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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 to do it later in the day.
I 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. “We have to read books with chapters!” 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/Rector St. 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 8:45 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 one of the towers. The other people listened to this news, but nobody reacted much. 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 calmly got off the train and headed out into the street.
As I came up the stairs on to the sidewalk everything seemed wrong. People were standing still (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 one of the buildings and what looked for all the world like silver glitter falling down from the sky. I started to walk towards work. I just didn't think that it could be that serious and my building is right 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. It was the kind of sound that you don’t hear so much a feel in your bones. People started screaming and running the other way. I remember I was wearing a pair of 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 finally occurred to me that I could really die out here this morning. I don’t think there was anything very big coming down, but you just didn't know what was going on. To make matters worse, the sidewalk I was on was underneath one of those construction awnings so even if I could look behind me, I couldn’t see anything above my head but plywood. I crouched behind a construction dumpster under some scaffolding at the end of the block and covered my head with my hands for a minute. All those years of tornado drills in the mid-west finally clicked in, I guess.
When it seemed like it was a little quieter, I got up and started down the street again. At this point people were still in the street, some of them on their cell phones. Nobody knew where to go or what to do. 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, slim woman dressed in a business suit helping a big guy wearing overalls. He was bleeding all over from a bunch of cuts. 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 from the security guard, but they didn't have anything else. It was pandemonium inside as well.
We started trying to clean the man up. He seemed to be in shock. He said he was a maintenance worker at the WTC and he had been eating breakfast in the courtyard (where the fountain used to be) when the first plane hit. He dove under his truck when the first plane hit 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 mother and I think he left with a policeman to find an ambulance.
I sat down on the ground and started to talk to the woman.
We just talked about what was going on and shared some bottled water. Neither of our phones worked. She told me her name was Shira and she had been trying to call her husband back, but she couldn’t get through. There were people all over the place trying to use their cell phones. I think there was a major antenna on one of the WTC towers and it was gone. Shira told me it was her son’s third birthday that day and she needed 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. I didn't want to die on that street in NYC.
I remember looking at the burning towers and wondering how the firefighters were going to get everyone out. It simply never occurred to me that they wouldn't be able to, that they were walking into a death trap.
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, find out if it was going to be safe to move. 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, more sinister rumbling started. We couldn’t see anything because the buildings are so close together downtown. People began to run again and we could finally 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 it to the railing and held on while the filthy stuff swept over us. 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 your mouth." So we tried to do that with our shirts, but it was already everywhere.
After a while it began to thin out and we could breathe a little. We hadn't suffocated, but now what? A man came outside from the safety of one of the buildings. He was relatively clean and 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 probably 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 told Shira that I lived on Staten Island very near the ferry and that she could come home with me if she wanted.
I was not prepared for what we saw when we got outside. Everything was covered in the dust. There were papers and parts of office equipment (I think) in the street. It was all one bleak dusty mess. I had no idea where we were or which way was downtown. I had walked up this stretch of Broadway everyday for a year and I was completely lost. Finally I recognized the Dress Barn store a block down, 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. I was terrified to have to walk past the entrance to Wall St. I thought for sure the stock exchange building was going to blow up at any minute. 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 to my apartment.
We got to the ferry and waited downstairs for the boat. We all looked like a bunch of refugees. When the boat finally docked and they opened the doors we saw that it was completely full with firefighters, EMTs and their trucks. As they walked off the boat everyone began to cheer and applaud. It was amazing and kind of eerie. These people were heading into the war zone and we were all scrambling to get out.
We rode the ferry past the Statue of Liberty and stared at the mess we had left behind. It was like a bad movie. The smoke just kept pouring into the sky and the towers were gone. It made no sense.
Shira stayed the night. Her husband was able to get across the bridge the next day and pick her up. I was happy for her, but that was the moment when I finally lost all composure. I hadn’t cried until that moment.
When I think of 9-11 these days, 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. For better or worse, it is a day that changed my life forever.

These days I live in Los Angeles, closer to my family. I've gone back to school and gotten married. Every year 9/11 rolls around I try to remember the little details about that day and the days afterward - the "Missing" posters all over town, the firefighter's funerals almost every day and how the city came together to grieve and begin to heal.
This year I'm going to go to the Los Angeles Firefighter's Training Center where they have a large piece of the World Trade Center on display. They will be having a memorial service in the morning. I like to go there to somehow feel closer to that day. Sometimes I really wish I could get back to NYC where I know people "get it". But I'm so glad to be here near my family and old friends again.