story1966.xml
Title
story1966.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-09-09
911DA Story: Story
September 11th: Looking Back & Moving Forward
September 11th ? The Day My World Changed.
At 8:48 am, I was on a Manhattan-bound N-train as it made the turn towards Queensborough Bridge. As the train turns to the west, the downtown skyline comes into view, The World Trade Center its center point. On this day as we made the turn One World Trade Center burst into flames.
There was a general panic as passengers rushed to the get a glimpse while grabbing for radios and cell phones to find out what was happening. Within three minutes, we were underground crossing the East River knowing only that a plane had crashed into the top floors of Tower One and that it was still inside the building. Fixable.
By the time I walked onto 42nd Street outside Grand Central Station, the second tower was hit. I was oblivious.
I didn?t know that anything more had happened till I reached my Madison Avenue office, where the feelings of distress were thick enough to touch. My voicemail was teeming with grief-stricken messages: ?Mina, Where are you?! Are you ok? Call me as soon as you get this!? The entire staff dialed relentlessly ? trying to get phone lines to find friends and family. I had constant contact with my husband from his office in New Jersey, my parents, grandparents and bothers in Missouri, my in-laws and aunts in Greece. They were all very fearful for me. ?Alone? in Midtown Manhattan ? strategically located between Grand Central Station and Times Square.
We sat with radios and televisions blaring as we watched over downtown Manhattan in horror. We listened quietly as the Pentagon was attacked and as Flight 93 crashed in Pennsylvania. We watched and were devastated as Tower Two crumbled to the ground. Words cannot express?
My thoughts were of Windows on the World on the 107th floor of One World Trade Center. It was, hands down, my all-time favorite view. My husband and I had spent our first anniversary there. It was always one of my first stops when entertaining visitors. It was the place where my dad and I swing-danced on my little brother?s birthday. Where parents and in-laws shared a meal the first time we had them all in the same place. The Twin Towers symbolized New York City in an amazing way. A city in itself, the World Trade Center always drew me. Any excuse to roam the mall ? or Century 21 across the street, to trip though the book store that took a corner of the first 3 floors, to do happy hour at Windows. Those ?rocket-powered? elevators that went from 1 to 100 in 15 seconds or less! I couldn?t believe that this was happening.
While these thoughts went through my head. I listened with the heaviest heart as Tower One fell to the ground taking with it so many lives, and a legacy. I couldn?t ? and can?t believe that the Twin Towers are no longer. I truly believed that nothing could bring them down.
We watched from our windows as masses of people streamed quickly, steadily uptown on streets that are normally packed with bumper-to-bumper traffic. Today, these avenues served strictly as pedestrian throughways. The sight was surreal.
I questioned whether or not I would make it home ? ever ? and for the first time in my life, I did not know the answer. It was that traumatic.
I did not leave the office that day until I knew that everyone had a safe place to go. I was the last to leave. At 5:00 PM I walked out onto Madison Avenue and looked downtown at the cloud of smoke that hovered in the place where the World Trade Center once stood. I turned my back and walked 23 blocks up Fifth Avenue to find a friend to hike across the Queensborough Bridge with. The streets were empty of cars, of people. All of the posh Fifth Avenue boutiques were closed with signs reading ?God Bless America? and flags in the windows. The city was abandoned.
One outgoing lane opened on most major bridges after 5:30, but no inbounds were open. My husband could not come home.
I went to an outdoor caf? where many sat dazed, confused as military helicopters flew above. It was as if we were in a war zone ? the ones you see on CNN or in Time. This was New York City.
September 12th ? The Realization
Waking up, the day seemed normal enough.
The office was closed. I watched CNN, BBC, MSNBC all day. I could not divert my attention. I watched over and over as the planes crashed into the towers, as the towers crumbled. I relived the horror, frustration and fear. I cried all day.
My husband still hadn?t come home.
September 13th ? Trying to Get Back to Life
Unwilling, unable to deal with another day at home alone, I headed to work in hopes that I wouldn?t be the only one there. I didn?t take the subway, afraid of being underground. I walked.
There were crowds forming on Park Avenue, lines of people that extend for blocks. They were waiting to pass through Police and National Guard checkpoints prior to entering their places of business. There were no cars on the streets, only people. I didn?t take the shortcut through Grand Central.
This was not a working day. More like a morale day. My department started a fund to collect money and supplies for the rescue workers. Within twenty-minutes we had more than $700 in cash in addition to boxes full of t-shirts, socks, saline solution, flashlights, and anything else you can imagine.
Grand Central Station was evacuated after a bomb threat. Crowds of people were speed-walking by below our windows. Our building was evacuated and later reopened ? it would be closed the following day.
At the end of the day, we grabbed as many bags as we could carry and hiked over to the Javits Center where donations were being accepted. There were thousands of people spilling onto the West Side Highway, donating supplies, food, blood, money, time and moral support. Off-duty rescue workers were lying on the sidewalks, resting in full gear under a burning sun. The National Guard was everywhere ? military garb, military vehicles. A sight so foreign, so thought provoking, yet strangely empowering.
