As the World Trade Center was on its way up in the 1970's a neighborhood plumber working the Sunday shift asked if wanted to accompany him to the top of the world. He knew I loved taking pictures. It was crisp that early morning and increasingly colder as we rode the construction elevator to the 98th floor. A harsh wind blew in from the west which made my footing unsteady. I was scared but the thrill overrode the fright. I was on top of the world. At that point in time, the Twin Towers had no skin; they were hardly twins yet. They were skeletons, a gigantic erector set. Multiple construction elevators throughout the structure as well as strapped to the exterior of the…