Your Sept. 11 Stories

By The WBUR Newsroom
Sep 4, 2011, 11:59 PM
24 Comments

New York City firefighters on Cortlandt Street (AP)

As we mark the 10th anniversary of Sept. 11, each one of us has a personal story of that tragic day.

We invite you to take a moment and share your story in the comments section.

Please submit photos to WBUR’s Remembering 9/11 photo pool on Flickr.com or through the “Assignments” button on the WBUR iPhone app.

Please follow our community rules when engaging in comment discussion on wbur.org.

Pascal

10 years ago, I was right next to the WTC. Heard the first plane and saw the fire and then heard and saw the second plane hit the WTC. I remember reading “United Airlines” just before the plane hit the building. I knew then something tragic was happening. I never looked back at the tower as I was afraid something would fall on my head. This experience and day changed my life. I used to work on Wall Street, had a nice job but then started to volunteer as an EMT and then decided to quit my job and go back to medical school at 42. I am doing my residency in Boston now.
ikonoklast44

I worked as a temp at the Federal Reserve on the second floor where we had a clear view of Logan Airport across Boston Harbor. The day of the attack the upper floors were evacuated but I guess they believed the lower floors were safe and our department worked the rest of the day. In the days that followed, I remember looking out the window at Logan Airport seeing the entire area packed so thick with passenger jet aircraft that had been grounded as a result of the attacks, that I thought one of the planes might be pushed offf into the harbor.
Hillarion

That morning, I turned on my clock-radio to listen to NPR’s Morning Edition, and heard that a plane had hit one of the WTC towers. I rarely watched TV, but this was far too significant not to have a look. Dressed a bit and went into my main room, and there it was. Shortly afterward, I was talking with my lady friend on the phone; iirc, she called me. We were watching, almost mesmerized and horrified; then, the other tower got hit. We had no idea how many other buildings or places might be attacked; needless to say, it was frightening. The first collapse only added to our sense of alarm, but neither of us panicked. We must have discussed the event, but I don’t recall any specifics. After a while, we began our days’ activities.

The sense of fear carried over to the next day, and iirc the day after that. I took the #70 bus to Cambridge probably on the 13th or 14th; along the route, just east of Watertown Square, you can see the Prudential Building, and I remember praying that it should never be attacked.

Shortly after that, I was almost sure that there were no more attacks in the offing, and chose not to be afraid. Some would say that is being fanatically anti-American — after all, one is supposed to be perpetually afraid of “terr’ists”; otherwise, one is not patriotic.

I do something else that is regarded as highly unpatriotic by too many Americans — I think for myself sometimes. It didn’t take long for me to realize that the likelihood of my being personally harmed in a “terr’ist” event is much less than being struck by lightning; that helped me lose my sense of fear.

When W. finally spoke, my recollection is that I felt profound disgust with his attitude, but I’m exhausted as I type, and don’t recall details.

Jerry Pournelle said sometime around 1985, maybe earlier, regarding terrorist attacks, that the main harm is not what they do to us, it’s what they make us do to ourselves; the latter is by far the greater harm.

Indeed, we have done a great deal of harm to ourselves and others, especially Iraqi civilians. Best estimates are that at least a million died in the war, a war that was utterly unnecessary. Of course, Saddam was a horror show…

Since 9/11, we have morphed into a country (make that an empire* — read Chalmers Johnson) more akin to types of governments and societies we clam to despise. There’s a document online, The 14 Characteristics of Fascism; it’s sobering reading, especially when you realize how many of those 14 apply. The saving grace is that our society has relatively few fascist incidents, but, we are no longer a representative democracy. Various terms apply, such as oligarchy, kleptocracy, and plutocracy — even a feudal state. 9/11, of course, was not primarily responsible for our departure from our ideals, but what we did to ourselves was surely not helped by its events. *We’ve been an empire for at least a century.

The term “homeland” in “homeland security” simply stinks — it reeks of Nazi terminology, and I think it’s a disgrace. I’m 75 years old, and can well remember how utterly horrid the Nazis were.
You need to have lived through that era to truly know how awful it was.

Regarding conspiracy theories — I’m not convinced, either way, but afaik the test fire created by NIST to simulate the conditions in the WTC towers didn’t get anywhere near to being hot enough to weaken structural steel; iirc, that is part of the official report on the WTC twin tower collapses. I’m open to explanation, but from trustworthy sources.

