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Where were you on 9/11?

Xelor

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I was in an office tower at Exchange Pl. in Jersey City.

One of my staff went rushing down the hall saying a plane had just crashed into the WTC and both hustled to my office that had an unobstructed view across the river. From my office at one end of the floor, through the open area with cubicles, to the other end were more offices were, people stood at the windows staring as the calamity unfolded.

Upon seeing the WTC, I suspected it was no accident and that "all hell" was about to break lose, so I called Hertz and booked a car. The closest one was at a gas station in Morristown. Of all the times I had rathered I was wrong, that takes the cake. Alas, it was not to be. As I was on the phone, the second plane crashed into the South Tower.

Next, I reached out to my staff on various projects around the world and instructed them to either make immediate arrangements to fly home or commit to staying put, depending on how quickly they could get to the airport and on plane. I'll never forget those email and voicemail messages. I told them they needed to use their best judgment and that they had to "decide immediately -- you have no time to ponder this because your options are narrowing rapidly and delay will result in the decision being made for you by the US government -- what you want to do and let me know."

Last, I reached out to my staff and other colleagues working on projects in NYC and NJ who were from the DC area to see which of them may have needed a ride back to DC. Several did, so I called a car service and got a ride to the gas station, wherefrom I drove around NJ to pick up three of my colleagues.

At the project site from which I picked up one of them, I used a landline and called my wife to let her know I was okay. She was all kinds of freaked out, but she was safe. The kids were safe too, though only our oldest had any sense of the gravity of what had happened. The rest of them just "knew" nothing had happened to me. LOL Oh, the joy and blessings of naivete....When I later told them about my day, they thought I'd had a fun day. LOL Can you imagine???

Anyway, my colleagues and I drove down to DC. As we drove south, we saw fire and rescue crews, some in caravans and other lone ones hauling ass toward NYC. The smoke plume was visible to well past Philly.

After I dropped off the last of my colleagues, I headed into DC. I recall thinking "how crazy am I to have left one disaster zone only to drove to another."

I stayed home for the following week. I worked on everything I could, but by Saturday, I'd literally caught up on everything I had do and had even gotten ahead on some deliverables and firm-internal stuff. But for post-disaster contingency planning, I would have literally run out of things to do that from home I could do.

Well, that's my 9/11 story. What's yours?
 
9 pm or shortly thereafter in my apartment in Sapporo, and a buddy calls and says turn on the TV.
 
I was an Army corporal stationed in Baumholder, Germany. I was on duty in my office which was on the top floor of the same building that housed out barracks. I worked at the headquarters personnel office at the time which was on the same hall as my First Sergeant and Commander. When the second plane hit they came into my office and asked if I had a tv in my room. I said yes and the three of us walked down to my room. I remember being worried that my room might be too messy.

Anyway, the three of us watched with horror. Later that day the base was in full lockdown and we took shifts guarding strategic parts of the base. When I reported to guard duty at the battalion HQ I was shocked that they were issuing us live ammo. At that point in my military career I had never held a live weapon off the range. Little did I know I would spend the rest of my career in a wartime military.
 
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I was in Mexico. A buddy messaged me and said we were under attack and to turn on my TV (I had Direct TV back then). Just seconds after I did, the second tower was hit. Within 10 minutes I had a house full of stunned people (mostly American neighbors also on vacation) watching it with me.

.
 
I was having breakfast as usual with my morning breakfast pals at the original Grey Dog's Coffee on Carmine Street in Greenwich Village.
When I left the Grey Dog I saw the serious crowd on the corner of 6th Avenue and Bleecker Street, all faces staring downtown.

I watched the second plane hit the tower from Varick Street at Houston Street. I'll never forget that moment as long as I live.
 
I was a sophomore in high-school. It was my first-hour English class, and the girl sitting at the desk in front of me was telling the teacher about a supposed missle that hit the Pentagon, and an attack on the WTC. In my mind, the girl was spouting nonsense. A the time, I was too used to the WTC being the subject of math problems and had heard stupid rumors from other kids before. Then we were given the option to watch coverage in the history classroom, where we watched a bunch of desperate, hopeless people jump out of windows.

Probably no more than a few days prior, the history teacher had said that those of us too young to remember the Berlin wall coming down would not go long without bearing witness to an event of comparable significance.
 
In the land of nod. How soon we forget.
 
My first class of the morning that day was Tennis. The coach came to the courts a little late and told us that class was canceled and that likely the rest of the days classes would be as well. After he explained I left the college and went to my aunt's place of business which was pretty close by and saw the tower's collapse from their breakroom TV.
 
I was learning my tack welding at trade school.

Putting two solid plates together and had finally started to brush the weld clean when my teacher came out to get all of us together. He had rolled out the display and turned it on, tuning to a live feed from some news station. I don't even remember what channel it was at the time.
 
Well, that's my 9/11 story. What's yours?

