in july 1991, just over ten years ago now... i was working outside of philadephia at a summer camp for the mentally and physically challenged. i had just graduated from high school, and this was the first time i'd been on my own, away from home.
not surprisingly, i learned a lot that summer -- about myself, about the world... and i've taken a lot those experiences with me into my adult life. i was paid an insulting salary for the actual work i did that summer. and, it was by far, the most difficult job i've ever had... but the sum of those experiences, has been priceless.
it was during this summer that i slept very little, began smoking regularly, lost my virginity, smoked pot for the first time. i got so drunk, on more than one occasion, that i cannot remember what i did or where i was. and, my parents had no idea.
i had become interested in another counselor at the camp, and he in me. he was 26 years old, two years younger than i am now. he was african american, from newark, new jersey and a former cocaine (among other things) addict.
i had not really dated anyone in high school. and, i suspect that because he was everything that my parents would have vehemently disapproved of, only served to make him even more appealing to me, during this summer of growing up. to say the least, i wasn't just teetering on the cliff, i was running head-long to dive off of it, having no clue what i might land on at the bottom.
i had to leave the camp for a couple of days, to attend orientation at the university of maryland, with my family. and, when i returned, this man was gone. supposedly fired. supposedly he had hit a camper. i was told very little, and even now i'm unsure what might have actually transpired.
some of my other counselor friends had made a suggestion of going to visit him a week or two after his departure. as i mentioned, he lived in newark, and they were from the midwest and wanted a tour of new york city. this gave me an excuse, as well as transportation to see him. i jumped at the opportunity.
we stayed with him, in his mother's apartment, in the projects. in newark, new jersey. and, i lost my virginity to him, in the middle of the night, on his mother's plastic covered couch while listening to the new jack city soundtrack.
it was certainly not what i had ever imagined my first time would be...
the next day was spent with him, and my two friends from iowa and nebraska, wandering around new york city. my two girlfriends wanted to ride the ferry to the statue of liberty, and i didn't want to spend the money on it, as i had already paid to go up to the observation deck in the empire state building. instead he and i sat on a bench in battery park, talked a little, but mostly i was taking in the scenery. i'm still in love with new york, although i'm entirely sure it is a place i will never live.
when the girls returned, and we decided to head back to new jersey; we walked north, along greenwich street to the world trade center. i remember looking up at the huge buildings and then peering down along the escalator which descended from the street level into the basement below, where the train station was located. i remember all the flags which hung outside, and how many people were wandering about in the lower levels.
that was the first, and the last time i've been there.
and, even with all the images i've seen of the world trade center in the past few weeks, it's still difficult to wrap my mind around the idea that it just isn't there anymore.
and, i'm sorry that our world is so different because of it.