The collapse of WTC Building 7 (“Building WHAT?” said the judge) was remarkable in that the upper part of the building remained level as it collapsed. From my standpoint of an “amateur structural engineer”, that lack of tilt seems exceptionally improbable if the collapse was caused by overheated structural steel.

Essentially all people would agree that if the events of 9/11 were actually intentional on the part of our own government, and that become public knowledge (Wikileaks, anyone?) the political consequences would be utterly catastrophic.

There was a recent article warning against getting excessively involved with the events of a decade ago; we could become derailed; it would not be good.
WBUR

WBUR listener Larissa Fawkner sent us her 9/11 story:

I lived in Long Island City, Queens, a neighborhood directly across the east
river from the United Nations. I was working in Times
Square as a contract marketing project manager at the Nasdaq
MarketSite.

My boyfriend at the time was a NY basketball aficionado and the televised Knicks
game that we’d watched the night before had ended a bit past my bedtime. I was
running late to work the next morning so I jumped in my car knowing that if I
drove in over the 59th street
bridge rather than take the subway I could cut time off my commute and get to
work by 9am.

As I drove down my block of 47th
Ave in and onto Vernon Boulevard, I nearly ran over a
woman who was standing in the middle of the street in pajamas, a bathrobe, and
pink slippers. She was gazing across the river and downtown. I was late and she
was in my way so I swung my car around her while simultaneously sighing and
trying to tamp down my aggravation with the bizarre daily interactions that new york city presented.

That morning was sunny, unseasonably warm and the air conditioning in my beat
up Saab was again on the fritz. I had all of my windows down when I pulled up
to the stop sign on the next block. A man put his hands on my car door and
leaned in and said, “Have you seen it, the towers are burning”.
My head raced, I quickly put his comment and the pink slipper woman into the
same contextual space and I instantly understood that something was horribly
wrong. I sped around the block and pulled up onto the sidewalk in front of my
apartment building and ran inside and called my mother who lives on the Cape. I told her, “Something is terribly wrong, I
don’t know what but I want you to know that I’m ok”. I made that same call
one minute later to a friend in Boston.
Soon after my call home cel phone connectivity would be gone and new yorkers
would be cut off from the outside world.

I grabbed a pair of binoculars and climbed a steel ladder to the roof of my
three story apartment building. From Long Island
City, I had a majestic and
unobstructed view of the Manhattan
cityscape. It was my favorite my place in all of New York but not that morning. Looking
downtown, I saw smoke gushing from the side of one of the towers. I didn’t know
what tower, or why it was burning, or what had happened. At some point while I
was on the roof, fighter jets (deployed from Hanscom) flew over my head and I
thought it was an air attack. I didn’t know the jets were ours. How could I
know? Confused and frightened, I went back down to my apartment to tune in to
local radio stations. It was audio chaos. Planes, terrorists…burning towers.
Every station was chaos.

I jumped on my bike and rode south along the east river through the waterfront
neighborhoods of Brooklyn. The smell of
burning plastic filled my nostrils as I rode. When I got to the ramp of the Brooklyn Bridge
I saw 1000′s of people streaming across from lower Manhattan. They were wet with sweat, crying,
carrying their shoes, and people at the base of the bridge were reaching out
and handing them water and hugging them. Later, I’d have nightmares that the
people I saw would get confused as they walked over the bridge and they’d get
turned around and walk back into the fires. I don’t know where I was in Brooklyn when the buildings actually came down. I’ve
since let go of the minute by minute timeline of that day.

All night long sirens wailed and fire trucks raced downtown. Hospitals called
in all of their trauma nurses and doctors to deal with the 1000′s of
anticipated survivors. As the hours ticked by there would be fewer than
expected in the emergency rooms.

The cel tower on the world trade tower was down and other towers were
overloaded which made contact with the outside world for the rest of the week
spotty. One call that did make it through was from Kelly Services Financial;
the temp agency that had placed me at Nasdaq 10 months earlier. They made one
call to confirm that I was alive and another call to tell me that Nasdaq would
no longer require my marketing services. My projects at Nasdaq revolved around
bringing tourist groups into the MarketSite to learn about the electronic
stockmarket. The site closed that day to install better security. That morning,
I became unemployed as a result of the 9/11 attacks.

