Personal Experiences for the day September 11, 2001


I am a U.S. Navy Veteran, that served on active duty from 1984-1993, in
various hot spots of the world, including the Persian Gulf, during the Oil
Tanker War.

One month prior to the WTC Attacks, I was walking around, more or less
homeless in Pittsburgh, PA near the Federal building. I smelled smoke, and
heard screams, and Helicopters. These images were so powerful, I could not
ignore them. It was like they were there, but they weren't. I was confused.
I kept smelling smoke, but didn't see any fires, or helicopters. I was
thinking this was some weird flashback, to my experiences as a 1-inch gun
operator on board a U.S. Navy ship in the gulf, or the SFO Quake of 1989, my
ship was in SFO that day.

I had had problems sleeping, mood swings, crying fits, for the last ten
years, but did not want to go to the VA, and get help, only to become a
burnt-out war vet, locked in a ward somewhere. I remember thinking, "Damn,
this is some weird stuff, man, I got to just give in, and go to the VA,
screw it." I sort of came out of it when I was almost killed by a Pittsburgh
city bus, because I was wandering in the street. That was a real eye opener.
For real, I now knew it was a flashback, or something, I was having. I had
to get help.

I got to a VA shuttle. I went to the VA, PTSD clinic, in a fog. I had to
pull out my driver's license to remember my name. I made an appointment for
further treatment, and some medication, I got a job referral, from a VA
outreach program. 3 weeks later, I was working for a legal firm, scanning
documents for companies and firms in new york, mostly corporate briefs and
emails for pending legal cases. People that we emailed to, back and forth,
every day, worked in the WTC. Sept 11, I was at work, Some girl came into
the room, saying World War III had started, and New York City had been hit.
I remember thinking "That's bullshit, it's not a military target like D.C.,
the missile fields in Montana, or any other strategic bases." She kept
crying and screaming. Everyone was running out the door. I figured "What's
the rush? Pittsburgh is in the top 20 hit list, and if it's true, we got a
half hour to get out of town, and we'll never make, it, the bridges will be
jammed. We'll be vaporized." Our supervisor came in, and took charge, he
told everyone to keep calm, to go home, and try not to panic. Some people
continued to keep working, but he told them, "We're closed, go home, you'll
get a full day's pay." I had a friend, a gal at the next desk from me, she
asked me what I thought. I said "We won't know for quite some time." I
walked with her to the bus stop. By now, the streets of downtown Pittsburgh
were as predicted, a madhouse. Every bridge jammed. Cars trying to go out on
the inbound lanes. It reminded me of The Loma-Prieta Quake of Oct 1989.
Total panic, end-of-the-world stuff. I thought, "Wow, no shit, this is what
I trained for my whole 9 years in the Navy, and here it is." And so, being
there, I was not scared.

I decided to walk, because my bus ride home was not happening. All the
while, looking up in the air, wondering if I would see the flash, through
the clouds. Well, I kept walking, got hungry, figured I'll go to the Hotel
across the street from the Federal building. People were RUNNING left and
right. nearly hitting each other with cars, horns honking. Bedlam. Chaos.
Sirens. I walked into the hotel, they had a T.V. on in the lounge. Lots of
male business travllers in suits, shaking their heads. Women in business
suits, crying into cellphones. I saw the WTC on the tube, burning. I though,
"Oh, Plane Crash. Man, wow. Hard core. No survivors. Not a war, and the day
off." No thought at all that the building would go. Then as we watched, the
second plane came, LIVE, and went for the second tower. I KNEW, before it
hit. Jihad. Holy war. US vs THEM. The World Was Going To Be Very Different,
After Today.

I remembered things I had been told in counter-terrorist courses over, and
over, and over. We were vulnerable. But everything I had been taught was
small scale: car bombs, grenades in a trash bag full of coke bottles. A
couple of bad guys with an AKM, or an Uzi SMG. Nothing like this. I felt
that Pittsburgh was safe, but that New York was not going to be safe for any
U.S. citizens with brown skin for many years. I thought, "Now maybe the
civilians can understand, what military veterans have had to go through, in
combat." We watched, as people were diving out of the towers, just all the
horrible stuff we have all seen of those images. Women started SCREAMING in
the lobby, totally freaked out.

I thought, "Holy war. Clinton should have taken out Iraq. My time there was
wasted."

I looked around, and thought, "Now you all can wonder, 'Will I live through
tommorow?' Like I used to. Welcome to hell, welcome to war. Welcome to The
Real World of Geopolitics. Your Previous Clinton Administration has failed
you. The people get the government that they deserve."

I then realized, my three weeks ago experience, was some kind of
precognitive flash to these events. To this day, I believe that. I had
similar experiences in the Gulf, that saved my life, many times, just a
"Knowing" before really bad situations came up, like Vietname-era Jungle
patrol point men army vets had told me about. The VA says it is just a
symptom of my illness. When I talk about it, they want me to increase my
medication dosage.