Day 4 at new job. Noticed that Internet was very slow and checked if there was something wrong with our connection.
While doing so a colleague tells me two planes hit the WTC, so I knew it was terror. There had just been some business that went bad between the US and the Palestinians, and Yassir Arafat had been making some hostile noises, so I figured it might be them, but wrongly as it turned out. Near impossible to get onto a news site. Went home and turned on the news. Watched the fotage and got angry. Also watched a local Palestinian kid hoist a flag from his car in celebration. Wrote down his license plate. The next day he apologized, and I could see that he was sincere. He had obviously watched the footage and the humanity of it had hit him, so I threw away the note.

The thing that really hit me was next morning on the metro. By then I had calmed down enough to consider things in a logical light again, and I noticed that there were almost no Muslims on the train, and they all looked scared. You could feel the anger from the other passengers in the air, but nothing happened. And the day after that it was back to business as usual, but I'll never again make the mistake of believing ordinary people can't turn into a mob without years of preparation.
 
I was working at Naval Communications Station Cheltenham, MD (near Andrews Air Force Base) and saw three fighters (F-16s?) take off headed west in a big hurry.
 
I was a sophomore in college, in Sarasota, FL. I had figure painting, that morning. Teacher came into our classroom, told us to stop and go with her. I remember worrying about the wet paint. That painting never got finished. Someone had set up a TV projected outside on the campus yard, and the entire school was there watching it. We all stayed till it was dark.
 
I was at my grandpa's funeral when it happened. I didn't hear about the attacks until after we got home, and even then the personal tragedy outweighed the national one for me.
 
I was getting ready for work and casually watching the morning news when the breaking news came in that a plane had hit the WTC.
It was shocking to see that a plane had hit the tower and then on live tv came the second plane. At that point there was no doubt this was a terrorist attack.
Felt a rage of hate at that moment.
 
I was working with engineering at the time and the company I worked for was setting up a manufacturing line so I was working insane hours, 16-18 hours a day. I got home 3am that morning, went to bed, but by 9:30am I woke up because I heard all this noise from the living room. I remember thinking what the hell are kids doing home from school? I got up, saw my wife and kids watching TV and found out what had happened.

That previous weekend we were in NYC.. We went there often so the rest of the day the phone was ringing off the hook from people that we knew calling us to see if we were down there.

Like the JFK assassination, and a few other events in my life it's something I will never forget where I was and what happened that day.
 
I and one of my partners had exited the Chambers St. exit from the subway (the E Train's last stop), about 20 minutes before the first plane hit. When it hit we in the offices of one of our attorneys at 233 Broadway, aka as the Woolworth Building. One of the most beautiful art deco lobbies in the city, and once the city's tallest skyscraper built by a 5¢&10¢ empire. His office faced City Hall Park and Park Row. We heard the explosion, felt its vibrations, but didn't see it. We, and his entire office staff took the elevators down from his penthouse office to the lobby, stepped outside to Fulton Street and could see the smoke. We started ushering people in the building's lobby as they ran from the Trade Center. Ash was just beginning to fall, and the second explosion ripped through the air. People in the street were either stopped and gazing up, or running in all directions in a panic. We could see police closing down the Brooklyn Bridge. We saw Mayor Rudy and his staff running for a bunker under city hall, from which he didn't emerge for two days. City Hall Park was covered with ash within minutes, and people in the streets were choking as they tried to breath. The stores on Park Row were emptying and shutting down. Sirens were still in the distance, but they were a chorus of many.

I could say we were among the first responders, but we weren't. Police and firemen steered us away from offering any assistance. During the days that followed, we all volunteered for supporting the responders, distributing coffee, sandwiches and so forth. We had grabbed army surplus gas masks from Tents & Trails on Park Place, from WWII, and wore them as we remained in the area, sleeping and taking breaks in our attorney's office. It was nothing but chaos, and we knew no details other than what we saw in the aftermath. For days the area was smogged by ash, dust and residual smoke. We knew many had died, but not how many. Rumors ran rampant. After 3 1/2 days we returned to our respective homes, still not understanding or knowing how terrible this event was, but all speaking about payback for whoever was responsible, a payback we never saw come to fruition.

Only two days before, another attorney who's services we had used, had shut down his office in the Trade Center, for retirement. He lived in Brooklyn Heights, on the promenade overlooking the East River and downtown Manhattan. He was sitting on his terrace reading the NYT, eating breakfast and drinking his coffee when the first plane his former office. He stood up in shock and murmured to himself that the odds had favored him. Two days earlier he would have been in his office working and dead. He thought he had seen an accidental collision of the plane and the Trade Center. The second plane disavowed that thought. He later told me, he and his wife stood together on his terrace and cried for the dead and injured, more so for what they knew would be coming in the reactions from our military, fearing for their two sons who had chosen military careers.

