World Trade Center, New York, NY
"Where were you when the world stopped turning on that September day?
Were you in the yard with your wife and children
Or working on some stage in L.A.?
Did you stand there in shock at the sight of that black smoke
Risin' against that blue sky?
Did you shout out in anger, in fear for your neighbor
Or did you just sit down and cry?"
Were you in the yard with your wife and children
Or working on some stage in L.A.?
Did you stand there in shock at the sight of that black smoke
Risin' against that blue sky?
Did you shout out in anger, in fear for your neighbor
Or did you just sit down and cry?"
~Where Were You By Alan Jackson~
On September 11, 2001 I was in New York State.
To be exact when I heard about the first plane,
I was standing in front of Ferdon Hall at Camp Glen Spey.
My father and I had woken early to head up and meet with the ranger.
I remember telling my father how amazing it was out that day.
The sky was so blue and not a cloud to be found.
We had just arrived at camp when the first report came through
The ranger told us as we walked over to talk.
At first my father thought it was a joke.
Country boy trying to pull a fast one on us.
Then his wife said over the radio
"Another plane hit the second tower"
I can honestly say my heart stopped.
I at this time had already been working in aviation.
I knew the flight paths around New York City.
I knew that I had friends flying around covering the first crash.
Then as we prepared to get to work when the unthinkable happened.
The first tower collapsed.
Our long day of helping fix things around the camp,
Turned into a long quiet ride home.
And as we came over the hill on Route 3 in Clifton,
The first signs that life had changed appeared.
Thick black smoke could be seen in the distance to the south.
And as we approached Rutherford the highway grew to a stop.
Fire trucks raced past us filled with volunteer's wanting to go help.
People crying in their cars as the reality hit.
When we arrived home a creepy silenced filled the air.
You never realize how much air traffic is over head until it's gone.
It was gone for a few days and I welcomed it when it returned.
And during all this our country pulled together.
We didn't let it destroy us,
We morn for those who were lost,
And celebrated those who survived.
Today we remember that day,
But we don't let that day control us.
We are stronger then the attacks!
I was in college, a Chemistry major at Yeshiva College, on the main campus of Yeshiva University. I was also an R.A. for the 6th floor of Rubin Hall, one of the four dorms on campus. The Campus was centered around Amsterdam Avenue, from 183rd to 187th street in upper Manhattan, in the Washington Heights Neighborhood. I was in the library writing an article for the student news paper about a bowling event run as part orientation activities which I had attended, only because I was an R.A. I left the library to get to my first class, and local person from Washington Heights was telling a fellow student that the smoke was from a plane hitting the World Trade Center. I actually said to the guy, "You know today isn't April 1st, right?" He responded by grabbing me by the shoulders, and turning me to look South. There it was, on the amazingly clearly September morning, the smoke billowing from the tower. I ran! I ran across the street and into my dorm. I ran up 6 flights of stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. My roommate, my best friend since pre-school, a man who I had gone to school with, and camp, and almost everything else with, for my entire life, his father worked in the World Trade Center. My roommate was normally eating breakfast in our room listening to the news at that hour. He was not there! I ran back down those stairs, and found in alone, in the lounge, with the big screen on CNN. He said he had called home, his mom told him his dad was running late for work. He told his mom to tell his dad not to rush, he's not going, and to turn on the news. Together, the two of us, alone in the TV lounge, we watched the second plane hit live. Another guy on my floor, his older brother worked in the same office as my roommate's dad. The brother was lucky. He was on the first subway train that skipped the World Trade Center stop. On September 12th, I escorted an out of town student, from another dorm to the E.R. in Columbia Presbyterian Hospital. The kid had been coughing up blood. Policy was for an R.A. to go with any student who needed to go to a hospital, and I was in the student housing office at the time. I had never seen this kid before, and barely saw him since, but we shared one of the worst life experiences ever! While sitting in the waiting room, two people walked in together. It was clear they had not slept for a day. They looked more like they hadn't slept in months. They had a picture with them. They asked everyone, us in the waiting room, the nurses, the doctors, the janitors, the security guards, everyone, if anyone had seen the person in the picture. No one had. The hospital we were in was about 9 miles North of the World Trade Center. There are dozens of hospitals between the two points. These people had clearly been to each one. I often find myself thinking, wondering, hoping they did find him alive. However, I feel in my heart, they probably did not. I still cry sometimes from it.
ReplyDeleteI was suppose to be at the trade center that day. I had a friend in the city who did photograph and we were going to meet up to do some practice shots around the city. We were going to meet that morning but my dad needed my help so I told him we'd meet later that day. I never heard from him after that. His phone just rang and rang.
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