The Statue of Liberty was shrouded in scaffolding. The Towers were still there. One of us remembered the combination to the Crew team's Sherman Creek boathouse (actually an abandoned Con Edison power plant Fordham used temporarily after the fire). The coach's launch only needed a gas tank top up. The beers ran out on our southbound leg around Manhattan near Battery Park. We decided Staten Island was a reasonable distance for replenishments. The Harbor buoy beckoned.

A free, reckless moment frozen in time.

I'm alive! I'm alive!

And my future is unknown.