September 11, 2001

I'm writing this as the one year anniversary of  9/11/01 approaches.  It's hard to believe that a year has gone by – "9/11" still seems like yesterday and yet the year has been marked by constant changes -  years of daily routines are dimming memories now.  But life goes on – those of us, both near and far, who survived this monumental, earth shattering, life-changing event have are continuing with our lives.  In fact, I feel more than a desire to continue with my nice, normal, safe life, I feel an obligation to do this.

Unfortunately, many people here in NYC are still caught in the grip of the events of 9/11 and haven't been able to move on yet -- especially those who lost someone dear, but also many who owned apartments or businesses in the area which were damaged or even destroyed, those who were so traumatized by witnessing the events at first hand or were among the many innocent bystanders who had to run for their lives when the twin towers of the WTC actually collapsed sending out a massive dust and debris cloud.

Looking back, my own first hand experiences on 9/11 seem surreal – more like a dream than reality.  I will say from the start that I was very lucky.  While I was actually on the scene, I wasn't caught somewhere inside one of the trade center buildings and I left the area before the towers collapsed and was spared that trauma.

The day started off with comforting normalcy.  Things weren't totally routine.  My youngest son Kevin had just started his first year of high school.  His new school is just a couple of blocks from our house, so this was the first year that I no longer had to drive him to school in the morning.  In June we'd finished that 9 year long routine.  My daughter Maura had returned from 2 years in Paris in June and had started a job at Rockefeller University uptown in Manhattan and graduate classes at Hunter.  She had to leave for work earlier than I did since she had to go up near Central Park.   A few months previously my oldest son Brendan had managed to get his small record label company, SpinArt Records to move their offices to Staten Island near our house.  The company had been located in downtown Manhattan.  With his office down the street a few blocks, he could take his time about going to work.  My second son Brian was working in Minneapolis at this time so he was far away from the action.  My sister Patricia was home that day.

My company, the Insurance Services Office (ISO), moved into 7 WTC when the building was built about 11 years ago – we were there for the first bombing in 1993.  I was a widow of about 3 months in Feb. 1993 - with 4 children at home - so that was a bit traumatic, too, but no one in my building was injured.  My oldest son was the only one of my kids who realized how serious that was.  I understood that the terrorists had desired to topple the twin towers of the World Trade Center but I never worried much about it afterward because I believed it couldn't be done and I really didn't believe that they would make another attempt at terrorism that would involve the WTC.

In May 2001 my company moved out of 7WTC into a new building across the Hudson River in Jersey City, NJ.  Our 25 Year Club had its last annual luncheon in the Windows on the World Restaurant on the 106^th floor of Tower 1 that May.  After the move, I continued to commute to work much as I had in the past few years.  I would take the SI Ferry to Manhattan, catch a #1/9 subway at the ferry and get out at the WTC.  Then instead of going into 7WTC, I would go into the WTC north tower and go down several levels to catch a PATH train to NJ which let me out directly across the street from the new ISO building in NJ.

So on the morning of 9/11/01, my commuting routine was partly old, partly new.  I got Kevin off to school, left my house at 8:15, walked to the SI Ferry and caught the 8:30 boat.  Around 8:45 or 8:50 there was a big uproar from the people sitting on the deck outside.  Everyone started getting up and running outside to look at the WTC tower and talking about flames covering several stories.  Word went around that a small commuter plane had crashed into the north tower. 

It sounded like a terrible tragedy.  No one thought it was the first strike of a terrorist attack.  The ferry docked a bit before 9:00 and I continued on my way to the WTC, wondering if I would have any problem getting my subway-to-Path connection to work because of the ongoing tragedy.  I knew there would be emergency services all over the place at the WTC and emergency services wouldn't want people to be in the way.  I wasn't surprised when the subway train went through the WTC station without stopping.  The conductor announced that there had been an explosion so the train would stop at the next stop which was about 5 blocks away.  I got off the train there and came out to the street to try to figure out what I should do. 

When I got off the train at Chambers St and West Broadway, I went outside and walked back toward the towers to see what was happening.  I could see a huge black hole with smoke pouring out and fires raging through several floors high up in the north tower.  It was awful.  I could also see that the south tower had flames and smoke coming from farther down.  I didn't realize that a 2^nd plane had crashed into the other tower while I had been in the subway beneath the towers – not understanding that, I tried to think how one plane could have caused all the damage I could see.  I knew it didn't make sense, but what did make sense was totally inconceivable.

