story8113.xml
Title
story8113.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-09-24
911DA Story: Story
September 25, 2001
Eulogy for My Beloved ?Trade Center?
by
Thomas Wm. O?Connell, Jr.
The World Trade Center belonged to everyone and yet She belong to me alone. In my world
I never referred to Her as the ?Twin Towers? or ?WTC? just ?Trade Center.?
I?ve watched her grow over the years. Always changing while she was growing.
She was always was dressed up for every occasion. Always bright and cheerful no matter
what the weather was. And, oh, at night She would shine so brightly that She took away your breath!
I always took pride in being so close to her. She probably never noticed me watching her grow over time in radiant splendor.
She was as alive and vibrant as any entity that ever existed. She was part human too! Her cellular make up was that of all the human beings that moved within Her day after day.
I thought I would never in my lifetime see Her come to an end and die. I was there that terrible day when She stood mortally wounded. Her wounds bled Her human cells of which I witnessed five of them perish -- four men and a woman. I knew that after she sustained her second wound this was no accident and someone was trying to kill Her!
I stood looking out the window nineteen floors up right across from my Beloved at 140 West Street. I stared in awe at the gaping, jagged wound in the first tower. There were great red flames and heavy black curling smoke pouring out. (I did not fear Her coming death because it was said somewhere that She could sustain a direct hit from a 747 airliner and still stand). Then as I watched I became filled with grief for the families and friends left behind those who had perished from the impact of the plane that crashed into the tower.
When I saw the first man fall from the opened wound and perish right before my eyes, I was stunned into disbelief at what had happened and that what I was seeing was not happening. As I saw the second man fall, I knew this was real and was happening and unfolding right there in front of me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Then as the third man was falling and before he perished, I quickly blessed myself making the sign of the ?Cross? and prayed for his soul. I did the same for the fourth man and the same for the fifth person, a woman.
I reached up as high as I could and placed my hand upon the pane, as if I could stop the others from the same fate, and called to those that I could not see to stay back from the edge and they (fire/police) will come and rescue them. At this moment I became very angry because I was absolutely powerless to stop this and raise my eyes that I could see over the tower and into the blue sky and yelled out loud to God, ?SEE! THIS HAS TO STOP AND IT HAS TO STOP NOW!?
I had to leave my building. We were told to evacuate. When I got to the street, I looked up to the tower again and just stared.
I was around the area of the Brooklyn Bridge when I heard another loud noise and turned to see the Second tower fall first. The tower made a sound as if a death rattle, leaned forward, toppled while letting out its last breath and crashed to the pavement below.
In watching the second tower fall, I knew the prayers that I had issued for the ones remaining that they would be rescued were not answered. Also my prayers for the people who I saw fall at the time did not seem to matter. Rescuing them had become academic. I felt that eight thousand lives died that day and part of my life too. The grief that I felt became unbearable. It wasn?t for those who just died or for myself. It was the grief, and the loss I felt for all the loved ones left behind. I believed then and there that no one had survived. I prayed for all those souls in one single prayer. The ?Act of Contrition.? I prayed that prayer for all who just died , that God would take them straight to heaven. While I silently said this prayer, it seemed that thousands of their voices joined mine at that moment and were gone with the last ?Amen.?
I must let it be known that not even once did I want revenge on the ones who did this terrible deed. I knew in my heart that revenge was not going to bring back all those who had just perished or bring back my ?Trade Center.? I could only hope and pray that we would not do the same and attack blindly and kill the innocent with the guilty ones. If we did, we would be no better than the ones who just killed innocent people in those towers.
It has now the third week and still I am grieving. Still weeping. But today when I had decided to write this I stopped and listen to my heart and realized that even though I had stopped crying on the outside my heart has never stopped weeping. I had wept outwardly for those that had perished and for their love ones, but I did not realize that my heart was mourning and weeping for my ?Beloved Trade Center.?
Yes, I would want to have the building rebuilt. More out of spite than anything else, just to be able to go to the top of the new buildings and thumb my nose at the killers of my world and be the first to dare them to try it again!
But, as in life when your beloved is taken from you, it can never be replaced. No matter how magnificent a new comer is. I pray for a new center and that it will be protected from all harm, but She will never take the place of my beloved ?Trade Center? of my world. I will call her by a new name in my new world as the ?Trade Winds? of the World.
