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World Trade Center one year after 9/11 |
Nine years ago, was the longest day of my life. My family one one of the lucky ones. The memory of that day will always be in my mind. I had just had knee surgery and was sleeping on the couch downstairs when my phone rang @ 9am.
Below are two of the stories I wrote while working at the Repository in Canton, Ohio as a staff photographer.
Part 1
A smoke break saved my brothers life.
Tuesday, at around 8:40 a.m., my brother Joel and a few of
his coworkers were taking a break during their second day of a three week
training program at the Morgan Stanley financial firm in the World Trade
Center, when the first building shook. Above them an explosion. Papers began to
rain down on them, taking cover in one of the buildings, they decided to make
their way back to the hotel.
Back here in Ohio, I was awakened by a message from my
friend Kathy Sutton, who didn't know my brother was in New York. Half asleep, I
heard the answering machine. All I remember hearing was World Trade and planes.
Frantically, I replayed the message and redialed her number. All I could say
was, What? Which Channel, "All of them," she said.
Turning on the TV, the first thing I saw was the second
plane slamming into the building. I still cannot explain what I felt when I saw
it. My heart stopped. I began shaking and screaming into the phone, Oh my God!
Joel is there, Joel is there. I couldn't breathe. My hands were shaking. I hung
up with Kathy and shouted, Oh dear God, please, please let him be OK! I called
Joel's wife, Missi, in Pittsburgh. Both of us were in tears and were not sure
where he was.
In 1996 and 1997 I lived in New Jersey, spending every
weekend I could in New York. I had been to the top of the World Trade Center,
watching the city crawl below. Its amazing how quiet the world was up there.
All you heard was the wind. I was planning to visit during one of the weekends
Joel was there. Unfortunately, I had to have knee surgery and wasn't able to go.
After talking with Missi, I called Joel's boss in Pittsburgh.
Still shaking, I said my brother, Joel Newcomb, was in New York, and that I
needed to talk with his boss, Autumn, and I had no idea what her last name is.
They put me through. After reaching her, I told her who I was. She said she had
not heard from any of them.
My worst fears began to engulf me. Autumn asked me to stay
calm, and told me that as soon as she heard anything, she would call me. She
gave me the name of Joel's hotel and room number, then gave me every single
phone number of hers, telling me to call her if I needed anything, day or
night.
Shortly afterward, I tried to locate my parents. I called
the house. No answer. I called their cell phones. No answer. I couldn't think
straight, or focus on what I needed to do. I didn't want to leave a message on
the machine at their home, but I knew I had to. I don't remember what I said
exactly, but my dad said later that he had to sit down as he listened to the
machine. Finally, I remembered my mom was at the Alliance Country Club. Calling
the pro shop in the clearest voice I could, I gave them my name and her name,
and said they needed to find her no matter what it took because it was a family
emergency.
Hours seemed to pass in those few minutes I waited. The
phone rang.
Mom, theres been an accident, were the first few words I
could say. The World Trade Centers been hit by planes. I began crying and told
her Joel's training was in one of those buildings. She said she was on her way
over.
I'm really not sure how much time passed. I still did not
know where Joel was. The phone rang again. It was Autumn, Joel's boss. All I
heard was, "Joel is OK".
Relief. My legs gave out. It was Autumn, she told me that
Joel was outside having a smoke when it all began. Thank God he smokes, I
replied. I hung up and tried to call my mom again on her cell phone, no answer.
I called Missi, his wife and and told her. I called my dad. No luck. Pacing at
the front door, I waited for my mom to show up to tell her the good news.
As she walked in the front door, I told her. We hugged and
cried for a long time. I tried to call my dad again. Still no answer. I left
another message. Better news this time.
Meantime, my friend Kathy showed up. We hugged as I told her
Joel was OK.
Finally, my dad arrived home and heard the messages, and
called my moms cell phone. As they were talking, Dad got another call: he
clicked over, It was Joel.
God, its good to hear your voice, Dad said. Dad clicked back
over on the telephone to let us know Joel had called. Hearing from someone that
hes OK is a relief. Having him actually talk to someone in the family is
unexplainable.