September 14th ? The Thunder
My husband made it home late last night. I was so relieved and happy. It felt as though months had passed since I saw him last. Rain was in the forecast but the storm that followed was frightening. The thunder was so loud and unlike any thunder you?ve ever heard. I woke up terrified, believing that buildings were crumbling around me.
It rained all day. I can?t remember the weekend.
September 17th ? The Week After
I was determined to make this week as normal as possible. I found the first ?Wall of Tears? ? with photos of lost loved-ones, messages to victims, burning candles, flowers ? just blocks from home. They are everywhere. On every other street corner I come face to face with the smiling faces of victims of the disaster, ?Missing?. It breaks my heart. Crowds gather to mourn, study photos, read messages, leave flowers, pray. I am one of the lucky ones ? all of my lost were found safe. The smiling faces stay with me.
I am amazed by the changes I have seen in New York, in New Yorkers. The city has become much more civil. At the onset of last week even eye contact was semi off-limits. Now strangers stop to ask if you are ok. They touch and hug you. Everyone is sharing his or her story. It helps.
I am living in a daze. I still can?t believe that the towers are gone, that so many lives have been lost. Even when I see the site where The World Trade Center once stood.
September 21st ? The Love
This was truly the most hopeful day I had since the September 11th attacks. I spent the morning answering calls to the Crisis Line set up by The New York Convention and Visitors Bureau. Four of every five calls were from people wanting to reach out. Many were doing so by flying to New York City (from Texas, Tennessee, Alaska, Oregon, New Mexico ? you name it) to stay for just one night to put money into the city?s economy, take gifts to local fire-fighters, volunteer? anything to help. Many called to voice their concern and support ? just because they had no one in the area to voice it to. There was so much love.
Mayor Rudy Gulianni opened SNL with two-dozen police, fire and rescue personnel. The City is back in business.
Today ? Moving Forward
Today I am packing, tomorrow I am moving to Upper Montclair in New Jersey ? a move that was planned before the attacks. It is so ironic. Using old newspapers as packing material, I continuously come across images of the attacks ? images that are permanently embedded in my mind. They bring tears to my eyes.
After the move, I will continue to work (and play) in Manhattan ? only my residence will be elsewhere. But, with this new environment will come new outlooks, new sentiments, new thoughts and new routines. I am moving on.
September 11th ? The Day My World Changed.
At 8:48 am, I was on a Manhattan-bound N-train as it made the turn towards Queensborough Bridge. As the train turns to the west, the downtown skyline comes into view, The World Trade Center its center point. On this day as we made the turn One World Trade Center burst into flames.
There was a general panic as passengers rushed to the get a glimpse while grabbing for radios and cell phones to find out what was happening. Within three minutes, we were underground crossing the East River knowing only that a plane had crashed into the top floors of Tower One and that it was still inside the building. Fixable.
By the time I walked onto 42nd Street outside Grand Central Station, the second tower was hit. I was oblivious.
I didn?t know that anything more had happened till I reached my Madison Avenue office, where the feelings of distress were thick enough to touch. My voicemail was teeming with grief-stricken messages: ?Mina, Where are you?! Are you ok? Call me as soon as you get this!? The entire staff dialed relentlessly ? trying to get phone lines to find friends and family. I had constant contact with my husband from his office in New Jersey, my parents, grandparents and bothers in Missouri, my in-laws and aunts in Greece. They were all very fearful for me. ?Alone? in Midtown Manhattan ? strategically located between Grand Central Station and Times Square.
We sat with radios and televisions blaring as we watched over downtown Manhattan in horror. We listened quietly as the Pentagon was attacked and as Flight 93 crashed in Pennsylvania. We watched and were devastated as Tower Two crumbled to the ground. Words cannot express?
My thoughts were of Windows on the World on the 107th floor of One World Trade Center. It was, hands down, my all-time favorite view. My husband and I had spent our first anniversary there. It was always one of my first stops when entertaining visitors. It was the place where my dad and I swing-danced on my little brother?s birthday. Where parents and in-laws shared a meal the first time we had them all in the same place. The Twin Towers symbolized New York City in an amazing way. A city in itself, the World Trade Center always drew me. Any excuse to roam the mall ? or Century 21 across the street, to trip though the book store that took a corner of the first 3 floors, to do happy hour at Windows. Those ?rocket-powered? elevators that went from 1 to 100 in 15 seconds or less! I couldn?t believe that this was happening.
While these thoughts went through my head. I listened with the heaviest heart as Tower One fell to the ground taking with it so many lives, and a legacy. I couldn?t ? and can?t believe that the Twin Towers are no longer. I truly believed that nothing could bring them down.
