GEOFFREY SHYRHANE - My memories of the Twin Towers
Over the last week, I didn’t need reminding that it was 25 years since, on a blissfully sunny Saturday afternoon in New York, I bought a ticket and surveyed the view from the top of one of the Twin Towers.
It was truly memorable and it was in the cafe high in the sky that I met an American family and gave them a tin of Uncle Joe’s Mint Balls.
I’d previously been to the top of the Empire State Building, but my experience atop that Twin Tower (I never knew if it was No 1 or No 2) seemed altogether different, with acres of space and uncrowded viewing platforms. It was November, and with the American family I lingered as the sun began to slowly drip, creating an orange bloom over the Big Apple.
There was time to visit the gift shop and send a postcard home from what to me was the most dramatic skyscraper in the world.
If the lifts were fast going up, they seemed doubly so descending.
I was mesmerised seeing the two towers from ground level. They stood magnificently next to each other. One would not have been enough. Three too many.
And so the story moves from New York to Hindley. On 9/11 I’d been taking some photos of Walter Hurst’s club shop, which, sadly, was shutting its doors for the last time. Later, at home, Mrs S made a brew. The television was ignored as we talked of different types of clogs.
Then our attention was taken by news pictures in the TV. And the rest, as they say is history.