For the rest of the week the city was on lock down so we were all trapped in
our boros to share the collective despair. On every corner in the city was a
shrine with a photo of a missing loved one. A janitor, a secretary, a clerk…
There were thousands of missing loved ones.

Later that week, I went into the city and was twice evacuated off the
subway due to multiple bomb threats. It was frantic and police officers looked
stunned and scared. Nerves were shattered. The city was extremely tense, but it
also became a gentler place where people who hurt bonded with each other in a
collective deep sorrow. A hush took over the city.

Months later, emotions would explode and I would break up a fight on my block
between a firefighter and a sihk cab driver. Fear and anger and distrust would
take the place of the quiet hush. Like many new york city residents impacted by 9/11, I
shared communal post traumatic stress and would look up to trace the flight
path of every plane as it flew overhead. I did that for 6 years afterwards.

Ten years have passed, I haven’t watched any of the footage of that day. I
watched one tv program of that day to try to understand the engineering of the
building and how the structure crumbled like it did.

At a dinner in Boston
later in 2001, a friend of friend told me that I had no right talking about
9/11 because I hadn’t been hit with debris from the falling buildings (she
had). We’ve all been impacted by 9/11. Every aspect of our lives has changed.
Every priority in my life has been quietly impacted by that day and my values
have been forever altered.
Guest

I was living in Virginia at the time and had just flown out the day before to head to Tampa for work. A few of us had traveled in from New York and Virginia. The morning of the 11th, we are standing in the hotel lobby watching the news when the first tower was hit. We thought it was a plane crash and then as we watched, we saw the second plane hit. I remember just standing there in shock. I immediately called my boyfriend who was stationed out of Oceania Naval Base and they were on lockdown. One of our co-workers’ wife worked in the WTC, 81st floor who had quit her job the week prior. I found out my brother was at the WTC the day before. Because of the ban on air travel we had to drive back to Virginia. That day will forever live in my memories, for all those lost, for all our heroes, for our troops trying to keep us safe at home.
Brett in Brookline

Ten years ago, I was a 26 year-old living in New York, and
working at the World Financial Center, which was located across the street from
the towers. That morning, I emerged from the City Hall subway station on a
sunny September day to see a gaping black hole in the north tower out of which
poured heaping waves of thick black smoke. Standing at the southern tip of City
Hall Park, I instinctively decided to call my mom in Philadelphia.

“I’m OK, “I said, “but something bad has happened to the
World Trade Center.”

Still gazing upward, I quickly said goodbye and proceeded to
walk west on Barclay Street toward my building.�
The streets were filled with commuters confused by the site of the large
burning hole. No one on the street seemed
to be sure what exactly had happened.

“I think a plane
hit the World Trade Center,” said one passerby.

Just one block north of the towers people gathered in the streets
staring upwards in amazement. From behind the US Post Office, I watched as men
and women gathered at the intersection of West Broadway and Barclay pointing to
the sky and shielding their eyes from the morning sun. I remember hearing a crescendo
of screams followed by a shattering crash. At the time, I didn’t know the
reason for these terrified cries. I
found out later, and was thankful to have not witnessed it.

Then came the sound of a loud “SHUSH,” as if God was
attempting to silence the city, followed by a deafening explosion. Within
seconds, sizzling chunks of twisted metal fell around me, some the size of vending
machines. I was in the path of the debris from the building and plane spewed
northward after the second plane it the south tower. I ran
for my life.

I ran north as hard and for as long as I could. Stopping to take a breadth, I became aware of
the screeching sirens of fire engines and other emergency vehicles rushing in
the direction from which I had come. The
thought momentarily occurred to me to follow them, but just as quickly I reconsidered.
There was nothing I could do.