When I got home, my wife didn't say a word. She just hugged me tight, then told me I stunk, and to hit the shower. I did and she had coffee and a sandwich waiting for me when I finished. It felt great to brush my teeth after 3 days, but I could still taste the ashes. We didn't talk, I didn't eat, but I did drink a few cups of coffee and then went to sleep. My wife right next to me, her arms encircling me. I thanked the gods as I drifted off.
 
I and one of my partners had exited the Chambers St. exit from the subway (the E Train's last stop), about 20 minutes before the first plane hit. When it hit we in the offices of one of our attorneys at 233 Broadway, aka as the Woolworth Building. One of the most beautiful art deco lobbies in the city, and once the city's tallest skyscraper built by a 5¢&10¢ empire. His office faced City Hall Park and Park Row. We heard the explosion, felt its vibrations, but didn't see it. We, and his entire office staff took the elevators down from his penthouse office to the lobby, stepped outside to Fulton Street and could see the smoke. We started ushering people in the building's lobby as they ran from the Trade Center. Ash was just beginning to fall, and the second explosion ripped through the air. People in the street were either stopped and gazing up, or running in all directions in a panic. We could see police closing down the Brooklyn Bridge. We saw Mayor Rudy and his staff running for a bunker under city hall, from which he didn't emerge for two days. City Hall Park was covered with ash within minutes, and people in the streets were choking as they tried to breath. The stores on Park Row were emptying and shutting down. Sirens were still in the distance, but they were a chorus of many.

I could say we were among the first responders, but we weren't. Police and firemen steered us away from offering any assistance. During the days that followed, we all volunteered for supporting the responders, distributing coffee, sandwiches and so forth. We had grabbed army surplus gas masks from Tents & Trails on Park Place, from WWII, and wore them as we remained in the area, sleeping and taking breaks in our attorney's office. It was nothing but chaos, and we knew no details other than what we saw in the aftermath. For days the area was smogged by ash, dust and residual smoke. We knew many had died, but not how many. Rumors ran rampant. After 3 1/2 days we returned to our respective homes, still not understanding or knowing how terrible this event was, but all speaking about payback for whoever was responsible, a payback we never saw come to fruition.

Only two days before, another attorney who's services we had used, had shut down his office in the Trade Center, for retirement. He lived in Brooklyn Heights, on the promenade overlooking the East River and downtown Manhattan. He was sitting on his terrace reading the NYT, eating breakfast and drinking his coffee when the first plane his former office. He stood up in shock and murmured to himself that the odds had favored him. Two days earlier he would have been in his office working and dead. He thought he had seen an accidental collision of the plane and the Trade Center. The second plane disavowed that thought. He later told me, he and his wife stood together on his terrace and cried for the dead and injured, more so for what they knew would be coming in the reactions from our military, fearing for their two sons who had chosen military careers.

When I got home, my wife didn't say a word. She just hugged me tight, then told me I stunk, and to hit the shower. I did and she had coffee and a sandwich waiting for me when I finished. It felt great to brush my teeth after 3 days, but I could still taste the ashes. We didn't talk, I didn't eat, but I did drink a few cups of coffee and then went to sleep. My wife right next to me, her arms encircling me. I thanked the gods as I drifted off.

Wow!

I'm struck by the very different degrees of attachment between your experience right there in the thick of it and mine just across the river watching it happen.


I can fully relate to your attorney friend's sentiment. Had it been 9/10 instead of 9/11, I'd be dead. I had a meeting that morning at 8:30 a.m. at Marsh Mclennan. Nobody from there survived.
 
Construction camp in Fort McMurray, Alberta. Graveyard shift, walking down the hall from the showers and a guy with his door open and TV on says, "Look at this!"
 
Wow!

I'm struck by the very different degrees of attachment between your experience right there in the thick of it and mine just across the river watching it happen.


I can fully relate to your attorney friend's sentiment. Had it been 9/10 instead of 9/11, I'd be dead. I had a meeting that morning at 8:30 a.m. at Marsh Mclennan. Nobody from there survived.

Each person's experience is as unique as that person, no matter how shared the experience.
 
I was living in Boise and had just woken up. Katie Couric and Matt Lauer were talking about a plane that hit the WTC. I figured it was just a small plane and was wondering how they were going to put out a fire that high up when the second plane hit.

I called the local recruiting office to see if I could get back in the Air Force but was told I was too old.
 
I was living in Boise and had just woken up. Katie Couric and Matt Lauer were talking about a plane that hit the WTC. I figured it was just a small plane and was wondering how they were going to put out a fire that high up when the second plane hit.

I called the local recruiting office to see if I could get back in the Air Force but was told I was too old.

I thought the first thing that must have been a little Cessna and the logistics of handling such an accident.

But watching live a second plane hit it was surreal. I can only compare it to the live tv airing of Lee Harvey Oswald getting shot in front of the nation by Jack Ruby.
 
watching it unfold in the uk, when the second plane hit live on tv I thought it was a replay of the first plane.
 
I was at home in California, watching television with tears streaming down my face as I saw Tower Two collapse on the office building where my editor's husband worked.
 
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