It was such a beautiful day...
That is the way so many remembrances start when describing September 11, 2001. And the reason is because it was so true. It was a glorious, gorgeous day - until people started dying.
That morning I was in the shower (earlier than usual, for some reason) listening to 1010 WINS, the local all-news station, when I heard them announce "BREAKING NEWS NOW!". The announcer, in a VERY startled tone, said a plane had hit the World Trade Center. I don't know if it was his tone or what, but I gasped and backed up against the wall of the shower. I had NO IDEA of any details (it could have been a little plane for all I knew), but I had a HORRIBLE feeling, and started to cry. To this day I can't explain my reaction to such a little bit of information, but it was almost like I could tell this was only the beginning.
When I got out of the shower, I turned on the TV, and tried to call my roommate. He was (and still is) a flight attendant with United Airlines, and was on a trip, so I wanted to make sure he didn't have any connection to this. He picked up the phone - he was on a layover in Chicago, thank God - and was asking me questions like - "was it a big plane, little plane, or what?". I had NO idea, and based on the pictures I couldn't tell. It was hard to get a good perspective when they were just showing a smoking hole in the building on TV.
Much later we learned that United flight 93 had gone down in Pennsylvania. My roommate had worked that flight many times, and knew one of the flight attendants who died. They held her memorial service at a church a few blocks away from our apartment, which he went to with some of his co-workers.
After speaking to my roommate, I called my coworker and good friend Dory. As we talked on the phone and watched the news together, the other plane hit. I remember saying it was definitely an act of terrorism. Meanwhile, we were still discussing getting to our job at the restaurant, which is located downtown in Greenwich Village. She hung up the phone because she had to get going. We knew our bosses would be mad if we didn't come in.
I continued to watch the news, and it suddenly dawned on me that Dory and I should NOT be heading downtown (toward the WTC) to work - we should be staying home. I still didn't have a grasp on the fact that there were actual people dying in those buildings - it seemed so abstract - but something told me it would NOT be smart to go TOWARD the emergency. I tried to call Dory back, but she had already left.
I decided I would go downstairs and try to catch a cab or bus (they had already shut down the subway). I thought if Dory got to work, and I didn't, our bosses would really be pissed at me (especially considering she lived farther away). I walked out of my building and onto 9th Avenue and got a cab immediately. At one point, while stopped at an intersection, someone in the back of a cab beside me said through our open windows - "they just hit the Pentagon and the Sears Tower in Chicago!!". News that day was all over the place - and unconfirmed reports were announced constantly.
While driving downtown I could see smoke, but at one point 9th Avenue makes a little curve left, and I was faced with a FULL VIEW of the smoking buildings. I remember gasping - all of a sudden it was REAL and right in front of me. The traffic started getting really congested - so I decided to walk the rest of the way.
People were all over the streets, just watching the burning buildings. I was walking down one of the side streets in the Village toward my restaurant when I heard everyone scream. The first building had just collapsed, although from where I was I couldn't hear or see anything other than the people around me screaming.
By the time I got to my restaurant on 7th Avenue, which had a perfect view of the World Trade Center, all I could see was a TON of smoke, and ONE smoking tower. It was unreal. Hundreds of people were walking uptown - it looked like an army of office workers walking calmly away from the site.
Even though the restaurant was closed, some random people came in through our side door - asking to use the restroom or phone, and ended up staying to watch the news. Dory finally made it in - she was on a subway train when they shut down the system and had to walk from 34th Street. By the time she had got in, both buildings were gone.
I tried to call my family in Pennsylvania and couldn't get through. I finally got through to my friend Carl's 800 number at his job. He was in the break room watching the news, but I explained to his coworker who I was, and that I was in New York City, and would she please tell Carl to call my family and let them know I was OK? She was SO helpful and concerned - just like any good Central Pennsylvania resident would be. Carl was able to let my parents know I was OK. Apparently his coworkers went RUNNING around the office looking for him to give him the message.
It soon became obvious that the restaurant wasn't opening that day. So Dory and I started walking uptown with everyone else (our boss had come in and taken all the money out of the safe in case there was looting - which there wasn't - and padlocked the gates). There were people lined up at payphones, which seemed to work - people's cell phones were hardly working at all.
One of my most vivid memories of that day is walking past St. Vincent's hospital - which is a huge hospital and trauma center located a few blocks north of the restaurant. They were in "emergency mode" - with doctors, nurses, etc., posted outside to take care of the incoming wounded. And they were all just standing around, waiting for people who never came. Unreal.
Dory and I stopped at the Conway store in Herald Square to get her some "sensible" shoes - she had her usual "cha-cha sandals" on. We also stopped to get something to eat at a Pizza place on 7th Avenue. When we got to Times Square it was eerily quiet - the thing I remember hearing the most were the fighter planes screeching by overhead. We parted company - she continued to her apartment on the Upper East Side - and I headed to Hell's Kitchen. By the time I got home, I realized I needed a drink - so I ended up walking ANOTHER 10 blocks to find an open liquor store.
Needless to say, that bottle of Bacardi Limon didn't stand a chance............
