My day 5 years ago

[a la izquierda]

I grew up in New Jersey, in a little town just across the Raritan Bay from New York City. I was born in 1977, so I spent pretty much every day of my life, until 2000, seeing the World Trade Center. I never thought they were particularly attractive buildings, but I do know how cool it was to go up to the top for the first time, to stare out into the horizon and realize that I was really, really high up and so insignificant. I moved to Los Angeles in 2000 and all I had to see what their sorry excuse for a skyline, but the mountains made up for that. It was 5:50am on September 11, 2001, when I got a phone call. My immediate reaction was someone died in NJ, which explains the early phone call. I'd been jittery for two days, because on September 9 we had an earthquake--it was the first strong one I'd ever felt and I hadn't been able to sleep much. But it wasn't a call to tell me someone died. Or at least not yet. It was my best friend, also from NJ, and living in LA. I put the TV on and saw what, in my sleep deprived head, looked like a thundercloud. I thought, "damn, the building's gonna get hit". And then her words hit me. I immediately hung up and ran to wake my boyfriend, now my husband. "Honey, get up. A 747 hit the World Trade Center!" He told me to get back in bed, that it was probably a Cessna. My hysterical shrieking woke him up and made him realize something was really wrong. We watched, dumbstruck, as the second plane hit. All I could think of was "my daddy works right across the street. My uncle works on the 101st floor. They're both dead." Thank god for Tim, because I'd probably have gone completely insane that day. When the first tower fell, my screaming brought the neighbors, who all knew Tim and I were from very close to NYC. My poor neighbors, Russian immigrants, couldn't understand a word coming out of my mouth. My sister called my from NJ before the second tower fell, saying that no one had heard from my dad, but that my uncle had been transferred to mid-town (incidentally, he was on a business trip during the '93 bombing). We were on the phone as the second tower fell and all she could do was hang up and make my mother call me to calm me down.

I remember thinking, "what the hell on earth is going on?" Being in the middle of LA was not at all comforting. I remember thinking, "This is it-this is world war three. It's over. All these people dead, and for what?" I went to my office, which was full of transplanted New Yorkers and it was as dead as a morgue, all eyes glued to the TV. I should not have gone in. I sat in my office, positively inconsolable. But several rays of hope emerged-my father was indeed okay, waiting until everyone on his floor evacuated before getting himself out. The second tower showered his building with debris and it was eventually demolished. My family survived, several good friends of my mother survived and we are very fortunate. When I left, Tim decided no more TV, because everytime they replayed the towers collapsing, hysterics took over me. We actually went out that night to a Pasadena bar and I looked up at the sky. "This hopefully will be the last time in our lives that we see no planes in the sky". I became a political animal that day. Something wasn't right and I knew it. I didn't fly for nearly 2 years after that day-I skipped my grandmother's funeral because I wouldn't get on a plane to New Jersey. I DROVE to NJ for Thanksgiving, mostly to make sure my uncle, a NYPD Lieutenant, was okay and that my aunt, a nurse in Staten Island, was holding together. They held themselves together for their kids. My uncle retired not long after., after burying 15 friends and picking through debris at the Staten Island landfill, looking for bodies. It took me months to feel even remotely safe away from Tim-I had massive panic attacks at the slightest noise at night, panic attacks if I was away from Tim for too long, panic attacks while driving if a plane going into LAX looked like it might be doing something "weird". I dreamt of nuclear war and of my family, so close to NYC that if a nuke went off, they'd be dead before I knew it. Planes and helicopters drove me to near insanity, until one day, I just woke up.

The fact that politicians and pundits have politicized this national tragedy is appalling. I hope the ghosts of all those dead haunt all of them in their dreams. I have tears in my eyes as I think about that day--the fear, the miserable sorrow. Whatever innocence I had died that day, and I eventually became an incredibly cynical person towards our government and people in power throughout the world who profited from the aftermath.

[FoxOnTheRun]

1. Kick

I was in Germany in a Electronic Shop, it was a weird feeling to see what was happening on many TV's.
All clerks were standing around in disbelief in one crowd.

Bizarre day.

[HamdenRice]

2. I was in lower Manhattan

I went to work extremely early that day, taking the A train right under the WTC at about 7 am. I remember hearing the jet go over my office building so low and loud, and then a BOOM. My first thought was, "did a military jet just do a bombing raid over Manhattan?" Then I thought it was just a coincidence, a low flying plane and maybe a car accident. A secretary came and said a plane hit the WTC. I went down to McDougal Street and watched the north tower burn. I went back to work, turned on the radio and heard about the first plane. Then my sister called me hysterically telling me to get the hell out of Manhattan because a second plane had hit. I also remember going down to the street to look downtown and see the surreal sight of the absence of the towers and this vast, vast cloud of dust and smoke.

I won't go into details, but I eventually had to walk home to Brooklyn. I had to walk toward the site, toward the smell and dust, when most people were walking away from it. I'll never forget walking south on First Avenue, seeing people on the other side of the street covered in white powder, walking north, like a stream of refugees. I walked over the Manhattan Bridge, down Flatbush Avenue, and Eastern Parkway. I stopped at several bars on the way home and all of them were absolutely packed, and everyone was talking about world war three having begun.

[a la izquierda]

3. Thanks for reading...

I haven't thought about 9/11/01 much, but today I just had to spill my guts. I'm happy two people gave it a gander.