The best thing was to keep myself safe and out of the way.
So I walked home to 82nd street, grabbed a few items from my
apartment, went to the middle of Central Park and waited.
Ann Marie

I have several very specific memories of that day:
1) sitting near a window with my co-workers in our Boston office building, attempting to get radio signals and information, as all internet news sites were locked up. We were also watching all planes headed for Logan VERY carefully
2) being on the phone with my sister while IM’ing her daughter in DC, to ensure she was safe.
3) getting an e-mail from another sister asking for good thougths for a friend who worked in the Pentagon
2) walking across Boston to take the T home – the city was empty. I think I passed 4 people between the Back Bay and South Station
3) sitting on an almost-empty Red Line train, looking at the political fliers on the floor, thinking how very unimportant that election had become

10 years on it still feels fresh, as does the pain.
Ginger

I dreamt about it in vivid detail on 9/10. About 20 EXACT details. I woke up crying that morning and told my friend, at length, about the awful dream. The next morning he called and said “Get up, turn on your TV. That dream you had yesterday is happening!!” Also, I am a Flight Attendant. I have always been glad (wrong word, maybe) that I told at least one person about the premonition before the actual event.
http://twitter.com/RicherEarth Eric McNulty

I was due to fly on American flight 11 on 9/11 but moved the date because of the Jewish holidays — a mitzvah for a goyem like me. I was on AA 11 on 9/10 instead.

I was awakened by a call just just at around 6:30 Pacific Time. My wife just said “Turn on the TV. Turn on the TV.” I had two colleagues and a client all flying out of NY that morning. The next few hours were both tense and dreamlike as so little was known.

I was fortunate to have a rental car. My colleague and I kept it and began a drive back across the country on 9/12. It was my first time seeing Utah, Colorado, Iowa — I was struck over and over again at the beauty of this country. I was also greatly comforted by the voices of NPR: they were familiar, almost like family, and it made it easier to handle the ambiguity of the unfolding situation.

I now work extensively with leaders in disaster preparedness and response. I am continually impressed with their dedication, resolve, and resourcefulness.
Sgolden1

Listening to your program this morning about the Lecky (sp?) school and the teacher and student killed in the crash at the Pentagon, I found myself sobbing about 9/11 for the first time. It surprised me. And it felt good to finally release such deep heartfelt emotion in response to this terrible event. The tears were clearly for these two unlucky victims, but also for so many who have died in Iraq and Afghanistan as well as the pitiable state of our economy and well-being as a nation – all downstream effects of the attack and choices we have made out of fear, meeting insanity with insanity It has cost so many so much.
Elizabeth

I’d flown to DC from Boston the previous day for a meeting of academic health centers. We were in a briefing that morning, hearing from the Ass’t Secy for Health at HHS. He was wearing at least 3 phones on his belt, but I remember thinking afterwards that none went off to inform him of the disaster. But there were TV cameras outside the meeting room so a few colleagues were watching the morning news. Our colleague from one of the NYC teaching hospitals got a phone call, then someone from another NY hospital. When they returned to the room after taking their calls, they were ashen faced as they gathered up their things and hurried out. The news spread, and more of us went to watch the news, but the speaker continued on. Finally, a staff person for the national association went to the podium, interrupted the speech, and said, “planes have hit both the North and South towers of the World Trade Center in NY. There’s an indication at least one more may be headed toward DC. I think it’s safe to say, we’re at war.” (Much later he was to receive much teasing as being the first in the US to declare war, and without even knowing the enemy.) We were told to leave the federal building in which we were meeting. As we came off the escalator to the 1st floor, we were met by soldiers in full battle dress, carrying machine guns – this was the first time I became truly afraid. I joined hundreds of others on Pennsylvania Ave – just two blocks from the White House, where we heard some explosions that were later learned to be a car backfiring, but the sounds were scary. I met up with a colleague from Boston and we discussed what to do next. Fortunately she knew people at a nearby law firm, and although the building was locked down they let us in. One of the partners soon dropped me off at friends’ house in NW Washington because I knew getting back to Boston that day would be impossible. Driving through Washington was unbelievable: fully armed soldiers on every corner, staring into passing cars to make sure they didn’t appear to be harboring terrorists. I was so fortunate to have good friends to be with during that horrible time. I let my husband and family know I was OK, and two days later took the train – a local so it was a very long ride – back to Boston. When an EMS crew from Delaware boarded – on their way to help out the search and rescue effort in NYC, everybody wanted to give them seats, food, and hugs. It seems like a long time ago and yet not long at all.
Jsug