We watched from our windows as masses of people streamed quickly, steadily uptown on streets that are normally packed with bumper-to-bumper traffic. Today, these avenues served strictly as pedestrian throughways. The sight was surreal.
I questioned whether or not I would make it home ? ever ? and for the first time in my life, I did not know the answer. It was that traumatic.
I did not leave the office that day until I knew that everyone had a safe place to go. I was the last to leave. At 5:00 PM I walked out onto Madison Avenue and looked downtown at the cloud of smoke that hovered in the place where the World Trade Center once stood. I turned my back and walked 23 blocks up Fifth Avenue to find a friend to hike across the Queensborough Bridge with. The streets were empty of cars, of people. All of the posh Fifth Avenue boutiques were closed with signs reading ?God Bless America? and flags in the windows. The city was abandoned.
One outgoing lane opened on most major bridges after 5:30, but no inbounds were open. My husband could not come home.
I went to an outdoor caf? where many sat dazed, confused as military helicopters flew above. It was as if we were in a war zone ? the ones you see on CNN or in Time. This was New York City.
September 12th ? The Realization
Waking up, the day seemed normal enough.
The office was closed. I watched CNN, BBC, MSNBC all day. I could not divert my attention. I watched over and over as the planes crashed into the towers, as the towers crumbled. I relived the horror, frustration and fear. I cried all day.
My husband still hadn?t come home.
September 13th ? Trying to Get Back to Life
Unwilling, unable to deal with another day at home alone, I headed to work in hopes that I wouldn?t be the only one there. I didn?t take the subway, afraid of being underground. I walked.
There were crowds forming on Park Avenue, lines of people that extend for blocks. They were waiting to pass through Police and National Guard checkpoints prior to entering their places of business. There were no cars on the streets, only people. I didn?t take the shortcut through Grand Central.
This was not a working day. More like a morale day. My department started a fund to collect money and supplies for the rescue workers. Within twenty-minutes we had more than $700 in cash in addition to boxes full of t-shirts, socks, saline solution, flashlights, and anything else you can imagine.
Grand Central Station was evacuated after a bomb threat. Crowds of people were speed-walking by below our windows. Our building was evacuated and later reopened ? it would be closed the following day.
At the end of the day, we grabbed as many bags as we could carry and hiked over to the Javits Center where donations were being accepted. There were thousands of people spilling onto the West Side Highway, donating supplies, food, blood, money, time and moral support. Off-duty rescue workers were lying on the sidewalks, resting in full gear under a burning sun. The National Guard was everywhere ? military garb, military vehicles. A sight so foreign, so thought provoking, yet strangely empowering.
September 14th ? The Thunder
My husband made it home late last night. I was so relieved and happy. It felt as though months had passed since I saw him last. Rain was in the forecast but the storm that followed was frightening. The thunder was so loud and unlike any thunder you?ve ever heard. I woke up terrified, believing that buildings were crumbling around me.
It rained all day. I can?t remember the weekend.
September 17th ? The Week After
I was determined to make this week as normal as possible. I found the first ?Wall of Tears? ? with photos of lost loved-ones, messages to victims, burning candles, flowers ? just blocks from home. They are everywhere. On every other street corner I come face to face with the smiling faces of victims of the disaster, ?Missing?. It breaks my heart. Crowds gather to mourn, study photos, read messages, leave flowers, pray. I am one of the lucky ones ? all of my lost were found safe. The smiling faces stay with me.
I am amazed by the changes I have seen in New York, in New Yorkers. The city has become much more civil. At the onset of last week even eye contact was semi off-limits. Now strangers stop to ask if you are ok. They touch and hug you. Everyone is sharing his or her story. It helps.
I am living in a daze. I still can?t believe that the towers are gone, that so many lives have been lost. Even when I see the site where The World Trade Center once stood.
September 21st ? The Love
This was truly the most hopeful day I had since the September 11th attacks. I spent the morning answering calls to the Crisis Line set up by The New York Convention and Visitors Bureau. Four of every five calls were from people wanting to reach out. Many were doing so by flying to New York City (from Texas, Tennessee, Alaska, Oregon, New Mexico ? you name it) to stay for just one night to put money into the city?s economy, take gifts to local fire-fighters, volunteer? anything to help. Many called to voice their concern and support ? just because they had no one in the area to voice it to. There was so much love.
Mayor Rudy Gulianni opened SNL with two-dozen police, fire and rescue personnel. The City is back in business.
Today ? Moving Forward
Today I am packing, tomorrow I am moving to Upper Montclair in New Jersey ? a move that was planned before the attacks. It is so ironic. Using old newspapers as packing material, I continuously come across images of the attacks ? images that are permanently embedded in my mind. They bring tears to my eyes.
After the move, I will continue to work (and play) in Manhattan ? only my residence will be elsewhere. But, with this new environment will come new outlooks, new sentiments, new thoughts and new routines. I am moving on.
Collection
Citation
“story1966.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed January 10, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/11509.