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#1392 | Wednesday, June 12th, 2002
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I had to be to work for 10 am that morning, so i had the televsion on PBS for the children. i had just come down stairs from getting dressed and was going to get the children ready for daycare. Caliou was on, and it was interupted by the news. I was in a rush, so i didnt pay much attention, only to my daughter yelling that her show was off. I seen that a plane had hit the WTC, but i assumed it was an accident. Then the tv started showing the second plane hit, but i still didnt know what to make of it. I brought my children to daycare, and went to work. it wasnt until i got there that i learned about what happened. it was like it wasnt real and it took me a long time to accept that it was. i called to check on my children and tried to loose my thoughts in my work. I kept going over to the tv in the lounge to see what was going on. Sept. 11 was indeed the scariest day and one that i will never forget. When i looked outside, everything looked normal and it was hard to belive what was happening on the other side of the state. For some reason, i feared that all of ny was coming down after the WTC's collasped.
That nite, i was never so happy to see my children and husband. I brought both kids into bed with us, and hoped to wake up the next morning. If anything was going to happen, i wanted to make sure i was with my children when it did. I couldnt bear the thought of anything happening to them and me not being there. One good thing that has came out of all of this, it makes you relize what is importnat in life. Somehow, how much overtime i can get or how much my paycheck is didnt matter. all that mattered was my family and being there for them. i have since quit my job(sept. 21st. being my last day) to stay home and raise my children.
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Nichole | 24 | New York
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#1393 | Thursday, June 13th, 2002
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I still remember sitting in a cafe in my home town in england, with my long term boyfriend eating a late breakfast when i heard that a plane had hit the world trade centre, i of course like many others thought it was just an accident only to continue my next few minutes normal, traveling home and spending happy hours with my boyfriend. I got home just in time to see the second tower get hit by the plane, which was in itself shocking, Even when its not your country i have several american friends and i thought of them instantly. I later found out that one of my internets friends mother in law had been injured in the world trade centre attack and his mother in laws sister who also worked on a different floor had died. I just want to say that Comming from England it personally doesnt change anything, to me the attack was an attack on the world not just America, a lot of english people were there and got killed also. The cruel words ive read of some people saying that america deserved are wrong, nobody deserves anything like that at all. Although im late in finding this site, i hope that the Familys of the victums will find someway to live on and hope they know that there loved ones are watching over them and will be waiting for them at the gates of heaven when it is there turn, they will be together once again.
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Dawn | 19 | United Kingdom
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#1394 | Thursday, June 13th, 2002
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The morning of September 11th, I was at school when I heard what happened. I was devistated and upset. My parents came to my school to pick me, my friend and my sister up. When I saw my dad the first thing he said was that the Twin Tower's had collapsed. I started to collapse and cry. Iam still sad. Ever since September 11th, I have been diagnosted with an Anxiety Disorder. It's not an easy thing to handle. God Bless Everyone!
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E | 14 | New York
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#1395 | Thursday, June 13th, 2002
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The morning of September 11th, I was at school when I heard what happened. I was devistated and upset. My parents came to my school to pick me, my friend and my sister up. When I saw my dad the first thing he said was that the Twin Tower's had collapsed. I started to collapse and cry. Iam still sad. Ever since September 11th, I have been diagnosted with an Anxiety Disorder. It's not an easy thing to handle. God Bless Everyone!
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Erica | 14 | New York
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#1396 | Friday, June 14th, 2002
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Taking the elevator to the 95th Floor of Two World Trade Center is something that had become a mindless, involuntary action for all of us who worked there. Our offices at Fiduciary Trust had consisted of the 90th to 97th Floors, with a few unoccupied floors in between. I had been working at Fiduciary for over two years, and it had become a second home to me.
8:40a.m.
I received a call from a friend of mine and I had told him I had come into work early to finish a project I was working on the night before. When asked how the remainder of my day looked, I replied, "I'm going to have a really busy day ahead of me, so I'd better start it." Almost immediately after I hung up the phone, there was an unforgettable sound - the roar of an airplane engine.
It's ironic that despite how high up we were, we hardly noticed any aircrafts overhead. Yet today, we heard this one. The next sound we heard was what sounded like an earthquake, then a bomb. A woman on the Northeast side of our floor screamed, and as I quickly arose from my chair to see what the commotion was, our windows shattered. "What was that?!" I screamed. Someone yelled, "I think a plane just hit Tower 1! Everybody get the f*%# out of the building!" I grabbed everything I brought in with me that morning (my purse and briefcase) and ran towards the nearest exit, which was approximately 8 feet from my desk.