I have many memories about September 11th, but a great deal of my stories from that time are about September 12th. I lived in Union Square in New York at the time, and the city felt so strange because it was so quiet without the buses, taxis, traffic lights, it was changed place. All of the movies were free on September 12th, to give people something to do besides feel scared. My friends and I went to the UA in Union Square and the only movie with tickets available was Jeepers Creepers 2. I remember as we sat in the theater watching, possibly the worst horror movie of all times, feeling lucky, and relieved, just to have 90 minutes of sound and light in the quiet and dark city.
Elizabeth Nilson

THis is an email I sent to my family on Sept 12th. I was living in NYC with my cousin, and working at a community hospital in lower Manhattan, about 1/4 mile from the WTC. My dad read it aloud on a cape radio station. I tracked it down because I remain forever haunted from being in lower Manhattan that day, and felt a real need to remember that day in a personal way. I now live in Carlisle, MA, and it has been an interesting perspective on the day given that so many on the planes were from around here.A Doctor’s Account From The World Trade Center
Listen NowOn September 12, Jeff and Marietta Nilson of Harwich, MA received an email from their daughter Elizabeth, a doctor on duty near the World Trade Center during the disaster. In her letter, Elizabeth relays her firsthand accounts and personal reactions to the events and their aftermath. Jeff shared his daughter’s words on our listener line.As I sit in my office this morning I am watching the sun come up over a
very different view outside.There is ash everywhere – my office is filled with a fine layer of soot.
The smell of charred material persists in the air.Our ride down from East 15th street was quiet. We were stopped numerous
times by state police and the military. “Doctors” was the call and they
let us through. Sadly, that is not what is needed down here. It looks
like it has snowed. Above the hospital there is a crescent moon with a
small planet or star just below – the symbol on an Islamic nation flag
if I remember. Where two imposing towers stood there is only faint blue
sky and smoke.We sat in our first grand rounds lecture and ten minutes into hearing
about mammography several loud booms echoed. We all ran to the windows
and saw smoke from the tower. “A plane hit it” someone yelled and we
thought for a moment of an errant small craft that must have been only
able to nick the tower. Then someone said jet and we ran to the ER. As
we arrived and tried to get organized it quickly became clear what had
happened. Many of the patients we saw had superficial and not so
superficial lacerations. One patient was burned over her entire body.
Another man lay with his brains leaking out. Some significant
fractures. Then the tower went down and the air filled quickly with a
thick smoke that covered everything. We donned masks and kept at it.
Then many more came in covered in inches of ash, and more injuries.
Some nearly catatonic patients – shocked because of what they saw,
shocked by nears misses of themselves or loved ones, shocked from being
trampled. We were all in high gear, everyone working hard and fast and
smoothly and calmly. Only during the pause of elevator rides would eyes
well up – only to be gone a moment later as the doors opened. And then
it all slowed down. And we waited and few others came. We caught up
and continued to wait. We began to hear the horror stories – of people
jumping 100 stories away from the smoke. A firefighter killed when a
body landed on him. Shoes and body parts and flames and smoke. Frantic
efforts at calls. Frantic emails to loved ones. People stunned into
silence. And the image of innocent children in the Middle East jumping
for joy. And shock. Called to say we could take more patients. There
were none.We planned shifts and continued to wait. Nothing to do but sit in our
now ash-covered clothes and watch TV. At about seven, Warren, Bruce and
I walked over. We could not get further than Broadway, about a block
away. Smoke and ash continued to fill the air, burn lungs despite two
masks and sear your eyeballs. The triage center there was filled with
EMS workers, gurneys and supplies. But no patients. The entrance to
the lobby of I think an insurance company was framed by cars covered in
ash, deformed. Trees were gnarled. Paper was everywhere. We picked up
someone’s tax return. Windows a block away were blown out. Someone had
written in the ash “USA #1″ And something about peace and John 3:16
(the Christian among you will have to let us know what the allusion was
to). They wouldn’t let us closer. Through the smoke we could faintly
see 40 feet of steel in what used to be a courtyard.We walked back through dark streets (7 WTC collapsing had been a
diminutive echo of earlier events, but left us without electricity and on
the generator).As we left, faint hope rose with word that the triage center had sent
for surgeons, cutdown trays, and amputation kits from the hospital. Our
ride home up the FDR was quiet.I burst into tears walking down my corridor, seeing my apartment door.
Then I hugged Jen.The TV echoed all the same stories. A few new tragedies. An arrest of
a van on its way to the GW Bridge. Talk of explosives. Went to sleep
with a profound sense of uncertainty.My alarm is set the NPR station downtown. No signal because the radio
tower was atop one of the towers. Only static awoke me.When I turned on the TV at 5:30, more loss. I again burst into tears.And we headed down at 6AM, through soldiers sleeping under fatigue
blankets in the doorways of shops. The sun was starting to rise on a
deep blue sky. It was quiet, still. Downtown looked like a movie set.
Large lights were being taken away on flatbed trucks. There is word
that the Millennium Hotel continues to burn and will collapse.In the hospital life and death go on. The first patient through the door
was a 94 year old woman found unresponsive by her home health aide. She
had suffered a large bleed and herniated. As I wrote her admission
note, about the gravity of her condition, it seemed surreal. She died
last evening. We were still trying to reach her family.This morning a code. A man with COPD.I am going to walk over now – for want of anything else.I love you all. Remember what is important to you. Really important.LiAbout Elizabeth Nilson
Doctor Elizabeth Nilson is34 years old, grew up in Harwich on Cape Cod and is named after hergrandmother who was a registered nurse. She works at Beekman, thedowntown NYC hospital.
Dan

