September 11, 2001 memorial post - Page 2

9.14.01 - the crisis -- they're gone

The towers, the people, and America’s aura of invincibility. I’m sure you’ve probably heard a million accounts of the events on September 11th, 2001, but I’m going to give you mine anyway, along with some observations.

I awoke at 8:30, preparing to go to my Einstein’s Universe (Physics) Lab Session. My roommate awoke as I finished showering, and we both heard a loud noise, later to be determined as American Flight 11 hitting the north Trade tower. We actually laughed it off and joked about New York City possibly being bombed.

Everyone in lab assumed it was an accident, and that it was a small plane. People made comments like “didn’t they see it?” and “how could you accidentally run into a building?” After twenty or so minutes in Lab Session, we cover all the math review easily. As I leave the Main building, where my class was held, I run into my friend's dad, who informed me that the crash was probably a terrorist act. I sprint into Washington Square Park to observe the smoking north tower, when people start screaming and pointing into the air. The second plane had arrived, hitting lower on the south tower, and sending up a huge, bright red ball of fire.

There was a significantly large crowd standing, with mouths agape, staring in disbelief at the two smoking skyscrapers. The next hour was spent walking back and forth between the big screen in the Weinstein 2B Lounge and Washington Square Park. When the news broke that the Pentagon was on fire, people started to look worried and panicked. How could they hit the Pentagon? Wouldn’t they see the plane on radar? Didn’t they have defenses? At this point, I wasn’t sure what was real and what wasn’t. Everyone was in a state of disbelief, and people just could comprehend what was going on. For some, it was too much – many people broke down.

I went back to my room to find thirty IM windows up, and spoke frantically with people online, and rushed back down outside. As soon as I got outside, the buildings collapsed successively in giant balls of dust and ash, devastating the area. The Towers were no longer there. The shock of the day’s surreal, “movie-like” events was turning into sadness, into mourning for the lives lost. You could hear a pin drop in the 2B lounge; the mood was decidedly somber.

Sadness soon turned into anger when a clip of the Palestinians celebrating on the West Bank was aired. Blatant, vicious racism was fueled by uncontrollable emotions. Kill them all. Fuck the Arabs. Nuke them. Break their spirit. Strike back. I was surprised at how deeply affected I was by that image – I had many Arabic friends, but for the briefest moment, I felt nothing but hate.

I ran back upstairs, where a few of my hall mates were just waking up. They asked what was going on, and had all the information sprung on them in less than a minute. Everyone collectively went into their rooms to make phone calls, and then headed back to the 2B lounge.

When the call for blood donation came, a good portion of the room left to go to St. Vincent’s hospital. While waiting on line to give blood, our little group was offered food and drink. Unfortunately, few A, B, or AB people were able to give – St. Vincent’s, with its close proximity to NYU, had an overflow of donors, and only could take the O type people.

We were hanging out in our dorm, in the hallways, and we had almost forgotten the terrorist acts of the morning, when the lights suddenly flickered, and the fire alarm when off. Everyone glanced at each other; eyes wide, and collectively sprinted to the stairs. For about three minutes, I was truly, utterly scared. The run down the stairs slowed to a crawl, as more and more students emptied into the stairwell. It turned out that the power flickering set of the alarm. As we returned to our floors, this one girl was coming out of her room. She had not heard the alarm because she was in the shower, and was distressed that she could have died if the alarm was real.

After returning to the dorm, we ate a free dinner and released stress. We’ve heard numerous stories about the attacks now, but still couldn’t stop watching the news. Unimaginable horrors. What was worse was the feeling of helplessness – there was nothing you could do, there was no enemy to fight. It put my day into perspective: hours ago I was getting up, wondering if I completed my physics problem set correctly.

The facts kept pouring in. Hijackers with knives, hijackings stopped, witness accounts, casualty numbers, and chilling stories. Apparently, people trapped in the rubble were calling out with their cell phones. How disturbing would it be if your life were decided on whether you picked Verizon or Cingular? The stories continued – a woman on the phone with her husband as the plane came in; firemen crushed as the buildings collapsed; people jumping off the towers; body parts all over the ground.

That night, we decided to volunteer at 1:00 AM, but St. Vincent’s already had enough, and they told us to come back later. The next day, the air was heavy with soot and ash. About two-thirds of our hall left. I decided to stay. Today, (9.14.01) I volunteered at New School, for roughly five hours, where advisors counseled families of the victims. I handed out food and water, and even helped console some people who have lost loved ones.

I talked to one woman who had lost her husband, and wrote a letter with her final words to him. She was holding up really well, even smiling a bit. I had no words to say to her, except that she was brave, and I just couldn’t imagine what I would do in her situation. I gave water to a man who had lost his wife – we sat in silence, and he thanked me for just being there. I felt strangely content to have contributed, yet utterly sad for their pain and loss.

The air is clean now, the mood better. I’m going to stay here, at NYU, and do what I can.