Well, I've screwed up my courage, and here's my story of September 11, 2001. I don't talk about it much, because, at least to me, I suffered so much less than so many others in New York at the time, that it seems trivial.
But it was a defining day in my life, mainly because I found out just what fear is. Not the kind of fear I have when I'm up high, or I think I've lost one of the kids in a store. I mean the kind of fear that, no matter how strong you are, how capable you think you are in adversity, overtakes you. You go on autopilot, just trying to survive.
I was working on Broadway, downtown, right near Wall St. At 8:46, it felt like someone upstairs had dropped something heavy. Nothing moved, it was just a loud thud. A few minutes later, someone said something about a plane hitting the WTC, and I figured it was probably some stupid asshole in a little two-seater. We couldn't see the tower, a building blocked it, but we could see papers flying through the air on either side of it.
We were all yakking, and watching the people running along the sidewalk on Greenwich St. I remember thinking they looked like ants.
One of the women was on the phone with someone who worked in Jersey City, and all of a sudden she screamed and said another plane was coming. About five seconds later, there was another thud. At that point, I realized it wasn't an accident, but a deliberate act. Someone had pictures of the first building on their computer, and looking at it, I just knew the building was going to come down. There was talk of it being a terroist act, and that most likely the Stock Exchange would also be a target.
I called my father to let him know I was OK, and he told me to get the hell out of downtown. I hemmed and hawed a few minutes, not sure of which way to go, because it would either have to be towards the WTC, or towards the Exchange, and I didn't like either choice. I reasoned that the WTC, when it came down, would likely take a slew of buildings with it but who knew what kind of attack there'd be on the Exchange. I figured I probably had time before the WTC came down, and went up Broadway, closer to the WTC.
I was at Broadway and Maiden Lane when I heard the most godawful roar I have ever heard, and I knew without thinking that one of the buildings was coming down. I ran into the first building I saw, ran to the back of the lobby, and hid behind a wall. Although there weren't a lot of people on the street then, there was about 20 of us in there, and someone from the building closed the metal grate to the outside, and immediately told us to go to the basement.
We were down there, and I was just pacing around. There was a woman who was crying hysterically cause her brother was in the tower, and people were comforting her. A couple people (the last to run in the building) were covered in gray stuff, and I remember wondering, what the hell is that? I tried my cell phone, but it wouldn't work. I figured the WTC had come down, taken other buildings with it, and god only knew when, or even if, we'd ever get out of there. I remember walking around, and looking at people, wondering. Who do I want to get to know, because I don't want to die alone. I thought of each of my boys, and tied to give them a mental message of love.
We couldn't have been down there fifteen minutes, and someone from the building started yelling, 'You have to leave here. NOW.' We went up some stairs, down a hallway, and then I realized, we were outside. Only it was all white out, 'snowing', with about two inches of it on the ground. It was so thick, you could only see about five feet in front of you.
I just started walking.