story215.xml

story215.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-03-11

The world stood in disbelief as the unthinkable unfolded right before our very eyes. It seemed as if the whole world was literally crumbling before us. Within a matter of minutes the lives of every American changed forever. No longer will we take for granted the reality of just how vulnerable we really are. The very labels we assign to one another was that which bound us together, that dreadful day we all forgot that we were African or Irish American, the fact of the matter was that we were all American.
I remember sitting on the ?L? train when the second plan hit and still I had no idea of the magnitude of what really occurred. I was on my way to work and someone casually pointed out that the towers were on fire. I and so many other commuters on that train simply assumed that shortly the fire would be put out. How could we have imagined that we would be under attack? As I exited the subway on 34th street, I barely had time to enter the office; hysterical co-workers greeted me. I must have sat down for what seemed to be eternity trying to grasp what was really happening. It is then; you see where your true loyalties lie. I called my little sister?s school, my older sister?s job and a long list of other people.
I sat in disbelief as the minutes turned into hours, subways were shut, bridges were closed and a state of emergency was declared. The empire state building was announced to be a possible terrorist target. All hell broke lose. Nowhere was safe, up until that point we had all huddled in a supervisor?s office listening to the radio. I remember thinking this could not be happening. Everyone frantically called his or her loved ones in search of false assurance that the other was o.k. As we waited for the subways to reopen, patience and fear quickly turned into frustration and anger. Minutes quickly crept into hours and some subway services had resumed on a Sunday schedule. Fortunate for me, the trains I needed to get home were among the lucky ones. I rushed home and got my little sister from school.
We sat glued in front of the tube for hours. It seemed information was not forth coming soon enough. I waited and waited until my mother got home. It seemed a lifetime before she walked through the door. I must have thanked GOD a thousand times for sparing her life. I stayed awake for at least 48 hours watching the news. Every television and radio was on for fear that some vital information would come and we need to make a means of escape. Escape to where? Any information was information no matter the validity. As we watch the towers crumbled over and over again on TV, every one called on his and her GOD pleading for the lives of those trapped. As we waited to count our losses with every other American, it seemed we died every time the death toll got higher and the notch for survivors decreased. Survivors were not forthcoming and our very heroes became victims. Solace was no where to be found, comfort was comfort less and well wishing was dried up. Tears flowed relentless.
I couldn?t explain what was happening. I couldn?t speak; words escaped every emotion I felt. I wanted to, no, I needed to reach out and comfort in order to be comforted. I gave blood; I donated blankets, socks and food. I hugged random people, I had this need to touch and feel if this hurt other people as much as it did me. Somehow, the need to be there for someone else made this feel more real and made me all the more stronger. Ground Zero became synonymous with Ground Hero. The story that remained etched in my mind forever is Cantor Fitzgerald?s. With that story came a new wave of tears couple with the weight of guilt for having had survived when so many others did not. His very experience spoke to every survivor. That horrible day it hurt be an American but it proved that a country as large as the US could pull together and be a community.


Geraldine Jupiter
New York, NY