11 Years Later...

"Where were you on 9/11?"

This question has become as common as "Where were you born?" especially if you live in New York.  We tell our stories to anyone who asks and discover how connected we were to so many people that day.  You hear everything from, "I was watching from my office in Brooklyn" to "I didn't know what happened till I turned on the news" to "My brother worked for Cantor Fitzgerald."

In August, 2001,  I visited the World Trade Center for the 1st time.  Despite living in New York for over 10 years, I was finally visiting the tallest skyscrapers in New York.  My dad was working for Morgan Stanley in the South Tower at the World Trade Center.  I was ready to travel up to explore the observation deck, but he decided to meet me outside instead.  We went out to lunch to enjoy the gorgeous weather.  He told me of his plans to leave Morgan Stanley and take a position in California.  He left at the end of August to work for Centerbeam in San Jose, California.

On September 10, 2001, I took my mother to a Michael Jackson Concert at Madison Square Garden in Midtown Manhattan.  We enjoyed the night of music and entertainment, taking the Long Island Railroad home late at night.

Understandably, I woke up late the next morning and had to rush to work.  From my home in East Meadow to my office in Melville it's a 20 minute drive when I'm in a rush.  I was in such a rush that I didn't turn on 10/10 WINS as I usually do to listen to radio news.

When I walked into the office, my supervisor, Brian and co-worker Josh, were standing in the hall.  Josh immediately says, "A plane just crashed into the World Trade Center."

"Really?"  I say as I rush past him to get to my desk.  I immediately turned on my computer and my homepage being CNN.com, I got an idea of what he was talking about.  At the time, they speculated a small plane had hit the towers.  I remember dismissing the event as an accident.

A few minutes later Josh calls out from his desk, "Another plane hit the World Trade Center!  This isn't an accident..."

At that moment everyone left their desks and gathered outside Brian's office.  We listened to the news for a while, but Brian being the person he was, he wanted to hear Howard Stern's point of view.  He switched the station and Howard's voice came on.  Vaguely familiar with the radio show host, I recognized his voice, but noticed a difference in his speech.

Someone turned on a television a few feet away.  We watched in horror the video footage of what was going on in Downtown Manhattan.

The twin towers were burning. Flames...smoke...debris...papers...sirens.

I felt like I was glued to the TV.  My heart jumped when I thought of my father, who had worked there just the month before.

One tower fell.  A woman began to cry hysterically.  We continued to watch...speechless.

They told us to go home.  I remember passing Brian's office and hearing Howard Stern's voice again...I can't remember what he was saying but he was trying to make light of the situation.  It wasn't working.

Driving home on the Southern State Parkway was eerie.  State Troopers had their lights on and were standing guard at every other exit.  The lights on the emergency message boards were blinking yellow, indicating drivers tune into the radio for a special message.  I did that and heard something to the effect of staying out of Manhattan.

When I got home, my mom was there and the news was on.  We watched together as the second tower fell.  We watched the rescue efforts.  No one went to work the next day.   We watched the news all day.

In fact, we watched the news non-stop for two weeks.  We couldn't stop staring at those towers.  We watched the attack over and over again.  The smoke, the debris, the running, and soot covered cars and people...We heard stories from friends and family around us...someone they knew in the towers had either died or barely escaped.  No one tired of crying.

September 15th was my sister Natalie's 16th birthday.  We had a huge party planned at a catering hall.  No one would have been surprised if people didn't show up.  My own father had been trying to get home to us from California, but for several days, it was impossible to get a flight.  Cell phone service was still shaky.  We didn't know if he'd make it nor did we even want him flying.

That night, neighbors all around New York had agreed to set candles out in front of every house as a huge memorial.  We set ours out and looked up and down the street at all the flickering lights.  As we drove to the catering hall, we noticed everyone waving to each other or honking their horns in approval as more families put out candles.

To our surprise, very few people missed the party.  It seemed as though everyone had been indoors for so long that this gathering was just what was needed.  Before the night ended, my Dad made it from California.

Forever the Ex-Marine, the next day he insisted on heading to "Ground Zero" despite warnings for everyone to stay away from downtown Manhattan.  What made it worse is that he decided to take Natalie with him.  I watched the news all day and wondered if they would get anywhere near the site.  The news flashed the faces of people missing.  Families crying holding pictures of loved ones who haven't come home yet.  Throngs of people shouting "U-S-A, U-S-A!"

When they walked through the door, they were gray.  They were so dirty.  And the stench they carried was of death.  To this day, I fear for their health from the hours of breathing in that dust.

A month later, a letter arrived from someone at Cantor Fitzgerald requesting information on a securities class action law suit.  I stared at it, looking over every inch for about 10 minutes.  Finally I showed it to Josh.  "I don't even know how we would respond..." he mumbled.  "File it somewhere until we hear what happens with them."

I started a file.  It was the 1st and last letter in the file.  I left the company before I ever heard anything more about it.

By September 11, 2002, I had become a middle school teacher.  I feared going to work that day.  Not because I was afraid of something happening.  But I was afraid of how I would stay strong if my students were not.  11 years later, still can't stop staring at those towers...