My Memory of 9-11

I've only mentioned this a couple of times, but because it has now been renamed a "day of service", I think it merits a re-telling.

On 9-11-01, I was a consultant working on a project at One Police Plaza, a few blocks from the World Trade Center. At approximately 8:45 am, we heard a boom. We were all taken by surprise, and one of the ladies we were working with opened the window and started screaming. When we saw the first tower on fire, it appeared that the plane had crashed into it by accident.

A short while later, we heard another boom, saw the second tower on fire, and we instantly knew it was no accident, and that we were being attacked.

We were immediately evacuated, and a co-worker and I were fortunate enough to catch a cab, and headed to our hotel in midtown. The driver had news radio on and we heard that the towers had just fallen.
When we got back, the lobby was filled with people trying to get rooms. The hotel was providing them all water, coffee, juices, etc. All planes were grounded, and trains had stopped, so many people were now stuck in the city. I had many phone messages to return to concerned family and friends who knew I was there. After a few calls, I walked about 20 blocks to St. Vincent's hospital to give blood for those who were injured. I was actually turned away because hundreds of people were doing the same, and the wait was 3-4 hours. My next stop was a church. Walking through the streets was surreal. Everyone was walking around in a daze as if they didn't know where they were going, or what to do next. The next morning, Amtrack started a limited schedule and I was able to catch a train to Washington DC. From there, I rented a car and drove home to Charlotte.
I stayed home for a week and gave it a lot of consideration. I had been travelling full time for 4 years, being home only on weekends, and I had been considering a change anyway. I gave notice. About 2 months later, I started a new job that did not require travel.

I am grateful that I survived that day, but I think it is more important that we remember the 3000 people who didn't.

Here is an account of that day by someone who later became a Priest:


Ground Zero: A Journal