That is the way so many remembrances start when describing September 11, 2001. And the reason is because it was so true. It was a glorious, gorgeous day - until people started dying.
That morning I was in the shower (earlier than usual, for some reason) listening to 1010 WINS, the local all-news station, when I heard them announce "BREAKING NEWS NOW!". The announcer, in a VERY startled tone, said a plane had hit the World Trade Center. I don't know if it was his tone or what, but I gasped and backed up against the wall of the shower. I had NO IDEA of any details (it could have been a little plane for all I knew), but I had a HORRIBLE feeling, and started to cry. To this day I can't explain my reaction to such a little bit of information, but it was almost like I could tell this was only the beginning.
When I got out of the shower, I turned on the TV, and tried to call my roommate. He was (and still is) a flight attendant with United Airlines, and was on a trip, so I wanted to make sure he didn't have any connection to this. He picked up the phone - he was on a layover in Chicago, thank God - and was asking me questions like - "was it a big plane, little plane, or what?". I had NO idea, and based on the pictures I couldn't tell. It was hard to get a good perspective when they were just showing a smoking hole in the building on TV.
Much later we learned that United flight 93 had gone down in Pennsylvania. My roommate had worked that flight many times, and knew one of the flight attendants who died. They held her memorial service at a church a few blocks away from our apartment, which he went to with some of his co-workers.
After speaking to my roommate, I called my coworker and good friend Dory. As we talked on the phone and watched the news together, the other plane hit. I remember saying it was definitely an act of terrorism. Meanwhile, we were still discussing getting to our job at the restaurant, which is located downtown in Greenwich Village. She hung up the phone because she had to get going. We knew our bosses would be mad if we didn't come in.
I continued to watch the news, and it suddenly dawned on me that Dory and I should NOT be heading downtown (toward the WTC) to work - we should be staying home. I still didn't have a grasp on the fact that there were actual people dying in those buildings - it seemed so abstract - but something told me it would NOT be smart to go TOWARD the emergency. I tried to call Dory back, but she had already left.
I decided I would go downstairs and try to catch a cab or bus (they had already shut down the subway). I thought if Dory got to work, and I didn't, our bosses would really be pissed at me (especially considering she lived farther away). I walked out of my building and onto 9th Avenue and got a cab immediately. At one point, while stopped at an intersection, someone in the back of a cab beside me said through our open windows - "they just hit the Pentagon and the Sears Tower in Chicago!!". News that day was all over the place - and unconfirmed reports were announced constantly.
While driving downtown I could see smoke, but at one point 9th Avenue makes a little curve left, and I was faced with a FULL VIEW of the smoking buildings. I remember gasping - all of a sudden it was REAL and right in front of me. The traffic started getting really congested - so I decided to walk the rest of the way.
People were all over the streets, just watching the burning buildings. I was walking down one of the side streets in the Village toward my restaurant when I heard everyone scream. The first building had just collapsed, although from where I was I couldn't hear or see anything other than the people around me screaming.
By the time I got to my restaurant on 7th Avenue, which had a perfect view of the World Trade Center, all I could see was a TON of smoke, and ONE smoking tower. It was unreal. Hundreds of people were walking uptown - it looked like an army of office workers walking calmly away from the site.
Even though the restaurant was closed, some random people came in through our side door - asking to use the restroom or phone, and ended up staying to watch the news. Dory finally made it in - she was on a subway train when they shut down the system and had to walk from 34th Street. By the time she had got in, both buildings were gone.
I tried to call my family in Pennsylvania and couldn't get through. I finally got through to my friend Carl's 800 number at his job. He was in the break room watching the news, but I explained to his coworker who I was, and that I was in New York City, and would she please tell Carl to call my family and let them know I was OK? She was SO helpful and concerned - just like any good Central Pennsylvania resident would be. Carl was able to let my parents know I was OK. Apparently his coworkers went RUNNING around the office looking for him to give him the message.
It soon became obvious that the restaurant wasn't opening that day. So Dory and I started walking uptown with everyone else (our boss had come in and taken all the money out of the safe in case there was looting - which there wasn't - and padlocked the gates). There were people lined up at payphones, which seemed to work - people's cell phones were hardly working at all.
One of my most vivid memories of that day is walking past St. Vincent's hospital - which is a huge hospital and trauma center located a few blocks north of the restaurant. They were in "emergency mode" - with doctors, nurses, etc., posted outside to take care of the incoming wounded. And they were all just standing around, waiting for people who never came. Unreal.
Dory and I stopped at the Conway store in Herald Square to get her some "sensible" shoes - she had her usual "cha-cha sandals" on. We also stopped to get something to eat at a Pizza place on 7th Avenue. When we got to Times Square it was eerily quiet - the thing I remember hearing the most were the fighter planes screeching by overhead. We parted company - she continued to her apartment on the Upper East Side - and I headed to Hell's Kitchen. By the time I got home, I realized I needed a drink - so I ended up walking ANOTHER 10 blocks to find an open liquor store.
Needless to say, that bottle of Bacardi Limon didn't stand a chance............
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