Guest Author - Winsome Tapper
In many ways it was soap making that led me to my miracle of Sept 11. I was a fervent soap maker and had come to appreciate other people's junk in ways I would never have had I not started on my soap making passion. I like so many other New Yorkers lived on the out skirts of NYC in the outer lying boroughs and one of the many things that would unite us were those train trips into Manhattan which was literally the center and the heart of our world.
At home I would scour my Co-ops garbage room looking for odd shaped tins and nick nacks that could be converted into soap molds, gift boxes and all manner of wrapping things. On the weekend prior to 9/11 I went to the garbage room in my building and found a small paper bound novel. I cannot remember the title but do remember that it was tattered and so worn the pages were yellow and stained and it was tiny. I remember thinking that it must be a gem of a book to be this small, much like of mice and men. And the beginning of that weekend saw me settled in with some goodies to eat, in bed reading my book.
The plot of the book was astounding. The gist of the book was - a group of terrorist had blown up world trade center and there was mayhem and an Armageddon like cloud over the city the likes of which we had never seen before. I believe this was Friday or Saturday. I went to bed with the plot of this book in my consciousness and in my dreams. I dreamt that the sky was falling and watched as a frantic rush of people fled out of Manhattan. Amidst this were these pretty bits of papers flying around without a care amongst the grey clouds.
Usually if I am late with my mortgage I would take the E train to Manhattan and get off under the World Trade Center and have breakfast at one of the tiny eateries on the concourse level under World Trade Center. On Tuesday morning - Sept 11, 2001 I decided that I would wait to go World Trade Center (because - I thought) if terrorists were to blow up World Trade Center it would happen in the morning - like in the book. I washed my hair and took my time getting ready. I estimated that it should be safe to venture into Manhattan by noon. So I played around on my computer and delayed going to Manhattan. Sometime after 9am my sister called me from Florida to tell me that the first plane had flown into the world trade center.
I have since lost the book, cannot recall the title and wonder what alternate universe conjured up a tiny tattered book that saved me from making that trip to the World Trade Center.