Eulogy for My Beloved ?Trade Center?
by
Thomas Wm. O?Connell, Jr.
The World Trade Center belonged to everyone and yet She belong to me alone. In my world
I never referred to Her as the ?Twin Towers? or ?WTC? just ?Trade Center.?
I?ve watched her grow over the years. Always changing while she was growing.
She was always was dressed up for every occasion. Always bright and cheerful no matter
what the weather was. And, oh, at night She would shine so brightly that She took away your breath!
I always took pride in being so close to her. She probably never noticed me watching her grow over time in radiant splendor.
She was as alive and vibrant as any entity that ever existed. She was part human too! Her cellular make up was that of all the human beings that moved within Her day after day.
I thought I would never in my lifetime see Her come to an end and die. I was there that terrible day when She stood mortally wounded. Her wounds bled Her human cells of which I witnessed five of them perish -- four men and a woman. I knew that after she sustained her second wound this was no accident and someone was trying to kill Her!
I stood looking out the window nineteen floors up right across from my Beloved at 140 West Street. I stared in awe at the gaping, jagged wound in the first tower. There were great red flames and heavy black curling smoke pouring out. (I did not fear Her coming death because it was said somewhere that She could sustain a direct hit from a 747 airliner and still stand). Then as I watched I became filled with grief for the families and friends left behind those who had perished from the impact of the plane that crashed into the tower.
When I saw the first man fall from the opened wound and perish right before my eyes, I was stunned into disbelief at what had happened and that what I was seeing was not happening. As I saw the second man fall, I knew this was real and was happening and unfolding right there in front of me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. Then as the third man was falling and before he perished, I quickly blessed myself making the sign of the ?Cross? and prayed for his soul. I did the same for the fourth man and the same for the fifth person, a woman.
I reached up as high as I could and placed my hand upon the pane, as if I could stop the others from the same fate, and called to those that I could not see to stay back from the edge and they (fire/police) will come and rescue them. At this moment I became very angry because I was absolutely powerless to stop this and raise my eyes that I could see over the tower and into the blue sky and yelled out loud to God, ?SEE! THIS HAS TO STOP AND IT HAS TO STOP NOW!?
I had to leave my building. We were told to evacuate. When I got to the street, I looked up to the tower again and just stared.
I was around the area of the Brooklyn Bridge when I heard another loud noise and turned to see the Second tower fall first. The tower made a sound as if a death rattle, leaned forward, toppled while letting out its last breath and crashed to the pavement below.
In watching the second tower fall, I knew the prayers that I had issued for the ones remaining that they would be rescued were not answered. Also my prayers for the people who I saw fall at the time did not seem to matter. Rescuing them had become academic. I felt that eight thousand lives died that day and part of my life too. The grief that I felt became unbearable. It wasn?t for those who just died or for myself. It was the grief, and the loss I felt for all the loved ones left behind. I believed then and there that no one had survived. I prayed for all those souls in one single prayer. The ?Act of Contrition.? I prayed that prayer for all who just died , that God would take them straight to heaven. While I silently said this prayer, it seemed that thousands of their voices joined mine at that moment and were gone with the last ?Amen.?
I must let it be known that not even once did I want revenge on the ones who did this terrible deed. I knew in my heart that revenge was not going to bring back all those who had just perished or bring back my ?Trade Center.? I could only hope and pray that we would not do the same and attack blindly and kill the innocent with the guilty ones. If we did, we would be no better than the ones who just killed innocent people in those towers.
It has now the third week and still I am grieving. Still weeping. But today when I had decided to write this I stopped and listen to my heart and realized that even though I had stopped crying on the outside my heart has never stopped weeping. I had wept outwardly for those that had perished and for their love ones, but I did not realize that my heart was mourning and weeping for my ?Beloved Trade Center.?
Yes, I would want to have the building rebuilt. More out of spite than anything else, just to be able to go to the top of the new buildings and thumb my nose at the killers of my world and be the first to dare them to try it again!
But, as in life when your beloved is taken from you, it can never be replaced. No matter how magnificent a new comer is. I pray for a new center and that it will be protected from all harm, but She will never take the place of my beloved ?Trade Center? of my world. I will call her by a new name in my new world as the ?Trade Winds? of the World.
Collection
Citation
“story8113.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed December 26, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/15205.