I stood there for about an hour – 3 or 4 blocks away from 7 WTC, the entrance to the subway and the WTC complex.  I couldn't decide what I should do.  It all seemed very unreal, things felt unconnected, nothing seemed to make sense.  People on the street had differing reactions.  At that time no one in my area was hysterical, no one was screaming or crying.  Most of us were horrified and silent.  I could only think about the people on the planes and the people who were innocently at work at their desks, in their offices or wherever, who had been suddenly, brutally, horribly, intentionally murdered.  I watched the huge plume of smoke from the towers as it blew toward the east.  I watched millions of twinkling shards of glass or metal falling slowly toward the street.  There was paper falling all over the place, slowly almost peacefully floating downward; there were big pieces of metal from the outside "skin" of the buildings and the awful realization that there were also people falling.  I prayed. 

Emergency services were in full force, constant sirens screaming and all sorts of emergency vehicles going by.  The area around the trade center was being cordoned off and the crowds of people watching were being pushed back by the police.  Once the crowd panicked and everyone turned and ran, myself among them.  It was almost 10am.  I thought I really had to DO something.  My first choice was to go back home.  But that would mean walking back past the trade center to get back to the SI Ferry and I'd have to go through all that smoke that was drifting across Manhattan.  I couldn't get back on the subway since all trains going downtown had been stopped.  But there were still some subway trains going uptown so I decided I'd better do that.  I hurried back down into the subway and got on a train that had just pulled into the station and went uptown to the Penn Station/ Madison Square Gardens area.  It was a good decision because the first tower collapsed about 5 minutes later and I just missed being caught by the panic and the dust cloud.

Once I was uptown, I started looking for a telephone call to call home and call the office.  No phones were working and if they were, there were already about 20 people lined up waiting for a turn.  I went to Macy's across the street – there were payphones in Macy's which should be less crowded.  I was right but they weren't working either.  People with cell phones were having trouble, too, and many cell phones weren't working.

By 11:00am I went back outside to consider my options again.  By that time, most of the public transportation had been shut down.  Penn Station had been evacuated and shut down.  Offices were closing and sending everyone home.  Mayor Guilliani had started "locking down" Manhattan.  There were literally thousands of people milling around trying to figure out how to get home – to Brooklyn, Queens, Long Island, Connecticut, New Jersey, etc., ON FOOT.  By word of mouth people would get information on how to get where they were going and crowds of people would set off in various directions.  Stores and restaurants were being closed down also, it wasn't possible to go sit somewhere cool and wait the emergency out.  No one knew how bad the emergency was and most people wanted to get home to their families and be sure everyone was accounted for.  And since telephones weren't working, there were a lot of worried people including my own children.

It was hot and sunny as I started my long walk back to the SI Ferry.  I couldn't think of any other way to get home except by the ferry.  Word was that the ferry had been shut down also, but I thought that wouldn't last forever and I'd just wait in the ferry terminal until they started running ferries again.  I still didn't realize that the towers had collapsed.  I did wonder why the smoke was coming from a point much lower than I expected but assumed that the towers themselves were hidden behind the smoke.  People were walking in groups.  Here and there a group would be gathered around someone with a radio.  I stopped here and there to listen but never heard that there were several other planes which were missing and didn't hear about the Pentagon until I finally made it home. 

I walked though Greenwich Village to Canal Street and Chinatown.  It is usually extremely crowded there and packed with tourists.  By the time I got there nearly all the stores were closed down.  People weren't allowed to walk South past Canal Street unless they could prove that they lived in an apartment building in the area or had official standing.  I sat on a sidewalk in the shade and drank a warm can of Pepsi which I had been carrying in my bag.  I heard a little girl who was sitting on the sidewalk nearby with her mother, say, "Look Mommy, she has a Pepsi."  I felt guilty and wondered if I should be sharing my can of soda with them. 

I started on my way again.  I found a policeman who was answering questions for a lot of people and asked him if the SI Ferry was running.  He said no.  I didn't have any alternative so I continued on my way.  I had to walk all the way over to the East side to get around the area that was blocked off.  Everything was covered with dust.  People coming up from the downtown area were all wearing dust masks and I wondered if I should have one, too since I was going into that area.  I wondered where they got them but never saw anyone handing them out.

Around 1:30 in the afternoon I found myself at a pier where lots of people were gathering.  There were boats taking people in various directions.  People who wanted to go to SI were grouped together but there were no boats going that way.  One boat was going to Jersey City and I thought about taking it and going to my office but didn't.  Then word came that a SI Ferry was coming into the SI Ferry terminal and it would take Staten Islanders on its trip back.  The crowd of waiting Staten Islanders all got up and headed off to the ferry terminal which was 3 or 4 blocks away.  Half way there we met a group of people coming from the ferry terminal saying there were no ferries.  About half the crowd I was with turned back but I decided to take my chances at the ferry terminal and went on.  It was a shock to get there and find the terminal all blocked off with huge concrete blocks and barriers with guards all around. 

