story382.xml
Title
story382.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-04-11
911DA Story: Story
Tunnel Vision
The arrival of my Ez Pass statement is usually greeted with hardly a glance. But the October statement was different. I opened it up, scrolled down with my finger and found the date, 9/11. The statement read 8:58.16 as the time when I paid the toll to enter the Battery Tunnel. There would be no such record of when I received my car, but it was four in the afternoon when a Port Authority employee drove it back out and my day at the mouth of the tunnel was over. It would be months before I was in the tunnel again.
It was a sparkling September day and by 8:35am I was already giving my Bichon Frise, Olivia, her second walk of the day. I had stopped to chat with a neighbor and when I realized the time, I knew I had to hurry. I had a 9:30 appointment at the Tribeca office, commonly referred to by its address, "99 Hudson." I had the news on in the car. By the time I was a few blocks from the Prospect Expressway the reporter came on with a bulletin, "some explosion or plane crash" had occurred in one of the Twin towers. A "hole" in the upper part of the building was being reported. I didn?t give it much thought; accidents happen. What a mess it would be getting into the office. Approaching the BQE (Brooklyn Queens Expressway), the road becomes elevated to meet the approach to the tunnel. Traffic had slowed down and I was still at the bottom of the "hill" and all I could see was heavy smoke in the sky. When I came to the top of the hill the picture was clear. The top of one of the towers had a gaping hole the size of an opening to an old fashioned airplane hanger and a river size stream of smoke was spewing into the cloudless skyline of Manhattan. My thoughts were still foolishly on how I would navigate this traffic disaster. (I?ll take the FDR, come around the tip of Manhattan and approach the office from there; hopefully avoiding what I knew would be a rush of emergency vehicles.) Everyone around me still seemed to be intent on the same goal, getting into Manhattan. The information from the radio was fast paced even though traffic was barely moving. I was able to get into an EzPass lane and inch my way toward the tunnel.
At 8:58:16 I was through the tollbooth. The cars moved ever so slowly but we were proceeding. About halfway through the tunnel we came to a complete stop. The radio report kept repeating that a plane had crashed into "tower one". I felt annoyed, what is this crap about "tower" one. It was one of the towers that were hit, All right! I was distracted from my annoyance by people walking in the Tunnel towards Manhattan. My cell phone rang and I was greeted with a worried question from my wife. "Where are you?" I told her I was sitting in my car in the Battery tunnel waiting to exit at the Manhattan side. She said that one of the twin towers was ablaze and that they could see the smoke from their school located on the Kingsboro CC campus. I told her that my radio was working in the tunnel and was keeping me posted on the latest events. She pleadingly told me to get out of there. I said once I got on the Manhattan side I would turn around and go home. I told her I was fine and not to worry and I would call her as soon as I was out of the tunnel. Within minutes the radio announcer reported that a second plane had hit the other tower and all illusions of an accident disappeared.
I was a little bit hungry, so I started on the substantial slice of banana cake my wife had baked. I had also brought a good supply of homegrown figs to share with my colleagues. The fig count was dwindling. The guy in the van next to me opened his window and yelled over to me that the Pentagon had been bombed also. I acknowledged him and told him I also heard it on the radio. What the hell was going on? We would hear and see soon enough.
All of a sudden yelling noises could be heard, soon followed by a crowd of people running back toward the Brooklyn side. Some were screaming; "Get out of your car! Get out of your car." As the crowd got larger and larger so did the smoke that seemed to be attached to them. I closed my windows as the panic and smoke passed my car. I was determined to stay calm. As the tunnel became darker and darker I thought, don?t tell me I?m going to die in this f------ place. I got my briefcase, put my remaining figs into it and decided to leave the car. I placed my car keys in my coat pocket and began walking toward Brooklyn between abandoned cars. Within a minute of walking there were no more cars, just an empty tunnel, as people continued to run past me. I saw a man in a wheelchair and asked him if he needed assistance. He barely acknowledged me as he whizzed past me moving faster than I ever could have. People were climbing onto the path and pushing and shoving into the openings in the tunnel usually reserved for tunnel personnel. I continued on my own pace even though the smoke was getting heavier and heavier. A person marched past me and inquired if I was ok. I told him I was fine and he continued to walk with me. I said I was in no shape to run out of the tunnel and that he could proceed at his pace if he wished. He said he was glad to have the company. So we coughed and talked and walked and walked. We could see but it was very smoky; the Brooklyn side was nowhere in sight. We shared what we had heard and continued to walk and to our delight the tunnel seemed to becoming clearer. The sight of fireman jogging in our direction was even more reassuring, even with their oxygen gear on. We said we were ok and wished them luck as they headed further into the tunnel. As we came around one of the bends in the tunnel we could see the light of Brooklyn. We shook hands and said good luck to each other as we entered the tunnel plaza. It seemed like it was snowing out, but the sky was gray. The whole area was filled with people, ambulances, police and fire personnel asking if we needed oxygen or water. We were directed to see one of the police officers who were collecting car keys and information. Some of the people standing around were covered with a layer of dust reminiscent of someone undergoing a tribal ritual. As we got further into the plaza the "snow" was diminishing. I tried to phone my wife, but the phone was not operable. I stood around and watched a scene that looked like the movie set of a disaster area.
