I will get to more questions tomorrow afternoon. For now, here’s something I wrote in 2002, if you’re interested:
I don’t remember the sound of the impact.
I worked in 2WTC, on the 64th floor. I was in the ground floor lobby of that building, heading for the elevators, when the plane hit Tower 1. I’m sure there was a huge noise, but I don’t remember the sound. (Some part of my brain remembers it, because I still jump if I hear a loud noise). Everyone stopped walking, some people screamed, it was immediately obvious that something was very wrong. Directly ahead of me, through a floor-to-ceiling window, I saw sheets and sheets of paper falling to the ground. Burning objects began to hit the sidewalk.
Between the two towers of the World Trade Center, there was a huge plaza. I ate lunch, heard concerts, met friends there. It was the site of a fun, sweet kiss, once, where the guy picked me right up off the ground as he greeted me. (I just remembered that as I was typing. How odd to think that the spot is gone).
On September 11, I walked across that plaza and into 2WTC - there was a mezzanine level lobby. I took an escalator down one flight to a lower lobby, where the elevators were. That’s where I was when the plane hit. I don’t know what would have happened to me had I been a few seconds early - in the plaza – or a few seconds later - in the elevator.
No one around me knew what was happening. I stayed for a few minutes, trying to figure out what was going on, where my coworkers were, or if I could go up to my office. Someone said a plane had hit the other building, and of course I thought “Cessna.”
So I went back up the escalator to the plaza level to look out. There was paper covering the plaza. I could see the smoke and flames pouring out of Tower 1. I went back down. I was sort of silently freaking and trying not to cry. There was another explosion of some sort, or a noise, I don’t know what, and I thought “Fuck it, I’m going home.”
People were being herded out through the mall under the towers. I got out and started to head east, with the crowds, toward South Street Seaport. Before I had gone very far, I ran into a coworker. She was staring up at Tower 1, paralyzed with fear. I was trying hard not to look back, as the sight of that building in flames was the scariest, most horrible thing I’d ever seen. I grabbed my coworker, asked her if she’d called her husband. The two of us began to walk, with a crowd of others.
As we walked away from our office, the second plane slammed into Tower 2. We ran. We didn’t look back. A man fell just in front of me, and I ran right by him. We could hear and feel the explosion, and I thought that I’d either be hit by something from behind or trampled in the crowd. I thought, right then, that I was about to die. Without question, that was the most terrifying moment of my life.
I’m not sure how far I ran, but I lost track of my coworker in the melee. Then I made the mistake of looking back. Seeing not only Tower 1 but my own building in flames was unbearable. Just thinking about it, even now, makes me gasp in fear.
I started to walk uptown, toward my housemate Patrick’s office. On the way, I stopped to call my family – my parents in Rhode Island; my sister, who teaches in the Bronx; and my aunt, who lives in Tribeca, just a few blocks from ground zero.
While I was walking, the towers fell. I had no idea if anyone I knew was alive. All I could think, over and over again, was, “I could be dead. I could be dead. Everyone I know is dead.” I was convinced of it. It turns out that my company was very lucky. We only lost six employees and six contractors, out of 3,500 employees. Everyone I know survived.
I walked to Patrick’s office, but he wasn’t there. He was home sick, in fact, and had slept through the attacks. One of his coworkers took me in and sat me in a conference room. After many, many tries, I managed to get hold of my friend Eliza, who lives in Manhattan. She was home, and I headed for her place. From Eliza’s, I emailed my entire address book to say that I was alive.
I’m sure you all remember the check-in thread that Billdo started on the SDMB. It was really wonderful to read that – I needed to know that people were concerned about me. It seems so obvious. My family and friends were out of their minds with worry. Still, seeing the thread was a tangible reassurance that it was ok that I was scared out of my mind.
It’s hard to believe it was nearly nine months ago. It simultaneously seems like no time has passed and like years and years have passed.
