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I Was 13 When My Father Was Killed On 9/11. It’s Taken Me 20 Years To Heal.

  • September 10, 2021

As a 10-year-old, I eagerly scanned the landscape for familiar landmarks. On the east side of the building, I spotted our apartment building on Grand Street, and to the north, ant-sized kids played in my elementary school’s yard. On a clear day, the impressive view rolled on for miles, stretching to the grey periphery framing the lush greenery of Central Park.

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