''I'm concerned for the city,'' said Gary Foster, 42, a public relations official at a biotechnology firm at Rockefeller Center. ''I was already concerned with the potential of a severe economic downturn and was waiting for the impact to be felt by the city. I'm sure we will be going through a phase here where we will be inconvenienced. As for the long term, I'm just hoping that this city does not change radically.''
Perhaps not radically. But by any measure, this has knocked the wind out of a brash city in ways that became evident even before the first sun set on the rubble of the World Trade Center. One hour after the second tower tumbled, unnerved passers-by just south of Houston Street scattered as a police bomb squad towed away a truck that had been abandoned on King Street.
After that, in first the hours and then the days ahead, every parked, abandoned truck loomed as a potential bomb. The buzz of low-flying military jets or police helicopters inevitably drew anxious glances from pedestrians. The wail of sirens was no longer the white noise backdrop to life in a lively city.
"Anxiety Knocks the Wind Out of a Once-Brash City." New York Times, Sept. 16, 2001