In Memory of 9/11

(republished from 9/11/09)

I didn't think I would write this.  But I spent all day thinking about that awful September 11, remembering all of the meetings I'd been to at Windows on the World, all of the memories of downtown, thinking of the devastation, remembering the city before, and then after. 

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I was sitting around a conference table in midtown Manhattan for our regular morning meeting.  The meeting was just starting when a co-worker walked in and announced that a plane had crashed into one of the WTC towers.  We immediately speculated that it was some prop plane that had veered off course on its way down the Hudson.  A moment later, a another gentleman walked in and announced that it was an airliner - a jet.

Hearts racing, everyone went back to their offices to read the breaking news and call friends and family downtown.  I couldn't get through to my brand new husband, who was working near Union Square.  Nor could I reach a friend who worked in the World Financial Center.  Then the other plane hit.  There was news of other planes crashing.  This was a terrorist attack.

We watched in horror as one tower fell.  Then the second.  People were streaming up from downtown.  It was a mass exodus.  I finally reached my husband and determined he was ok.  I still couldn't reach my friend. 

When I left the building to go home, traffic was nearly nonexistent except for emergency vehicles.  People were silently walking, heads down.  Some of them were covered in dust.  Many openly cried as they walked.  I couldn't see any buses and didn't even attempt to go to the subway, so I walked 50 blocks home.

When I got there, I finally reached my friend.  She had seen horrible, horrible things as she and many others ran from downtown.  The gruesome images on the TV were mild in comparison to what she had witnessed that day.  My husband got home and I clutched him tightly.  We called our families to let them know we were okay.  We watched television coverage of families desperately trying to find their loved ones, going hospital to hospital, and hoped more people would be found alive in the rubble.

The next workday, I took the bus to midtown.  People silently met each others gazes in sympathy and grief.  The city felt unified in its shock and sadness.  The entire bus was silent until the driver snapped at someone.  I burst into tears and exited ten blocks before my stop.

The rumors and fears of additional attacks continued for some time.  Security was extremely tight, and we all regarded the police with gratitude.

To all of the people who lost their lives in the Twin Towers and to all of the rescue workers who died trying to save them: you will never be far from our thoughts.  We will never forget.