September 11, 2001 meant many things to many people. When it occurred to me that I wanted to write something about that day, I had a hard time coming up with a subject that I felt I could confidently tackle within the confines of this space. Should I address the war on “tear“, as Bush pronounces the word? The discrimination imposed on Muslims? How we started a war against a country that had nothing to do with the attacks based on faulty intelligence?
I had second thoughts on even writing about this subject at all. Between the news this past Friday being all 9/11, all the time, and the round-the-clock Very Special Episodes of coverage on practically every channel, those doubts persisted. The supposed “credible threat” about an attack on NY and DC on the tenth anniversary did nothing to ease the media frenzy. I ultimately decided to just share what the day was like for me.
Here is what I remember:
- the perfectly gorgeous weather that morning. It was primary day in New York and, instead of going across the street to vote, I figured I’d get around to it when I returned home from work;
- the looks on the faces of my colleagues when I arrived at work that immediately told me something was horribly wrong;
- the phone calls from my family asking if I was ok, which I was, since my office was in midtown and not in lower Manhattan;
- trying to call a cousin whose office was a few blocks away from the World Trade Center (she was out of the office that morning);
- the persistent sound of sirens from emergency vehicles headed downtown;
- seeing the first building collapse on tv, at which point my boss closed the office;
- setting out on foot back to Brooklyn, as the city shut down all subways and buses;
- the inability to contact anyone by phone because most cell phones were not working;
- people with cell phone service allowing strangers to borrow their phones;
- people crowding around car radios on the street to hear the latest tidbits of information;
- the long lines at pay phones;
- everyone looking up at the sky in alarm upon hearing planes overhead and asking one another, ‘why are those planes in the sky?’ Breathing a collective sigh of relief when we realized the planes were F-15’s;
- reaching the intersection of 34th Street, Broadway and 6th Avenues, looking south, and seeing and smelling the smoke from the buildings for the first time;
- encountering police barricades at Canal Street while trying to continue south, along with tons of other folks (my destination was the Brooklyn Bridge). The police would not allow anyone not already below Canal Street to proceed beyond the barricades, and directed people to the Manhattan Bridge;
- looking at the smoke from the bridge and wondering why I couldn’t see the other tower. I figured the smoke must have been obscuring it, as the second building was still standing when I left work;
- people on the bridge continuing to share their cell phones with strangers;
- reaching the Brooklyn side and finally being able to make a call on my cell. My sister informed me that the reason I couldn’t see the other tower is because it wasn’t there anymore;
- the smell of smoke reaching into my neighborhood and the traces of ash on the cars;
- seeing the smoke from the collapse of 7 WTC from home;
- more emergency vehicle sirens, and
- my splitting headache that afternoon.
Image via flickr.com
