Falling towers, crumbling levees, and viral mutations

Each time I view the Manhattan skyline, part of me is convinced that the World Trade Center towers are still there, and that they are just hidden by the particular vista for the day and for some reason cannot be seen. This statement does not reflect some cheap literary permissiveness afforded to me as a result of my current generous editorial perk or the musings of a zealous yet deluded optimist in a profound and advanced state of pathologic denial. Rather, it truly represents a thought that materializes whenever I drive into New York from my home. Think about it, the towers were so ubiquitous and just dominated one's Manhattan consciousness. How, then, could such magnificent structures just disappear? How could anyone develop and culture such a vengeful hatred and channel it into such a destructive and murderous force? How could so many wives and husbands be widowed and so many children made fatherless? What providence, luck, or even quirky circumstance allowed me to witness this horror from an outlying borough yet allow me the chance to go home that night to my small child to softly cry on his shoulder, shaken from the events of the day yet relieved that I still could experience the continued joy of watching him fall off to sleep for the night, and seemingly each night thereafter.These illogical thoughts (or silly wishes) that the towers still dominate the New York City landscape and vista do not remain for long. This is because I clearly saw and smelled the fire and smoke from the carnage, I still remember the sight and the acrid smell that lingered in the region for days afterward, and I still cannot – nor will I ever be able to – shake the image and the sound of the second plane crashing into the second tower and the ghastly fireball that erupted. At several points over the years since 9/11, I recall wondering how the events of the day will ultimately fall into my synaptic place and how they will eventually influence and shape both my personal and professional