View from Windows on the World, May 2001
This entry is incongruous with my blog, but I felt the need to share my story somewhere, somehow. It’s not that my story is particularly special or unique, but the events of that day have replayed in my head many times in the past 10 years. I thought I’d actually put those memories into words.
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I walked out of my office building and started hailing a cab on Hudson Street in the pouring rain. There was a slight chill in the air, but the rain was warm. Traffic was going south and it was difficult to avoid the view of the two sparkling towers that dominated the night sky. This was a sight that I held every night when I left work . I remember getting a cab very quickly that night despite the rain. I was on my way to meet up with two best friends from college at Do Hwa in the West Village.
The following morning, on September 11th, I had actually left for work earlier than usual which meant that I would get to work on time. I trudged up the stairs from the C/E subway station and walked west on Vandam Street. It was sunny and bright. The sky was especially blue. The air a bit crisp.
I noticed the fire trucks screaming down Varick. I was slightly annoyed since I had made a tremendous effort to make it to work on time and I was being held up by these trucks. My gaze was still fixed downward and on nothing in particular. I was still groggy and intent on getting my coffee. I continued down Varick as the trucks continued to scream by me. There was finally a break and I sprinted across the street with my gaze fixed northward at the fire trucks rumbling toward me. Eyes still down, I walked west on Spring Street.
At midblock I happened to look up and noticed crowds of people looking south. I stopped and looked southward. The view of the towers was perfectly framed between two low-rise buildings. My jaw dropped as I saw black smoke billowing out of the huge gash in the North Tower. My eyes widened and I felt like my eyeballs were about to pop out of my head. I stared hard at the view to make sure that what I was watching was real. Looking at the clear blue sky, I knew that this wasn’t an accident and I quickly became really aware of everything.
I immediately took out my cell phone and tried making calls, but calls weren’t going through. I continued walking to work. It felt like I was moving in slow motion while everything around me was at double-speed. I looked up Hudson and saw that the sidewalks were lined with people looking skyward. I steadily walked across Hudson. I was nervous and a bit in denial. I went to my corner Korean deli and ordered my usual large coffee with milk and an everything bagel with cream cheese and tomato. I asked, “What’s going on?”. The owner, peering over her glasses, just murmured, “I don’t know.” Just then, the ground shook and the collective gasp outside was audible (I later learned that was when the second tower was hit). A man ran in, slapped money down on the counter, grabbed a disposable camera, and ran back out. I paid for my breakfast and continued on my way to work at a steady pace against the the flow of gazes. I did not want to look back.
The office was tense. People were trying to figure out what was going on. The online news sites were overloaded and we couldn’t get any information. I called my mother and for some reason she wasn’t home that morning. “Where the hell is she?” I panicked. I finally reached her and it was the first time she had heard of the attacks. I called my boyfriend (now husband) who was up in Washington Heights and told him what was happening and it was then that he turned on the television. The window near my desk framed the view of the towers perfectly. We all watched the events unravel in front of us, two at a window. A colleague was frantic. His wife was attending a conference at Windows on the World.
The first tower fell. We were all awestruck. The collapse of the towers made me feel especially vulnerable and I could almost hear the city heave when the second tower collapsed. I felt weak and too shocked to cry (though a co-worker said that I was crying). We continued staring out the window. These once gleaming towers looked like a splintering mass of toothpicks when they crumbled. Our hearts were crushed.
Our colleague crumpled and put his head on his desk. Then in a fit of panic, he wanted to go to the site to look for his wife. It took a couple of guys to keep him from leaving the building. He tried to leave several times.
Once we got the ‘OK’ to leave the building, everyone rushed out to join loved ones or to get as far away from downtown as possible. I joined fellow New Yorkers on a 30 block trek northward. My sister and I made plans to meet at the midtown ferry terminal. The line to get on the ferry was orderly, quiet, and somber. A handful looked like ghosts covered in white dust.
I stayed at my sister’s apartment in Weehawken for the next 3 days. I slept on the couch in the living room where the TV flickered on continuously. I did not sleep well. I tried to stay awake every night for fear that something horrible would happen if I slept. Of course, nothing did. I don’t remember eating. I don’t remember moving from that couch. By the third day I was sick of the news coverage and clicked the TV off and joined the real world.
By the 4th or 5th day, I returned to my apartment in Manhattan. The city was forever changed. The country was forever changed.
Where were you on September 11th?