Again I was lucky because a ferry arrived soon and it was taking passengers.  By 3:00 I was finally on my way home.  There weren't too many people on the boat.  I sat outside and watched the smoke from the fires in the trade center.  A man came by and asked if there was anyone who needed medical attention or help of any kind.  When the boat docked, everyone had to leave from the lowest level where the cars usually exit.  Another shock – as we walked off the boat we faced about 100 emergency medical workers, all gloved and gowned in white and ready to provide emergency treatment to victims of the attack.  Only there were no victims to treat.  Most of the victims could not be recovered in time to be treated.

As I left the ferry terminal on SI and continued on my walk up the hill from there to my house, I continued to be shocked at the changes that had taken place since I left that morning.  At the street level all the roads leading to the ferry terminal were blocked with concrete barriers.  There were police and guards all around.  There had been police and National Guard helicopters following the ferry all the way from Manhattan as well as National Guard boats around us in the water.  I really felt that I was in a war zone and I still didn't even realize that the towers had collapsed.

When I got I just wanted to get inside and sit down with my family.  My oldest son had been home all day holding down the fort – very apt since we live on a street on Fort Hill that held a British fort in pre-American Revolution days.  He had been very worried since no one had heard from me all day.  Brendan, Kevin, my youngest son, and my sister Patricia were there.  We had an emotional reunion and then sat down to watch TV to see what was happening.  It took me awhile to grasp what had happened and was still happening.  My daughter Maura was actually still at work up around 60^th street in Manhattan, her office hadn't closed.  She left there around 5:00 and walked to Brooklyn where she was able to stay with a friend until the next day.  My son Brian was in Minneapolis and managed to get through on the phone later in the afternoon.  At home we were watching TV when my old building, 7 World Trade Center, collapsed.  The building had been completely evacuated but it was still a major blow to see it go down. 

I stayed home the following 2 days and practically did nothing but watch TV.  We weren't able to get very many channels on any TV without cable since the main TV antenna had been on top of one of the WTC towers.  I was very glad I stayed home on Thursday because Staten Island was locked down on that day.  It was reported that a car with suspicious people which was being tailed by the FBI had come over a bridge from NJ to SI and then managed to escape somewhere on SI.  The schools which had been slated to open late at 10:00 were closed, so my son Kevin had to stay home.  I was nervous and stayed inside most of the day. 

The next day I went to work and Kevin went to school -–we started trying to get back to normal.  It wasn't easy, though.  It really took months.  I had to find a new way to commute to my office in NJ.  It's about an hour drive from where I live but I don't like driving.  Over the next couple of weeks I tried different ways of getting to work.  The towers were still burning, the subways in lower Manhattan were half wrecked and closed down.  For blocks around the trade center everything was disaster.  The National Guard was all over the place.  You could hardly get into the lower Manhattan area at all unless it was your home or workplace. 

To get from the ferry to the subway we had to follow a path marked by concrete and wooden barricades.  There were relief stations set up here and there for the emergency workers.  There were portable generators all over the place.  At night there were huge portable spotlights set up all around the area.  Buildings were covered with netting and scaffolding – we weren't sure which buildings were safe.  There was still dust and debris all over.  The National Guard set up camp in Battery Park near the ferry – tents and guard trucks everywhere.  The downtown area where I had been working since I graduated from college in 1967 was hard to recognize. 

Following the path from ferry to subway there would be people holding up poster board signs that said, Thank you for being brave and coming to work in Manhattan.  I would get out of the subway up around 14^th Street and walk past Union Square Park – it was covered with candles, flowers and memorials for people who were lost.  In the first days even the first 2 weeks there was so much hope that people could be found under the debris and rescued.  There were pictures of missing people posted everywhere. It was heartbreaking; cars were left in parking lots by people who commuted to work one morning and never returned; children were left in day care by parents who never came back.  Personally, I only knew about 3 people who were killed.  One lady in my division at work (with a 2 year old and expecting a 2^nd baby) lost her husband. 

Eventually the fires went out after burning and smoldering and smelling for months.  All the remains of the trade center and other buildings surrounding it, all the squashed and ruined cars and fire trucks, were removed – mostly to a dump on Staten Island.  As remains were found and identified funerals were held, many actually at the dump.  Almost 300 people from SI were lost in the trade center so we had funerals for months.  And even today as body parts are being identified by DNA, we are having memorial services and funerals giving families closure at last.

I've finally found a way to get to work by boat.  I take the SI Ferry to Manhattan as I have since I moved to SI in 1971.  Then I walk through Battery Park and take another ferry to Jersey City.  Takes me a bit longer, but it is much more pleasant and less crowded.  During the past year I've walked around the trade center area as much as possible.  I'm still trying to grasp what actually happened – trying to understand the enormity of it all.  I don't think that I ever will really grasp it all.