The arrival of my Ez Pass statement is usually greeted with hardly a glance. But the October statement was different. I opened it up, scrolled down with my finger and found the date, 9/11. The statement read 8:58.16 as the time when I paid the toll to enter the Battery Tunnel. There would be no such record of when I received my car, but it was four in the afternoon when a Port Authority employee drove it back out and my day at the mouth of the tunnel was over. It would be months before I was in the tunnel again.
It was a sparkling September day and by 8:35am I was already giving my Bichon Frise, Olivia, her second walk of the day. I had stopped to chat with a neighbor and when I realized the time, I knew I had to hurry. I had a 9:30 appointment at the Tribeca office, commonly referred to by its address, "99 Hudson." I had the news on in the car. By the time I was a few blocks from the Prospect Expressway the reporter came on with a bulletin, "some explosion or plane crash" had occurred in one of the Twin towers. A "hole" in the upper part of the building was being reported. I didn?t give it much thought; accidents happen. What a mess it would be getting into the office. Approaching the BQE (Brooklyn Queens Expressway), the road becomes elevated to meet the approach to the tunnel. Traffic had slowed down and I was still at the bottom of the "hill" and all I could see was heavy smoke in the sky. When I came to the top of the hill the picture was clear. The top of one of the towers had a gaping hole the size of an opening to an old fashioned airplane hanger and a river size stream of smoke was spewing into the cloudless skyline of Manhattan. My thoughts were still foolishly on how I would navigate this traffic disaster. (I?ll take the FDR, come around the tip of Manhattan and approach the office from there; hopefully avoiding what I knew would be a rush of emergency vehicles.) Everyone around me still seemed to be intent on the same goal, getting into Manhattan. The information from the radio was fast paced even though traffic was barely moving. I was able to get into an EzPass lane and inch my way toward the tunnel.
At 8:58:16 I was through the tollbooth. The cars moved ever so slowly but we were proceeding. About halfway through the tunnel we came to a complete stop. The radio report kept repeating that a plane had crashed into "tower one". I felt annoyed, what is this crap about "tower" one. It was one of the towers that were hit, All right! I was distracted from my annoyance by people walking in the Tunnel towards Manhattan. My cell phone rang and I was greeted with a worried question from my wife. "Where are you?" I told her I was sitting in my car in the Battery tunnel waiting to exit at the Manhattan side. She said that one of the twin towers was ablaze and that they could see the smoke from their school located on the Kingsboro CC campus. I told her that my radio was working in the tunnel and was keeping me posted on the latest events. She pleadingly told me to get out of there. I said once I got on the Manhattan side I would turn around and go home. I told her I was fine and not to worry and I would call her as soon as I was out of the tunnel. Within minutes the radio announcer reported that a second plane had hit the other tower and all illusions of an accident disappeared.
I was a little bit hungry, so I started on the substantial slice of banana cake my wife had baked. I had also brought a good supply of homegrown figs to share with my colleagues. The fig count was dwindling. The guy in the van next to me opened his window and yelled over to me that the Pentagon had been bombed also. I acknowledged him and told him I also heard it on the radio. What the hell was going on? We would hear and see soon enough.
All of a sudden yelling noises could be heard, soon followed by a crowd of people running back toward the Brooklyn side. Some were screaming; "Get out of your car! Get out of your car." As the crowd got larger and larger so did the smoke that seemed to be attached to them. I closed my windows as the panic and smoke passed my car. I was determined to stay calm. As the tunnel became darker and darker I thought, don?t tell me I?m going to die in this f------ place. I got my briefcase, put my remaining figs into it and decided to leave the car. I placed my car keys in my coat pocket and began walking toward Brooklyn between abandoned cars. Within a minute of walking there were no more cars, just an empty tunnel, as people continued to run past me. I saw a man in a wheelchair and asked him if he needed assistance. He barely acknowledged me as he whizzed past me moving faster than I ever could have. People were climbing onto the path and pushing and shoving into the openings in the tunnel usually reserved for tunnel personnel. I continued on my own pace even though the smoke was getting heavier and heavier. A person marched past me and inquired if I was ok. I told him I was fine and he continued to walk with me. I said I was in no shape to run out of the tunnel and that he could proceed at his pace if he wished. He said he was glad to have the company. So we coughed and talked and walked and walked. We could see but it was very smoky; the Brooklyn side was nowhere in sight. We shared what we had heard and continued to walk and to our delight the tunnel seemed to becoming clearer. The sight of fireman jogging in our direction was even more reassuring, even with their oxygen gear on. We said we were ok and wished them luck as they headed further into the tunnel. As we came around one of the bends in the tunnel we could see the light of Brooklyn. We shook hands and said good luck to each other as we entered the tunnel plaza. It seemed like it was snowing out, but the sky was gray. The whole area was filled with people, ambulances, police and fire personnel asking if we needed oxygen or water. We were directed to see one of the police officers who were collecting car keys and information. Some of the people standing around were covered with a layer of dust reminiscent of someone undergoing a tribal ritual. As we got further into the plaza the "snow" was diminishing. I tried to phone my wife, but the phone was not operable. I stood around and watched a scene that looked like the movie set of a disaster area.
Collection
Citation
“story382.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed December 15, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/12750.