THE city had an unusual feel. It was difficult to describe the atmosphere of New York on the first anniversary of the attacks on the World Trade Centre, but there was an edge to the general hustle and bustle.

As one of the thousands – made up of the grieving, the respectful and the curious – I made my way towards ground zero for the ceremony to commemorate those who perished.

It was quiet for rush hour. The cars and taxis were still jostling for position on the gridlocked streets, yet the horns and sirens were strangely silent.

I was unable to make it through to the World Trade Centre site. About 10 blocks away an anxious and nervous young New York policewoman informed me that I needed a special pass as the area was reserved for the families, colleagues and friends of the dead.

I joined a large gathering outside the small fire station by the city watch house. On-duty firefighters, transit police, guards from the nearby court and dozens of others observed a moving service.

At 8.46am the group joined the entire city of New York in observing a sombre minute’s silence.

Just before 10.30am church bells began tolling – this was to commemorate the collapse of the second tower.

The wind was whipping down the avenues creating mini dust storms. I saw a number of a uniformed firefighters returning from the ground zero memorial covered in dust. It was a surreal and unnerving image.

My hotel was on 42nd Street, almost next door to the United Nations. The security around the UN building was extraordinary, with a police checkpoint on every corner.

That afternoon the Australian and New Zealand consulates held a memorial service at the Epiphany Church to remember the 10 Australians and two New Zealanders who were lost. The crowd of about 400 was made up of family and friends of the victims (35 family members travelled from Australia for the service), expatriates, New Yorkers and politicians.

The service was opened by Australian Consul General to New York Ken Allen, who read a message from the Prime Minister, which was followed by the national anthems of Australia, New Zealand and the United States.

Perhaps the most moving moment came when Cameron McCarthy performed the traditional Aboriginal song “Ginang”. One could almost smell the gum trees as the didgeridoo and the tapping sticks echoed through the enormous church. It was a little piece of Australia in the middle of New York.

The security when I arrived back at the hotel was tighter than ever.

A motorcade of 14 vehicles roared down 42nd Street. Six big black four-wheel-drives, NYPD cruisers and two limousines flew past. Secret Service agents were scanning the onlookers with M16 assault rifles at the ready. Even the local New Yorkers stopped and stared.

It was certainly a Big Apple moment that ended a moving and extraordinary day – 9/11 in New York.

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