story1621.xml

story1621.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-08-31

I had a scheduled MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) on Sept. 11, and was put into the machine right before 9am. The technicians gave me the bad news that while the headphones they put on my head would block some of the louding knocking sounds an MRI produces, the CD player wasn't working, so I couldn't listen to music while inside. Would I mind listening to the radio?

After a few minutes of knocking and unrememorable pop music playing over the headset, the radio suddenly cut to a news broadcast, describing how a "small plane" had hit the World Trade Center. Having worked as a commuter to NYC (in publishing), I thought, "Well, it really was just a matter of time that something like that happened," and didn't think much more of it. Then the music was interrupted again, and the second plane hit was reported. My mind suddenly started thinking, "This is deliberate." I began panicking. The radio reported that the first plane was from Boston -- I had friends flying from Boston to LA that morning. My heartrate went up: in the isolation, I could feel everything, and nothing. I was in a tank, alone, with loud knocks all around, and no one to talk to, to tell me what was =really= going on.

The technicians cut in on a microphone and reminded me to stay still: apparently I was moving in agitation. I held completely still while they told me my heartrate was too high: was I perhaps afraid of small places? I told them what I was hearing on the radio. They responded that the radio wasn't playing out in their area; perhaps I was imaging things. That sort of thing, planes hitting the WTC, couldn't possibly be happening. "Sometimes people imagine things while in the isolation of the MRI," they said. I began to doubt what I thought I was hearing. Maybe it was a radio drama.

Time went by. Reports kept coming in. I was still in isolation, as they had to extend the MRI tests. Then I heard about the Pentagon. My imagination filled in the images more clearly than I've ever seen before -- very strange. What was next? Boston itself? We were only 60 miles away -- too close if someone had a pocket nuke or another device. No, that wasn't possible. I began to wonder if the techs were right: was I imagining it all?

Finally the test ended and I could leave. I told the techs once more about the radio broadcasts, and once more they rejected the idea that it had really happened.

The clinic was strangely quiet. Everyone was going about their business as if nothing was happening. No one had heard what I had heard. I felt as if I were still in the MRI chamber: isolated in my knowledge. I was =sure= it had happened, but what if ... ?

It was not until I got into my car and turned on the radio, and I could confirm it all. It =was= happening. I hadn't imagine it after all.

It was the closest thing to feeling as if I'd truly lost my mind as I've ever felt. But that was nothing compared to what others were going through. I knew so many people in New York. Including some living in Battery Park City -- right in the shadow of the WTC. What about them?

They turned out to be safe, and in fact came to live with me for a month and a half before returning home; home beside the rubble and the smell and the fear. My friends flying from Boston on Sept 11? -- one had delayed his flight. The other was on his plane. Danny's gone now -- no body to bury.