He Who Hesitates Is Lost

Ever since the World Trade Center PATH station reopened, I've been wanting to turn to the passenger sitting next to me and ask, "Hey, what have they done with the buildings?" Never had the nerve to do it, though. Now, as "September 11" slowly recedes, the idea has less and less appeal; in today's climate, it would probably not shock my audience, merely annoy them.

Well, I should have struck when I had the chance. This morning, somebody stole my thunder. The train emerged from the North River tunnel into the open air of Ground Zero, as usual. It wound slowly around Osama Crater, the devastation clearly visible on all sides. It came to a stop at the starkly gray al fresco platform. We all got up to disembark. And one passenger--a latter-day Geoffrey Holder with a charming English accent--looked up and asked the fellow across from him, "Excuse me. Is this the World Trade Center stop?" "Yes," the other replied; and no one in the car batted an eye. Me, I almost plotzed.