nmah6363.xml

nmah6363.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2003-11-18

I was working for the US Enviromental Protection Agency just a few blocks from the World Trade Cener. Shortly after hearing the first explosion, my boss came in to tell us that she was down on Broadway getting coffee when she saw the plane crash into the first tower. It was no accident, she said, and it was a large passenger jet. Our television set didn't work, since it was hooked up to cable, so we couldn't get any news via TV. We knew this was bad and started to get a head count of the people on our floor (only three years before, we had been informed that our federal building was on Bin Laden's "hit list", and we had not forgotten this) - the only TV working was one not hooked up to cable and it was in the office of our Deputy Regional Administrator - his office had five huge windows that faced the WTC, where we could see the hole in the first tower and flames and a number or smaller explosions, and people beginning to jump and fall from the bulding. I then saw a plane come around one of the towers. It seemed to speed up and crash into the second tower which then erupted into a huge torch of flame. I remember thinking "this is war, someone is attacking my country." We knew we needed to get out of our building. I didn't know that the woman standing next to me in that office, looking out on that horror had a sister in the tower. Her sister was killed, and she had watched it. All of us were waiting for an explosion to hit our bulding next. We started to evacuate. After going down 30 flights of stairs, I made it to the street at Broadway and Reade. FBI agents and SWAT teams were directing us away from our building.

The streets were filled with smoke, and what looked like snow falling. I later saw that this snow was paper - all sorts of papers that had been blown from the WTC into lower Manhattan - memos from offices, photos of people - bits and pieces of the workday lives of those in the WTC. At this same time, we saw that people were jumping from the towers - some were together, holding hands, one lady tried to keep her dress down as she began to fall. It was the worst thing I'd ever seen in my life, and a vision that still replays itself in my memory no matter how hard I try to make it stop. As I made my way across Broadway, I saw three fighter jets overhead - I was never so happy to see the US military in my life, and I wanted them to get the bastards who had done this. I remember seeing a group of construction workers jump from their truck, pick up all the tools they could handle and run to help some cops who were headed toward the WTC. I wonder if they made it. I was on Church Street heading north when the first tower fell. Someone behind me started screaming that the building was collapsing - but I couldn't turn around and look, I just kept moving, looking down at the streets littered with people's lives and what was left of downtown NYC. When the building came down it felt like an earthquake and I first thought that someone had bombed the subways. Later, I made it to a friend's apartment in Greenwich Village where I stayed that night. I went over to St. Vincent's hospital to volunteer help for whatever was needed, but was turned away - they had more volunteers than they needed, and there were so few survivors being treated at the hospital. I remember the face of a young doctor, still in green scrubs, stethoscope around her neck, walking on Seventh Avenue South near the hospital, with tears running down her face. While ambulances had gone toward the towers with sirens blasting, they were returning without sirens and lights - death was everywhere. I still dream about it, I can still hear it and smell it - and the whine of a low flying plane's engine is enough to wake me up, but the worst thing is the unrequited anger against those who committed this terrible act of murder. I can do nothing but try to make my country and my city stronger, and keep my faith in God. God got me through the 11th and He'll get me through the aftermath. For those of us who experienced it up close and personal, it will never heal, there will never be closure, it will always be a wound to our souls.

I still live and work in NYC - in fact, this spring my employer is moving to the World Financial Center in the shadow of Ground Zero. I'm going too - it won't be easy, but if we don't move on, the bastards win. My view of life is very different now - time is more precious, family and loved ones mean more, and I cherish my country more than ever. I have learned not to sweat the small things - life is too short and too precious, and my faith in God is stronger than ever. September 11th made me stronger, more resolute, and yes, a little bit tougher - but then again, I'm a New Yorker.

That this was a terrible act of war launched against our nation, our citizens and our way of life. It must always be called by it's true name, an "attack" not a "tragedy" or "terrible incident", as I hear so often. September 11 should be a national day of remembrence - a day for reflection, love of country and family, and renewal of faith in God.

I have always flown my flag - I have always loved our flag. It saddens me to see that those who did fly their flags after September 11th do not do so now.