The New York I Knew

My family lived in Queens, New York, for three years. I was fortunate to be old enough to remember my time there: eating dim sum in Chinatown, seeing the Nutcracker at the Lincoln Center, visiting the beautiful, giant Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center, climbing to the top of the Statue of Liberty. I remember stepping on the cobblestones of South Street Seaport and feeling like this was “my town.” I loved New York; it was a city with a personality unlike any other.

This family photo (that’s me in the middle) was taken on Liberty Island either before or after we did the epic climb to Lady Liberty’s crown. I tried to count each and every one of the 354 steps, but lost track somewhere around 250. For me, it was just another summer outing with my family: making memories, searching for adventure, enjoying my time with my siblings.

But when I see this photo now, my happy memories turn to sadness. I think of how my children will never be able to visit the city of my youth. We will still be able to eat dim sum in Chinatown and climb through the head of the Statue of Liberty, but I will need to explain to my children why the two magnificent skyscrapers in the photo are no longer there. How could I have known that in my lifetime, a city could be so changed?

I think that, if I ever do have the opportunity to visit New York with my children, I would like to take them all to Liberty Island. We will stand in the exact same spot where I once stood with my family, and take a photo, to commemorate the New York I knew.