I was running for my life, not knowing what would happen next, when I saw my co-worker Lori running out as well. We headed for the elevator, then I stopped. I asked her, "Shouldn't we be taking the stairs in an emergency like this?" and she replied, "No! Just get in the elevator! C'mon!"
We dashed into the elevator and held the door as our co-worker Andrew ran in. All three of us looked at one another in disbelief. An eerie feeling stirred throughout my body. For a moment, I thought I was dead; as if our Tower, 2, had been hit. Then the elevator stopped. the doors opened to the 90th Floor.
Occupying the 90th Floor were the Legal and Human Resources departments. The elevator door opened, and all that was heard were the screams of panicked employees. Lori and I pleaded with them to come into the elevator, but no one did. The door then closed. Why didn't they go? This question haunts me every day, due to the fact that many of the people on the 90th Floor who were there that day are missing.
We landed on the 78th Floor, which was one of the main elevator banks of Tower 2. Lori and I ran into the nearest elevator we could find, and shoved our way in. A woman in front of us said, "That's it! No more people!" I looked behind me, and there were two men - scrambling to get on another elevator.
When the elevator stopped at the ground floor, I looked to my left. Liberty Street, which is the main entrance used by many Trade Center employees, was in ruins. Debris from the Tower and office papers engulfed the sidewalk. I watched as security guards lead people away from the street outside, when I took my cell phone from my purse and called my manager, Joanie.
Still not really knowing what had happened, I said, "Joanie! I think there was an explosion in the World Trade Center!" She asked me to hold as she turned on the television. "Oh my God! A plane just hit the Trade Center!" For whatever reason, I asked her if I should go back upstairs. Joanie relentlessly said, "No! You go home and call me as soon as you can." When I ended the call, I heard someone on the PA system say that there were no problems with Tower 2 and workers should go back to their desks. I decided to walk out.
I saw a few co-workers in the lobby, including my former manager, Chris, who inquired if I was ok. Andrew, who just recently underwent knee surgery, became my rock.
9:30 a.m.
As Andrew and I calmly proceeded to walk from the building, the roar of another airplane engine hovered overhead. We watched in horror as one more plane dove into the upper floors of Tower 2. While everyone ran frantically to search for a safe location, a stampede of people ran towards me and knocked me into a steel barricade. Andrew quickly lifted me up when in the distance was the alarming image of people jumping from windows to their deaths.
I quickly grabbed Andrew and asked, "Where do we go?" he calmly replied, "The South Street Seaport. It's the only place that's safe for now."
10:03 a.m.
We walked to Pier 17 at the South Street Seaport, where many took refuge. Almost all cell phone service was down, yet I remembered I had the ability to send and receive e-mail messages on my Palm Pilot. Shaking uncontrollably, I e-mailed my friend Joe to tell him I was fine and asked that he call my family to let them know I was ok. Andrew went to a payphone nearby to call his family, when a third rumble came. Tower 2 looked as if it was about to topple on us; onlookers by the masses ran in terror towards the edge of the pier, prepared to leap into the water below. "We're trapped," I said to myself. "This is it. The Tower fortunately collapsed onto itself, which instantly gave me the initiative to begin my journey home.
We decided to start walking up the FDR Highway, which was the mutual decision of most of downtown Manhattan. The streets were filled with people, mostly distraught and covered in soot, making their way uptown. Andrew and I had barely made it past the Seaport when Tower 1 inevitably collapsed.
12:30 p.m.
After two and a half-hours of walking and trying to get cell phone service, we wound up on 35th Street and 3rd Avenue, in Midtown. I was able to hail down a cab driver who was on his way home (coincidentally, he lives in my neighborhood) and agreed to drive me home - at no charge. I said somewhat emotional goodbye to Andrew, who in this traumatic time had truly been there for me. I was elated to know that he would be able to take the ferry home to New Jersey. To Andrew, God Bless You. You're an angel.
3:10 p.m.
We finally arrived in my neighborhood and made one last desperate attempt to call into my voicemail. There were 13 messages left from family and friends. It was the first time that day when I broke down and cried. I had survived a terrorist attack. I'm alive.
Although I have yet to receive counseling for the circumstances surrounding the attack, I've learned that expression through words has become my strongest outlet to recovery.
I've taken into deep consideration all my friends and colleagues desperately trying to reach me during that incredibly trying day of September 11th. Every conversation has ended with a sincere "I love you," or "I miss you," and the emotional support has been phenomenal. To my family and friends, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I love you all, and God Bless You. I WILL RECOVER.
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Michelle | 28 | Florida
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