Sunday, September 10, 2006
5 Years On ...
So five years have passed. It's inconceivable that four other anniversaries have come and gone. Details from that morning remain more vivid than most events I can recall; even memories from last week aren't as bold.
I wanted to go back into my archived footage from that day: I had hoped to re-edit and post an entry which would have provided a tangible glimpse back at that morning. But I am too far removed from those tapes and a long way off from any other material I wrote or collected during the days and weeks following September 11, 2001. So here is a brief written account of what I recall from that day.
I moved into my NYU dorm on August 26, 2001. Two-and-a-half weeks later the city was transformed. The twin towers were a permanent part of the landscape, and yet they were removed, so quickly, from the panorama of the island. I was in class when they fell. When I got out, distraught crowds filled West 4th St. I ran into a classmate I recognized from orientation and asked him why I couldn't see the towers.
"They fell down, man. They just collapsed."
I remember the fear that welled up after I heard his words. I remember running back to the dorm, discursively contemplating the people that must have died downtown and wondering if my family knew what was going on. I remember rushing back to the few people I knew: my roommates and floormates. They were gathered around a small television I had hooked up in our dorm room. The phones were dead - clogged to a standstill.
Fortunately, instant messenger and email were functioning, and I was able to get in touch with my sister and, through her, the rest of my family. Colleen was at school in northern MA, Endicott College. I give her a lot of credit, she was prescient that day: she printed and saved the transcript of our entire online conversation.
But it goes without saying, the events of that day unnerved this brash, naive freshman.
I recall that we had a fire drill that morning at 6 AM - hours before the terrorist attack. The kids that emerged from their dorm rooms were scuffling, tossle-haired, and bitter-faced students, but by the end of the day, they were reshaped, wide-eyed individuals. And they were forever branded "The 9/11 Generation," a brotherhood that still binds the class of 2001.
The firefighters that investigated our dormitory that morning were said to have perished at Ground Zero a few hours later.
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John,
Well written peice. Reading your experience brought me back to the feelings I felt that day as we talked on IM. I think Dad has a copy of that. - The Blonde