story312.xml
Title
story312.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-03-25
911DA Story: Story
I was born in Brooklyn and lived in NYC as a child. My parents live in Manhattan now. I have lived in Oxford for the last four years and I've been working on my PhD, which is about 20th Century British writing on New York City. I woke up on Tuesday, 11 September, went into town, bought a much-needed extra bookshelf and was assembling it when the phone rang. It was a friend who calmly told me to turn on my t.v. because he didn't have one and had heard on the radio that a plane had crashed into downtown Manhattan.
I turned on the set in time to see the second plane crash into the second tower. I refused to believe that it was anything but an accident because the suggestion that anyone would plan such an attack seemed too clever even in its simplicity and barbarism. I managed to phone my father at his office and all he could say was that he didn't understand why this was happening and if this was it.
I think the feeling that the attacks might continue, first on Washington, then throughout the country and possibly the world was the chilling feeling that stayed with my housemates and I throughout the semester and the war in Afghanistan. We grasped onto the political arguments and theoretical discussions because it was too gruesome to think of what had actually happened to all those people on the planes, on the ground, and especially in the buildings.
For me, writing about New York because a very different activity after September 11. I still struggle with the idea that my work is flippant in light of what I could be doing to help in the aftermath, even months later. Somehow I hope I am contributing to an understanding of the place and the idea of the place.
I was lucky and feel somewhat guilty -- my family and friends managed to escape and avoid the direct physical impact of the attack. One thing that they have told me is that they are helped rather than haunted by the continued discussion and sharing of impressions. I think I too am helped by hearing their stories, and the stories from this archive, which will (uneasily but necessarily) be woven into my collection of foreign impressions of our city.
I turned on the set in time to see the second plane crash into the second tower. I refused to believe that it was anything but an accident because the suggestion that anyone would plan such an attack seemed too clever even in its simplicity and barbarism. I managed to phone my father at his office and all he could say was that he didn't understand why this was happening and if this was it.
I think the feeling that the attacks might continue, first on Washington, then throughout the country and possibly the world was the chilling feeling that stayed with my housemates and I throughout the semester and the war in Afghanistan. We grasped onto the political arguments and theoretical discussions because it was too gruesome to think of what had actually happened to all those people on the planes, on the ground, and especially in the buildings.
For me, writing about New York because a very different activity after September 11. I still struggle with the idea that my work is flippant in light of what I could be doing to help in the aftermath, even months later. Somehow I hope I am contributing to an understanding of the place and the idea of the place.
I was lucky and feel somewhat guilty -- my family and friends managed to escape and avoid the direct physical impact of the attack. One thing that they have told me is that they are helped rather than haunted by the continued discussion and sharing of impressions. I think I too am helped by hearing their stories, and the stories from this archive, which will (uneasily but necessarily) be woven into my collection of foreign impressions of our city.
Collection
Citation
“story312.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed December 18, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/10904.