I do cry, it's still present tense to me and probably will be for a long time.
I called in sick to work that day. I wasn't really sick, I just didn't feel like going in. The phone woke me up, it was Rusty calling from his cellphone. He said he walked out of the subway and looked up to see what everyone was looking at and took this picture:
He just happened to take the camera to work that day for the first time. We stayed on the phone as he walked to the office on Broadway (in the hot zone, just a few blocks from the towers) and when he got there, we hung up. I was alone and didn't know what to do besides watch tv so I did what many people do when they're scared and alone. I called my Mommy.
She said they were speculating about terrorism and I just blew off that comment as outrageous. We stayed on the phone for a while and as I was watching the first tower burn, I saw the explosion in the second tower. I didn't see the plane the first time, but was horrified to see it the second time they replayed it. I kept trying to figure out how it was that two planes could accidentally crash into those two buildings and how the firemen were going to reach the top floors with the fire hoses. When the first tower collapsed, I still couldn't believe what I was seeing. I mean, a TOWER collapsing?! That just doesn't happen. There was so much smoke, you couldn't really see the second tower go. While the dust was settling, I kept looking for the outline of
something. I don't remember when I stopped looking and started believing that all this was really happening.
The phone lines were being assaulted and I got sporadic phone calls from Rusty. Rusty's Mom also worked in Manhattan and there was no answer on her phone either. For the rest of the day, I was routing information between Rusty, his Mom and his Dad to try to get them home. It took them 7 and a half hours, but they both got home safe.
During those hours, the acts of kindness that he witnessed firsthand and I on tv were what I remember most. An old woman falling in the street and a stranger picking her up and bringing her into a store giving away drinks and food for free. A woman helping another dial the pay phone because she was shaking so much, she couldn't hit the right numbers. All the people who gathered in the parks to find solace in the company of strangers. All of them the same--bending and breaking under the spectacular grief, all the same gray color from the soot falling around them.
I still can't hear or see planes flying overhead without worrying. Being on the final approach to the largest airport in NYC, that's tough. I can't see older images of the towers without being sad, and I can't see images of that day without crying. I had friends who worked in the towers and the smaller buildings that made up the WTC that made it out, or through circumstance, weren't in their offices that day. I can't imagine the grief of those left behind, it must be overwhelming.
In addition to the people who lost thier lives that day, NYC lost a friend. Those towers were the friend of everyone who lived here, and the skyline is so empty and small without them. I applaud the people who keep them visible, I don't want to forget no matter how much it hurts.[/i]
