story1642.xml
Title
story1642.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-09-01
911DA Story: Story
I'll never forget it.
One of our customers called us, asking if we were OK. We asked why, and were told to turn on the news ASAP.
The horror that awaited us on the TV was unspeakable. At first we thought it was simply an accident. Then, out of nowhere, came the second plane.
A couple of us grabbed the office camera and headed out to the corner of 26th. St. & 5th. Ave., where we had a clear view of the WTC. I'd never seen so many people out on the streets before - it looked like everyone who worked in the area came down for a better look, as if what was being shown on TV wasn't real and that when they came outside the towers would be there as they always were.
Even from a distance, we could see that it was bad. Very bad. We knew that words wouldn't begin to describe what we were seeing, so we took a couple of quick shots and went back to the office to contact our outside sales force, and make sure all wer OK before calling our corporate headquarters (located in another state).
We had some very tense moments as one of our salesmen wasn't responding to our phone calls or messages. We have many clients whose offices were in the Towers, and we were concerned that he may have gone to meet with one of them that day. Fortunately, he called us not long afterwards to say that he was OK, that he had been on the LIRR into the city and that his train had been turned around.
In what I can only describe as shock and fear, we watched the news as one by one the towers fell.
I tried several times to call my husband at home in Brooklyn, without success. Then I tried calling my parents in CA - got through no problem. They said that they had been able to reach my husband, and that they would call him back for me. I guess what they teach us to do in an earthquake (call someone outside the area) works just as well in situations like this. Go figure!
At around noon the decision was made to start letting people head for home. We spoke with the president of our company, who said that if we couldn't make it home that he would make whatever hotel arrangements he could for us.
After speaking with my husband via my parents again, I made the decision to walk to the Brooklyn Bridge, where my husband would be able to meet me on the Brooklyn side.
I left the office at around 2:00p and, like so many others did that day, made my way down to the bridges of Lower Manhattan to try and get home.
As if the events of that morning weren't enough, I saw things on my walk that both scared me and made me proud to live in NYC.
One of the first things I saw as I headed down Park Ave. was the sight of a refrigerated delivery truck being escorted by NYPD. I'm not going to say what the contents of that truck were, but it was one of many that I saw that day.
As I got closer to my destination, I saw that people - business owners and residents alike - were offering whatever aid they could to those of us walking home. Water, phones, restrooms, a place to rest - it felt so incredibly good knowing that people were willing to help total strangers.
I continued on, and eventually arrived at the lower end of Chinatown. There were many streets blocked off, and so I approached a policeman to ask which way I should go to get to the Brooklyn Bridge. As I walked up, there was a couple talking to him. The woman was asking him where they could go to get closer to Ground Zero. He looked at them like they had completely lost their minds, and told them this was as close as they were going to get. They walked off, and he turned to me saying "Why on earth would anyone want to get closer!?!?!?" He then told me which streets to take, and told me to be careful.
I didn't think about what he really meant, until I got to the Brooklyn Bridge. The northern side appeared OK, but to get where I needed to go I had to cross under it and walk up the southern side (the side closest to Lower Manhattan) a couple of blocks to access the roadway.
As soon as I crossed under the bridge, I was greeted with a sight that took my breath away. Ash, half charred papers, and other debris covered the area. Taking the first step into that wasteland was so hard, but I didn't have any choice if I was to get home. I walked past a man's shirt, which was lying in the ash next to a woman's shoe. There were countless pieces of paper, most partially burnt, some with peoples names still legible. A block away from me, shadowed by the billowing smoke, I passed a hospital. There was a line down the block of people waiting to get inside - some to donate blood or offer whatever help they could, others not injured enough to be treated right away.
After what seemed an eternity, I made it onto the Brooklyn-bound roadway and was greeted with the most wonderful sight in the whole world - an MTA bus, waiting to take me (and about 4 dozen others) across the bridge to safety.
I was never so happy to be home in my husbands arms as I was that night! We'd only been married a few months at that point, and the thought of being apart from him that day was almost unbearable.
