary in height, between 4.6 and 18.9 metres above the waterline. It’s a fascinating structure. 

Last night we ticked off another bucket list experience. Our evening was spent watching the New York Knicks basketball team trounce the LA Clippers at Madison Square Garden. You can learn more about it here.

 

Today, after a lazy start, we filled the afternoon with some industry research. This included a visit to the New York Library to see the original Winnie the Pooh and Charles Dickens writing desk, and a visit to Fao Schwarz, an upmarket toy store still decked out in its Christmas trimmings. We also made a quick detour to the Rockefeller Center to see its famous Christmas tree (a 75-foot-tall Norway Spruce) and seasonal ice skating rink.

We finished our day with a quick trip to the US Intrepid aircraft carrier museum. However, we barely had time to tour the US Growler, a first-generation nuclear missile submarine, view exhibits on the hangar deck and explore the command island superstructure before it was time to go. Our pre-theatre dinner tonight was at Barbetta, an Italian restaurant on Restaurant Row, a block off Times Square. Our friends Jacqui and Mandy recommended it after dining there last year. It was a classic, old-school Manhattan local neighbourhood establishment.

Tonight’s Broadway performance was Six: The Musical. I’ve always wanted to see this show about Henry the Eighth’s six wives. On paper, it promises a lot. Six talented women knocking out power ballads for 90 minutes.  Sadly, the experience we got was rather mixed. Two performers were exceptional, two were average, and two weren't up to the task. Garry hated it. I desperately tried to like it, but ultimately left disappointed. 

Afterwards, we consoled ourselves with a mouthwatering diabetic treat from the aptly named Bakery & Desserts in Times Square. That’ll be 16,344 steps today, thank you! 

Tomorrow we're off to Long Island to spend time with Triple 8, a supplier we've never met in person. They're also taking us for dinner at the TWA Hotel at JFK Airport. This hotel is another bucket list item. Watch this space!

UPDATE: 10 January

Follow this link to learn more about our time at the TWA Hotel. It was awesome!