It's been seven years. Television, politics, real emotion...they're all going to collide today in New York. A while back when I was writing regularly for the
Chattanooga Pulse - I, along with other contributors and readers, was asked to write of my memory of that earth-shattering day. I found what I wrote and thought I'd share it again - as it seems like yesterday.
Here then is my remembrance:
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Just another lovely autumn day in New York. I was running a little late that Tuesday morning - no surprise. I was supposed to be at work in Chelsea at 9 AM. It was about 20 'til and I was ready to bolt out the door and hop onto the subway for the quick one-stop ride up to 14th St. My roommate hollered upstairs to take a look at the TV before I left. Odd - I thought. But - he didn't usually talk to me in the morning - and certainly not before I was caffeinated. So - I popped on NY1. Hmmm...looks like a Cessna flew off track and into one of the towers we agreed. Perhaps the pilot had had a heart attack? In fact, we had no clue the size or severity of the damage. It wasn't until the smoke became much more pronounced that it was apparent there was a large fire as well.
Terrible. Surprising. Frankly - not earth-shattering. But that changed very quickly. We say "good morning" and continue getting ready. I turn my back to my TV - having set the "sleep" timer and head for the door. My roommate screamed and I turned in time to see the fireball explode from the second tower. Speechless, shocked, a little weak-kneed, I stood dumbfounded - mouth agape. I immediately called my boss and told her what was happening and that I would be late. She laughed it off to my chronic tardiness. I had to really force the issue and stress the gravity of the situation and make her turn on a TV in one of the conference rooms.
Not knowing what else to do, I left and headed for work. I somehow knew I shouldn't take the subway, I didn't know why.
As I walked out of the building onto the street it was SO eery. If you've ever been to New York - you know what a MAJOR thoroughfare Avenue of the Americas, or Sixth Avenue, is. There it was... all traffic at a dead stop. Cars, cabs, trucks just stopped willy nilly. People standing in the street staring. Quietly. It was so quiet. I joined them and just stood there. Eventually someone ran out of a bodega and shouted "They hit the Pentagon." It really set in that things were simply not right. And it wasn't just Manhattan. Stunned - I began walking to work. I really didn't know what else to do.
As I walked slowly, kind of dazed, to work - I felt a rumble, the ground shaking, and heard people begin screaming. I turned to see tower one collapse. Initially, I thought it looked like an explosion because the smoke was rising. It wasn't until that smoke began clearing that it became obvious that the building was gone. I choked back a teary gasp and kept walking.
When I got to work everyone was in the main conference room watching events unfold on the large screen. I quickly called my parents in Las Vegas and told them that when they woke they'd see that terrible things were happening. But - that they should know I was OK and north of the area - living in what would become the first secured military zone - but far enough to only be shrouded in smoke several times as the wind shifted.
As we watched, the antenna shifted and we all gasped as we knew tower two was down. Bewildered, exhausted, we tried to see who could stay where since the bridges and tunnels were all closed and many of our co-workers lived in New Jersey, Connecticut and the outer boroughs. Some walked across the bridge to Brooklyn. And - end of day - they began ferry service to get folks off the island.
We all hugged and dispersed. Not really know what to do...I walked home watching and smelling the thick smoke from lower Manhattan. After hours and hours of watching the same horrible footage over and over and over again, I had to get out of the house. The only traffic on the street was military and emergency vehicles. It was surreal. Worse yet were the fighter jets that kept circling the city. Loud and unnerving. I made my way to my favorite neighborhood bar - The Monster. It was somber and pensive. But - there was a sense of community, comfort and familiarity. No one paid for drinks that night.
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That's what I recall...