That's my story.
One of our customers called us, asking if we were OK. We asked why, and were told to turn on the news ASAP.
The horror that awaited us on the TV was unspeakable. At first we thought it was simply an accident. Then, out of nowhere, came the second plane.
A couple of us grabbed the office camera and headed out to the corner of 26th. St. & 5th. Ave., where we had a clear view of the WTC. I'd never seen so many people out on the streets before - it looked like everyone who worked in the area came down for a better look, as if what was being shown on TV wasn't real and that when they came outside the towers would be there as they always were.
Even from a distance, we could see that it was bad. Very bad. We knew that words wouldn't begin to describe what we were seeing, so we took a couple of quick shots and went back to the office to contact our outside sales force, and make sure all wer OK before calling our corporate headquarters (located in another state).
We had some very tense moments as one of our salesmen wasn't responding to our phone calls or messages. We have many clients whose offices were in the Towers, and we were concerned that he may have gone to meet with one of them that day. Fortunately, he called us not long afterwards to say that he was OK, that he had been on the LIRR into the city and that his train had been turned around.
In what I can only describe as shock and fear, we watched the news as one by one the towers fell.
I tried several times to call my husband at home in Brooklyn, without success. Then I tried calling my parents in CA - got through no problem. They said that they had been able to reach my husband, and that they would call him back for me. I guess what they teach us to do in an earthquake (call someone outside the area) works just as well in situations like this. Go figure!
At around noon the decision was made to start letting people head for home. We spoke with the president of our company, who said that if we couldn't make it home that he would make whatever hotel arrangements he could for us.
After speaking with my husband via my parents again, I made the decision to walk to the Brooklyn Bridge, where my husband would be able to meet me on the Brooklyn side.
I left the office at around 2:00p and, like so many others did that day, made my way down to the bridges of Lower Manhattan to try and get home.
As if the events of that morning weren't enough, I saw things on my walk that both scared me and made me proud to live in NYC.
One of the first things I saw as I headed down Park Ave. was the sight of a refrigerated delivery truck being escorted by NYPD. I'm not going to say what the contents of that truck were, but it was one of many that I saw that day.
As I got closer to my destination, I saw that people - business owners and residents alike - were offering whatever aid they could to those of us walking home. Water, phones, restrooms, a place to rest - it felt so incredibly good knowing that people were willing to help total strangers.
I continued on, and eventually arrived at the lower end of Chinatown. There were many streets blocked off, and so I approached a policeman to ask which way I should go to get to the Brooklyn Bridge. As I walked up, there was a couple talking to him. The woman was asking him where they could go to get closer to Ground Zero. He looked at them like they had completely lost their minds, and told them this was as close as they were going to get. They walked off, and he turned to me saying "Why on earth would anyone want to get closer!?!?!?" He then told me which streets to take, and told me to be careful.
I didn't think about what he really meant, until I got to the Brooklyn Bridge. The northern side appeared OK, but to get where I needed to go I had to cross under it and walk up the southern side (the side closest to Lower Manhattan) a couple of blocks to access the roadway.
As soon as I crossed under the bridge, I was greeted with a sight that took my breath away. Ash, half charred papers, and other debris covered the area. Taking the first step into that wasteland was so hard, but I didn't have any choice if I was to get home. I walked past a man's shirt, which was lying in the ash next to a woman's shoe. There were countless pieces of paper, most partially burnt, some with peoples names still legible. A block away from me, shadowed by the billowing smoke, I passed a hospital. There was a line down the block of people waiting to get inside - some to donate blood or offer whatever help they could, others not injured enough to be treated right away.
After what seemed an eternity, I made it onto the Brooklyn-bound roadway and was greeted with the most wonderful sight in the whole world - an MTA bus, waiting to take me (and about 4 dozen others) across the bridge to safety.
I was never so happy to be home in my husbands arms as I was that night! We'd only been married a few months at that point, and the thought of being apart from him that day was almost unbearable.
That's my story.
Collection
Citation
“story1642.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed December 22, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/8400.