During the next few hours, we watched in horror as both
buildings collapsed. All those lives. All those families who weren't as lucky as
we were. We still didn't know where he was supposed to be in those buildings. I
continually called his hotel in New York and left messages, each time, wishing
I could just talk to him. I called Missi, his wife, again, to tell her he was
safe, because Joel had no way to call her. They had just settled in an
apartment outside Pittsburgh, so he didn't know the number. The only number he
had was mine and my parents. Finally, they connected.
After making his was though the city and the chaos he got
back to the hotel. He told me they had been in the second building that was
hit, that it took them nearly three hours to reach their hotel. As we talked to
him, Mom and I cried even more.
Joel said it was the fastest he had ever run in his life. He
said that by the time the second plane hit, he and another trainee were near
the church, which sits to the northeast of the trade center. Too close for
comfort.
My brother is alive, and for that, I thank God every day. We
found out later the training was on the 61st floor of Tower 2.
I still cry not for my brother, but for all those who werent
as lucky. For those who still dont know. This has changed me in a way I'm not
even sure of, as it has many people in our country. Maybe it has given me
greater respect for life, not taking things for granted, realizing that petty
things dont really matter.
My parents and I are driving to Pittsburgh on Saturday. We
know Joel is safe, but all we want is to see him and hug him. For a very long
time.
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Bryant Park, the chars represented the number of people lost on 9/11 |
Part II
A year later...
One year ago, smoking a cigarette saved my brothers life.
One year ago, I experienced the longest and worst day of my life.
We all remember where we were and what we were doing when we
heard that the World Trade Center towers were hit by two hijacked commercial
airplanes. Next, a plane struck the Pentagon. Then, a fourth plane crashed
southeast of Pittsburgh.
It seemed as if the entire world were coming to an end.
I was in my living room, using the couch as a crutch, afraid
that if I let go, my heart, mind and life would fall apart.
Last September, my brother, Joel, had stepped outside Two
World Trade Center, the south tower, for a cigarette break. He began three
weeks of training for his new job at Morgan Stanley that Monday.
Sept. 11 was his second day at work.
When my brother decided to return to New York a year later,
he knew without question that I would be going with him. Its been five years
since I've been in New York City. In 1996 I spent a year working in New Jersey
and spent every weekend I could in New York, soaking up the culture, the
people, the places. I had been at the top of the World Trade Center towers,
where the only sound you could hear was the wind.
Today, my brother, his wife, Melissa, her sister, Tina
Proudfoot, and I exit a subway station onto Canal Street, and head toward the
site. Flowers, flags and photos of friends or loved ones cover a fence
surrounding a church that sits next to Ground Zero. My eyes keep searching for
something that is no longer there.
Were standing at Ground Zero.
Vendors line the street selling American flags, patriotic
T-shirts, buttons, banners and photos.
Surrounding the 16-acre site is a 13-foot fence covered in a
mossy green mesh. At one corner and side is a viewing area. We enter the site,
and my brother tries to describe where he was, but he cant finish. We walk to
an opening. Part of the way through, my brother looks out over the hole, a
gaping space of what used to be the World Trade Center. He puts his arm around
his wife. In the distance, bagpipes play "Oh Danny Boy".
Tears slide down his cheek as he looks back at me. I cant
help but cry myself. I walk over to him and kiss his cheek.
Today, we realize how close he really was to the horror.
We search around the site, looking for the statue of the
businessman eating lunch, only to discover its been removed due to the devastation, and the small park it was in, torn down. We wander around the city
for the rest of the afternoon, visiting such sites as Times Square and the
Empire State Building. We watch the city in motion. The scenery has changed a
bit, but its the same great city it has always been. Later, we stop for dinner
at Annie Moores, a small Irish pub near Grand Central Station, before we catch
the train back to Poughkeepsie, N.Y., where were staying. When we were standing
next to Ground Zero, it was very hard for my brother to try to describe what
had happened to him on that day a year ago. But the more hours that passed, the
more he talked about Sept. 11, 2001.
At dinner, Joel talked about the people standing, mesmerized
by the unbelievable horror and hearing windows break from falling debris as he
ran.
The noises were incredible and peoples reactions were
incredible, he said. Its something you cant explain.
Joel said he saw both buildings get hit by the planes, and
he felt the earth shake beneath him when they crashed to the ground. He talked
about the surreal nature of an empty city.
Our return to New York City helped us put an end to a day
that will be forever a part of our lives, a part of everyone's lives.
It was good for me, Joel said. It was good for all of us.
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Wall St, covered in the Red White and Blue |
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