story199.xml

story199.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-03-08

i had just gotten off the 4 train at wall street when the second plane hit. i was hanging at the back of the crowd waiting to go up the steps because i was recovering from a broken kneecap and still couldn't manage steps well. all of a sudden, the whole crowd on the stairs jumped in shock -- and turned to come back down the stairs. no one knew what was going on. some folks stayed on the platform, others changed their minds and went aboveground. i figured that something was happening on the street -- i thought, someone with a gun? a horrible truck accident? -- so i turned to walk up the platform to enter my building from underneath.

then a woman came running through the station -- tears streaming down her face -- screaming hysterically that a plane had crashed into the world trade center and that people were jumping from the building. it was one of those frozen moments. i couldn't completely absorb the information. my brain began moving slowly. the only thing i knew to do was to GO HOME. i walked to the underpass to cross to the uptown side of the tracks -- hoping to catch the next train. as i was slowly going down the steps, one at a time, people started running through, screaming -- get out of manhattan! go to brooklyn! by that point, my brain had slowed to a reptilian speed. my thoughts came slowly, like very patient tickertapes across my mind. i thought -- is the uptown train not running? i turned around to head back up the stairs, one by one. slowly. but my knee ached and my brain thought, you need to go home. without any kind of logic, i decided to simply believe that the uptown train would arrive. i turned around again and headed down the stairs.

when i made it to the uptown platform, there were a few people waiting. which relieved me. i sat on the bench. it was about 9:15. as i waited, more and more people streamed onto the platform. agitated, upset, panicked. i realized i had to tell someone that i wouldn't be able to run. so i turned to woman next to me, and said, you know, i can't run. then a guy arrived on the platform -- he had a videocamera, and had shot footage of the burning buildings. i was cold all over, and my brain slowed down even more. the kind of slow-motion shock that helps you survive. after some long minutes, the train finally arrived. we all got on.

but people were getting off the train, and all my brain could think was this is wrong. the subway conductors had no inkling of what was going on aboveground -- people were getting off the train, heading toward work. all i could think was: this is wrong. i stood up and blocked the doors so they stayed open, made eye contact with the conductor, and shouted as calmly (but as loudly) as i could the only words i could think of. "GET BACK ON THE TRAIN." i said it over and over again. i couldn't think of any other words to say. people looked at me, saw i was serious, not crazy.

some turned to get back on the train.

one of them was a cocky young blond wall street kid in a nice grey suit. he was irritated, said -- "but i don't work in the trade center." i remember saying, "just go home. find out what's happening. go to work late." another was a young african kid, who'd been on his way to college in staten island. he said, "i should get off the train. i need to get on the c train (which runs underneath the towers) i need to go home to brooklyn." i said, "come with me to brooklyn on the l, and we'll figure out a way to get you home." he did, and i was glad for the company, because i was still worried about needing to run. once we were on the l train, headed out of union square to brooklyn, he relaxed -- he could take the l train to near where he lived. but he was worried about his mom, who worked downtown somewhere. i still think about that, and i hope she made it home that day.

when i arrived back in brooklyn at 9:45 -- people were lined along my block -- standing on the sidewalk, in the street -- just staring at the burning towers. the nice chinese woman who runs the laundry couldn't move her hand from in front of her mouth. her daughter's high school was right by the trade center. (she got home safe.) my friend elizabeth was sitting on my stoop, crying, because she knew i had been down there. the building where i worked was diagonal to the trade center. it was impossible to comprehend what was happening, why she was so upset. i had no clue that i had escaped grave danger. i was in a kind of shock. it took weeks and weeks before it sunk in. had i been outside, had my timing been different. my injury saved me, made me protect myself, in a very basic way.

i was upstairs, in my third floor apartment, calling my grandpa in ohio -- saying "something terrible has happened in new york. and i'm all right. tell anyone who calls you that i'm all right" -- when my old italian landlord called up the stairs with terror and panic in his voice, saying that that one of the towers had fallen. no one could have imagined that they would fall. it was simply not possible. we huddled that day, a bunch of friends, glued to the tv in victoria's apartment. trying like crazy to get phone lines out to make calls. waiting for the internet service to be restored. silent, staring, panicked, terrified.

my birthday was three days later. some friends of mine, just the ones who live close by, went to dinner with me at a sweet little restaurant in the neighborhood. my friend victoria arranged for a fancy birthday cake, which was a total surprise.

the whole restaurant sang happy birthday to me. i burst into tears. to be alive, to be with friends in a candlelit restaurant. the whole world as we knew it, forever changed.