This is going to sound insensitive to some but please hear me out.

My 9/11/2011 story is that I don’t think this is an anniversary to commemorate. Ten years, such a tidy arbitrary time to bring this up again.

A widower on MSNBC was asked if this was a special time for reflection for him and he said that it was painful because of what the media is doing with it – the wall-to-wall coverage, the replaying of the images, etc were of no use to him.

And the trotting out of all the grieving widows – well, they are all American widows and I don’t feel like we are getting a useful balance to the story.

In a knee-jerk reaction to 9/11, we invaded Iraq. Some estimates put the civilian casualties at 100,000 (our civilian casualties: 3000) and in a country with few support services, inadequate health care, what have we done?

I would be pleased if you could interview an Iraqi psychotherapist who is helping the widows, orphans, and childless grieve in Baghdad. I doubt such a person exists.

So when we reflect on 9/11, let’s reflect on the whole story – what was done to us and what we then did to others.
Christine Bogoian

I had taken the day off of work because I was campaigning against water fluoridation in Worcester at a meeting a Mount Carmel Church. Fire fighters were also there to protest department cuts.We were outside and I was soaking in the special beauty of the day. I noticed that the fire fighters were suddenly gone. One of my friends came up to me and told me that planes had hit the towers and that people were jumping out. I immediately knew that American life would change from then on. A local politician was there . I told him the news and said that our lives would never be the same. He commented that that was an hysterical over reaction typical of anti- fluoride activists. I went into the church and prayed for the people in the towers.
jen K

I had two appointments that day. The first was in the Longwood Medical Area for a job interview then I planned to meet with family for lunch at the Officers’ Club at Hanscom Air Force Base. I was intercepted by a former patient-” Planes are crashing into buildings! We are being attacked!” I patted his hand and said he should go home( to his Dept. Of Mental Health group home) to rest. This wasn’t the first time he told me terrorists or vague enemies were attacking so my only concern was if he was taking his antipsychotics. My husband called moments later with a similar report. I walked outside. Longwood Ave was silent. The sky was empty of the planes and helicopters. I never made it to lunch that day- I went to apologize .
I doubt I could have made it onto the base . I wondered if my family members were at Hanscom or on their way to New York.
Kelloggflake

I lived in Idaho and was sitting in a chair nursing my 5 week old daughter when I heard the news of the first plane on the radio. I remember tuning it out until they announced the second plane hitting. I was full awake then with a sick anxious feeling in my gut wondering what was going on. My husband was getting ready for work and said it sounded like a terrorist hit to him but not to “freak out” and we were safe. Later that day my daughter started to run a high fever of over 103 and I remember getting so angry at the nurse because she kept telling me it was Ok and everything was fine. I stayed in front of the T.V. caring for my daughter trying everything I could think of to keep her fever down. The early next day we ended up admitting her to the hospital and learning that several test that they needed could not perform because they had to be sent to California and the planes were all still grounded. I was the only parent there around the clock with an infant so I let the nurses come in our room to watch the news when they had a break. I spent the next 5 days in the hospital with her as they pumped various anti-biotics and anti-viral drugs into her. She’s happy and healthy today. She’s in 5th grade and plays Jr. tackle football. I on the other hand probably watched the news too much because I started having panic attacks any time I thought about getting on a plane for a trip. It took me several years but I can fly if I’m pumped full of drugs for the flight. I think in relation to what others have endured it is a small price to pay.
JL

