story8579.xml

story8579.xml

born-digital

story

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2002-10-26

I did not save any lives on September 11th, nor did I do anything heroic. This is my account, a college junior's account, of that tragic day's events, my experiences and the emotions I encountered in Manhattan that day. Tuesday, September 11, 2001 started off as any other day. The weather was clear, the sky blue and it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. I got on a the A train at 34th Street around 7:45. My first class on Tuesday mornings started at 08:30. I arrived at John Jay College just after 8:00 and headed to the cafeteria for breakfast, and then I went to class. When the first plane struck the World Trade Center, I was solving quadratic equations and unaware of the cowardly act that just took thousands of American lives. The class ended at 9:30 and I headed to my next class, Russian 101. My professor entered the classroom and stated that an airplane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Most of us assumed that it was a small aircraft such as a Cessna, for we had no idea of the events that had transpired. About halfway through the class, all classes were cancelled due to the morning's events. I was still not fully aware of what happened, but as I entered the cafeteria, all eyes were on the projection T.V. that showed both towers burning. I was at a loss of words, as I watched the replay of the impacts, still unaware that the towers no longer existed. As I uttered "My God", a fellow student turned to me and said, "They're gone, the towers collapsed." I felt a mix of emotions: sick, betrayed, angry, hatred and violated all at once. This was not supposed to happen in New York, not in America and not to us. I left North Hall of John Jay College and wnet to the college's "T" building (on 10th Ave). Crossing 10th Ave, I could see a huge, dark column of smoke rising from downtown where the Towers once stood. I tried to call my girlfriend, but "all circuits were busy" on the pay phones and I didn't have my cell phone with me. Students were urged to leave and go home if they lived in the area, but subway access was limited. On hearing this I decided to stay at school. The streets were cleared and blocked off with large trucks. Ambulances were pulling in and out of St. Lukes Roosevelt Hospital, which is directly across the street from John Jay. I never saw Manhattan go from "the city that never sleeps", to a ghost town. Yet in this process, when I was on the street, I saw the bond between New Yorkers, grow into an unbreakable force of solidarity, and I knew then that these cowardly pieces of sh*t that partook in the day's destruction had lost. They had not succeeded in breaking our spirit. The streets around John Jay were deserted, and anyone venturing outside was ordered to get off the street. Rumors were circulating that cars bombs were exploding throughout Manhattan. I spent the rest of the day in a student lounge, watching ABC's coverage of the collapse. Around 4:30 p.m. the President of John Jay made an announcement that some of the subway service had been restored and urged students to attempt to get home. I left school, walked to Columbus Circle and took the A train to 34th Street/Penn Station. All train service out of Manhattan was suspended and I was there about an hour waiting for a train. When a departure was finally announced, it seemed as if everyone left in Manhattan was attemtping to board it. The train was packed like a sardine can. Just after the train departed, I wondered if I should have waited for a later train. This was the first one out and I feared it could be a target for another attack. I was not weary of the train itself but of the tunnel it traveled through to pass under the Hudson River. I was in the last car of the train, and as it was exiting the tunnel, we heard a lound bang and the car swayed. It scared the hell out out of me as well as the others standing around me. It appeared that the car was overloaded and a part of the train stuck the side of the tunnel (it is a tight fit anyway) upon exiting. This was quickly forgoten, for a few minutes later, Ground Zero came into view, and for the first time I saw a "live" view of the day's tragic events. The train was delayed in Newark Penn Station while train officials inspected the exterior of the car before proceeding on. I arrived home around 7:00 that night. More than a year has passed, and this is my final semester. I still have not gotten accustomed to the skyline; I can still picture the towers rising toward the heavens. However, now is the time to move on, the city is rebuilding itself and time heals all wounds. Yet those lost that day will never be forgoten for it is a day that I and those who lived through it, cannot and will never forget.