story1041.xml

story1041.xml

born-digital

story

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no

2002-08-17

On Sept. 11, 2001 I was working as a temp at American Express in the World Financial Center. The day started out with an early morning. I wanted to vote in the city primary election before I went to work. I?m an actress and there was an audition that I wanted to go to that evening, so I wouldn't have time. My boyfriend, Paul was working as a poll watcher at my voting station. I remember he made a big deal out of telling me not to talk to him or hug him or anything because it would look bad in front of the officials. So, I got up, went and voted for city councilman etc., did not say anything to Paul, and got on the 8:15 Staten Island Ferry to Manhattan. I sat downstairs next to two girls in school uniforms. They talked to me for the whole ride about school and how hard fourth grade is. They wanted to know what it?s like to be an actor and if I had liked the fourth grade. They were so sweet and they were really one of the last normal things about the whole day.
When the ferry docked I got off and headed for the 1/9 train to the World Trade Center. It was so beautiful out that morning. The sky was clear, it was just a little brisk and I thought about walking to work, but I knew it would take too long so I took the train.
Sometimes the 1/9 train will come to the South Ferry station and sit for a few minutes. That?s what it did that morning. I got on the train at about 8:46 AM. A man was talking to his brother on his cell phone and said something about a plane hitting the Trade Center. When he hung up I turned to him and asked if I had heard him right. He said yes, his brother said that a plane had hit the tower. Everyone kind of shrugged. We figured it was a small plane that must have had an accident. The doors closed and we were off. The train stopped at the next station (Rector St.) and the conductor told us to please clear the train. He said there was an accident at the WTC and the train would be stopping here. We still didn't think much of it and everyone got off the train and headed out into the street.
As I came up the stairs on to the street things seemed wrong. Everyone was standing around (which never happens on a weekday morning in the financial district) looking up at the Towers. We were only a couple of blocks away. There was black smoke pouring out of the building and what looked like glitter falling down from the sky. I started to walk to work. I just didn't think that it could be that serious and my building is next to the Trade Center. There used to be an indoor footbridge connecting the two. I got about a block away when A shadow passed overhead. As I looked up, the second plane hit the building. There was the loudest rumbling/crashing sound I ever heard and the ground shook. People started screaming and running the other way. I remember I was wearing these pants boots with a pretty sturdy heel and as I ran I hoped I wouldn't trip and break my leg. There was another loud rumbling and stuff started to fall out of the sky and hit the street. At that point it occurred to me that I could really die out here this morning. I don?t think there was anything very big, but you just didn't know what was going on. I crouched behind a construction dumpster under some scaffolding and covered my head with my hands for a minute.
When it seemed like it was a little quieter, I got up and started down the street again. I got to rector St and turned the corner. I found myself on the patio/alcove of the 2 Rector St office building. There was a small woman helping a large man in overalls. He was bleeding all over. I just stood there for a moment, confused. The woman looked up and saw me. She told me to go inside and see if they had water or paper towels. Suddenly, I had a task. Water or paper towels! Yes, I would devote my life for the next few minutes to that. That made more sense than anything else that was going on. I got some water but they didn't have anything else. It was pandemonium inside as well.
We started trying to clean the man up. He seemed pretty shocky. He said he was a maintenance worker at the WTC and he had been eating breakfast in the courtyard when the first plane hit. He dove under his truck and ran as soon as he thought it was relatively safe. He said he saw people falling from the sky and lots of blood. He wanted to go call his mom and I think he went off to find a policeman or a phone.
I sat down on the ground and started to talk to the woman. Her name is Shira and she is one of my best friends today. She has saved my life in more than one way and I am forever grateful to her.
We just talked about what was going on and shared some water and a cigarette. Neither of our phones worked. There were people all over the place trying to use their cell phones. Nobody?s cell phone would work. Shira told me it was her son?s birthday today and she wanted to get home. I couldn?t have agreed with her more. At that moment all I wanted was to see my mom and my family in Ca. I didn't want to die in NYC.
After a little bit, we got up and started to walk down to the corner. We wanted to take a look and see what was going on. There was lots of smoke now and more silver glittery bits floating down from the flames. We turned around to head back to our spot when another rumbling started. People began to run again and you could see this solid looking, dirty cloud speeding towards us. We turned and ran, but we were engulfed before we could reach the building. We made to the railing and held on. You couldn't breathe and it just seemed to get thicker and thicker. I thought it would just keep coming until we all suffocated on the street. There was just no air. I lost Shira for a second but we found each other again and held hands. The stuff was in my nose and mouth and you couldn't see a thing. A woman next to us kept saying ?Cover your nose and you mouth.? So we did.
After a little bit it began to thin out a little. We hadn't suffocated, but now what? A man must have come outside from the safety of his building. I could hear him telling everyone to join hands and make a chain, to follow the sound of his voice. I don?t know who he is, but he is a hero to me. He led us all into a building where they had water bottles and clean rags to put over our faces. Shira and I tried to spit out some of the stuff and actually laughed a little. It was one of many very surreal moments. They moved everyone to another part of the building and we waited and listened to the news on a small radio. That?s when we first heard that this was a terrorist attack, that the debris cloud that had just swept through the street was the first tower collapsing, that the Pentagon had been hit as well and that no one knew what the hell was going on.
After about an hour a policeman came in and said that the Ferry to Staten Island was running. A lot of people were talking about walking north or walking over the South Street Sea port. I old Shira that I lived on Staten Island very near the ferry and that she could come home with me if she wanted. She decided to do that and we set off.
When we got outside it was amazing. I had no idea where we were or which way was downtown. Everything was cover in the dust. I had walked up this stretch of Broadway everyday for a year and I was completely lost. Finally I noticed the Dress Barn store a block down and got my bearings and we started on one of the longest walks of my life. We passed Wall St. and the Bull statue and the Native American Museum. We actually found a working payphone and I called home. My brother answered and I told him to let everyone know I was all right and that I would try to call when I got home.
We got to the ferry and waited for the boat. When it finally docked and they opened the door we saw that the boat was completely full with firefighters and EMT trucks. As they walked off the boat everyone began to cheer. It was amazing. These people were heading into the war zone and we were getting out.
We rode the ferry back and watched as the city burned. It was like a bad movie. The smoke just kept pouring into the sky and the towers were gone. It made no sense.
We got to my house and got cleaned up. Shira stayed the night. Her husband, Roy, was able to get across the bridge the next day and pick her up. They lived in Brooklyn.
I will never forget that day. I try to remember things like meeting Shira, the man who came for us in the street and the firefighters faces as they headed uptown.