I had just moved to Princeton NJ from Florida with my husband and 3 sons. I was at work in Princeton at a law firm. One of my sons was home sick and called to tell me a plane hit the WTC. We thought it was a commuter plane. Then he called back and said another plane hit and they were big planes. We all gathered into the conference room to watch the news. Then we heard of the Pentagon. We were told to go home. On my drive home, I could see the smoke from the towers. I broke down and cried the rest of the way home. I just wanted to see my sons. Most everyone I worked with had family members that were in the WTC. I heard such sad stories that week. I drove my son (who was in high school) back down to Florida. On the drive down we passed the Pentagon and saw the damage. It was surreal.
atn

It was my 3 year old’s first day of preschool. My 1 year old could barely walk. Both kids loved to be sung to sleep, my voice quiet and a little off key. Later that week, between Tender Shepherd and Hush little baby don’t you cry, I started singing , softly, the Star Spangled Banner. My youngest would later call it Danner. “Sing Danner mommy,” he’d say. it becoming a favorite. I wonder if he sensed the comfort it brought me, as I attempted to settle my children with images of planes crashing into burning buildings still vivid in my mind. Prior to 9/11 I never thought that the national anthem could have been a lullaby, but it was, most definitely, for me and my kids, starting that week, and for quite some time after.
Tallg2425

I was in my 11th grade Advanced Math class when the principal/superintendent annouced that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center in NY. I admittedly did not know what the World Trade Center was. I knew the WTC as the “twin towers.” I just imagined a small jet that crashed into a short, globe-shaped building. And then I heard other students crying and screaming in the hallway. Their family members had gone to NYC for business trips. Some had family in the military and were anticipating that their loved ones would be going to war soon. The tragedy of 9/11 didn’t really sink in until I watched what happened on TV after I arrived back home that day. I just couldn’t believe what had happened. My school housemaster’s parents were on United Flight 93 that crashed in Shanksville, PA. She was out the rest of the year.

Tallg2425

I am a Boston native and when I heard that planes originated from Logan, it terrified me.

Alicia Quintano

I discovered I was not alone in this reaction: a Native Manhattanite, my family still there on that day, for a week afterwards I awoke screaming from nightmares though I live in Massachusetts. When I spoke to someone else from New York City who lives here she said she too, had awakened from terrible nightmares for days afterwards. Our hometown had been attacked. I wished I had been there to help.
t.d.

I worked near the WTC at the time, and witnessed so many of the iconic images we all know: the tower falling, the pieces of still standing tower silhouetted against the sky. But the memories I want to share are the ones we may forget, the surreal feeling that the ordinary could in a second be forever changed. I remember the feeling of walking on the dust covered streets and
watching the dust rise up around my new, black leather shoes as I took
each step. When I had put them on that crisp fall morning I had expected such an ordinary day, and now I was walking through ash.. I remember walking by the local Burger King after Sept. 11th and seeing the spay painted sign: first aid center. And looking in the windows of closed shops and seeing the merchandise covered in thick dust, long after the streets had been cleared. I remember battery park filled with tents and trucks from the national guard, and armed soldiers everywhere. We used to eat lunch in that park, it was so unreal.
Lauren BAMA

My mother was taking my sister and me to a dentist apt. that day. While she was getting ready she said she saw the news and broke down crying. My dad said as he was climbing up to his work area (NASA) he was thinking of how beautiful a day it was and pictured sitting in rocking chairs on the front porch of a cabin in the Smokies. He had a meeting and when they heard the news, they cut the tv on and watched. he said it was so quiet bc everyone was in such shock. His work was ordered to go home bc they could be at risk for being hit since they were in such a popular place. I also remeber going to my nanas house and we got on the computer rewatching the news. I remember seeing people jump from buildings. of course i was too young to understand but it did upset me seeing people doing that.