Looking back at more innocent times before 9/11

I grew up in the '60s and '70s, 25 miles west of Manhattan, with the New York skyline etched in my brain. The lights never went out, and when you came to a certain point on Route 3 East from New Jersey, no matter how many times you had made the trip before, you felt a certain rush as it appeared, first as a hazy outline and gradually brighter and more spectacular, glistening against the sky.

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