What it was like living ten blocks from where the bomb went off in Manhattan
‘At first, I assumed it was a similar incident to the 2015 gas explosion in the East Village’
Every day we hear about, and often turn a blind eye to, terror attacks – many overseas, many within the countries we live in. I’ll be the first to admit that I can’t begin to imagine what it’s like to live in a place constantly under threat, and I have no idea how to empathize with the victims of such attacks.
Although I have lived in London and New York, two cities that have witnessed major counts of terrorism with the 7/7 bombings and 9/11 respectively, it’s easy to feel a sense of detachment when it comes to this sort of news – especially when you’re lucky enough to not have personal connection with any of the victims. You collectively mourn with your nation, but then you go about your day, and push it to the back of your mind. You probably even roll your eyes at newly enforced security measures that make your travel time just that much longer.
However, considering it was less than a week after the 15th anniversary of 9/11, the bombing in Manhattan hit very close to home for New Yorkers. It occurred within my neighborhood after I had returned home from grocery shopping on West 25th Street, and just before I ventured out again to buy cold medicine.
At first, I assumed it was a similar incident to the 2015 gas explosion in the East Village, which had been close to my freshman dorm – a devastating occurrence, but not a direct attack. Relieved to hear that there were no fatalities this time, I went to bed.
As the list of suspects and the truth surrounding Saturday night’s events began to develop, it was amazing to observe how New Yorkers didn’t pause, but went about their business, proving to those behind the attack that they hadn’t been rendered too frightened to leave their homes – although that would be understandable.
When I went out on Sunday, there was a change in atmosphere closer to 23rd Street, which had been blocked off; the closed streets were flanked by news vans, and people gathered at the barricades, eager for a glimpse of the crime scene.
It evoked that sense of detachment, as I had been just beyond the danger zone, and was lucky enough not to have to worry about the “what ifs.”
Monday morning felt different. I was woken up early by my phone buzzing with an emergency alert that was sent to everyone in the surrounding areas. It was the first moment I was nervous to leave my apartment, although my uneasiness was quickly appeased by news that the police had apprehended the suspect.
Unfortunately, threats to the community follow all of us, wherever we go. What has to be remembered is that it could have happened anywhere, and have been caused by any kind of extremist. It cannot be used as an opportunity to spew hate at certain ethnic groups, as such uneducated and dangerous remarks cause the breakdown of relations between people. This is what we should fear most, because it in turn spawns the hatred that this type of immoral behavior rewards. It should be an opportunity for New York to unite more than ever, and I’m prouder than ever to walk out of my front door and call this city my current home.