I was in the city for fashion week, and while many memories have faded, odd details remain – along with the shock and sorrow
Over the past two decades, 9/11 has taken on all kinds of different meanings for people, from the end of American dominance to the rise of a new kind of terrorism. But when I think of 9/11, the first thing I think of is Tracey Ullman.
I was born and raised in New York City, but I only happened to be there that day because it was New York fashion week, and the Guardian had sent me over from London to cover it for the first time. I was 23 years old. Look at me, Ma, a proper grownup now, getting sent overseas to write news stories! I was due to fly back the evening of 11 September 2001, and only had one show to cover that day, so I treated myself to room service (so grownup) while I watched one of those morning news shows that are really just celebrity interview shows, interspersed occasionally with the headlines. I was delighted when the guest that morning was Tracey Ullman, whom I’ve always liked. So there I was, eating my breakfast, listening to Ullman, feeling content with the world and totally in control of my life. Then the next interview started, with someone who had written a celebrity biography, and the presenter suddenly interrupted proceedings. A plane, he said, had flown into the north tower of the World Trade Center. Huh, that’s weird, I thought, not especially concerned, because despite feeling like an adult, I was still really a child.