U.S. Navy Veteran, now diagnosed with Schizoaffective Disorder, at 70%
disability.
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I am just from a small town in Northern Indiana named Dyer. You probably
have never heard of it, although it lies about 30 miles southeast of
Chicago. Well, I work in Chicago for a computer consulting firm, and my
assignment for September 10-14, 2001 was in New York City, World Trade
Center Tower 1, 57th floor.

I was not worried about being in the Tower that was bombed in 1993. As a
matter of fact, before I left for my trip to New york, I recall saying to my
father, "Don't worry Dad, lightning never strikes the same place twice." How
terribly wrong I would be.

I arrived in New York on a flight from Chicago around 10 a.m. on Moday,
September 10, 2001. I immediately went to my client's office in Tower 1
because I knew I had to accomplish much during this week. I left the offices
around 8 p.m. that night knowing I had to get in early to get my work
completed by the end of the week.

I arrived at approximately 7:45 a.m. the morning of September 11th. Picked
up a cup of coffee and headed down to the server room on the 57th floor. I
was just starting to load some software, when at 8:46 a.m. the plane hit.

It was a large "THUMP", followed by the longest, and most intense explosion.
The floor which I was standing on raised up about a foot and dropped me back
down. Then the unimaginable happened, the building began to sway violently
from South....then North......then South again.

During this time, I kept saying outloud, "OH MY GOD!"..."OH MY GOD!" I
thought the building was going over and I had absolutely nowhere to run.

Once the building stopped swaying, I knew I had to find a stairwell, not an
elevator, a stairwell. Once I arrived at the stairwell, maybe 5 minutes
after impact, a stream of people from the upper floors was filing by me.

I joined the procession and proceeded downwards. We were no more than 10-15
stories down when the second plane hit Tower 2. "Booooommmmmmm" muffled but
strong through the stairwell. Women began to scream and cry. People stopped
walking.....then some yelled, "GO", and we began our procession down the
stairs.

It took approximately 30-40 minutes for me to get out of the building that
day and come out on the street next to St.Pauls Chapel. When I turned around
and looked, both Towers were burning and bellowing black smoke. I was
shocked and relieved that I made it out alive....now I had to contact my
family back in Indiana.

My wife, she was 5 months pregnant at the time, and my first son was about
to celebrate his 2nd birthday. By the time I got through to her, almost two
hours had past. Both Towers were down and she knew nothing.

I recall her answering the phone saying, "hello".....I said, "I am alive, I
am o.k." then we both broke down in tears. It took me quite a while to
compose myself.

Now, almost two years afterwards, I still have every moment, every image
frozen in my mind. I will never forget the sacrifice of those innocent
people that day, and please, please, Never Forget.

Don



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Colmar / France
I came home from school at 4PM that day with a friend of mine, we settled in
front of my computer, and fired up ICQ. As soon as I came online, a friend
in Mexico contacts me: "Have you heard?? - What? - A plane has smashed into
the World Trade Center in New York!"

At first, my friend and I thought it was a joke, some kind of lightning
hoax. He told me to turn the TV on and see. As I tune into TF1 (a French
national channel), the first thing I see is "EDITION SPECIALE: NEW YORK" in
the top left hand corner of the screen, and people speaking about a video
being aired live. At first, the camera is zoomed right in to what seems like
a smoking hole, similar to what a terrorist bombing would blow in the side
of a building. Then, as the view zooms out, I realise that the hole was
blown into the top quarter of one of the WTC towers.

At that point, I felt numbed more than anything else. I just sat and
attempted to ingurgitate the waves of information pouring in.

I am not quite sure at which point in the overall strike I tuned in. I seem
to remember that I saw the second tower being hit live, but the reports were
running in all directions simultaneously, so the second hit was almost
inserted in the flow of the first, as was the crash on the Pentagon.

For the rest of that evening, I stayed in contact with internet friends
while watching the news, and one word slowly started to emerge more and
more: "WAR". That was the most frightening prospect for me. I could almost
picture the world entering a third global conflict, with all the
consequences that would have (nuclear weapons among other concerns). That
prospect dominated my feelings much more than the thousands killed during
the attack -- The millions that may start dying the next day worried me
most.

The next day, things were eerily quiet at school. I met up with my friends
and we had a brief round of "have you heard the news?" before going into
class. I was surprised how little they seemed affected on the outside, but I
reckon that we had silently agreed that there was no use speculating and
panicking - we were too far away to do anything at this stage, so we would
wait and see. The teachers had obviously heard, though they kept very quiet
about it. They simply said things in the line of "I know what we all feel
today, but the show must go on".

For a further week we had nothing but 24 hour coverage of the cataclysm on
all national channels, which I believe dampened the impact on us: being
constantly fed live coverage, playing the same five second footage over and
over again, saying the same things every ten minutes made us less receptive
to new information.

I must admit that I still cannot really visualise the present state of NY.
When I thing of Manhattan, I still see the two towers rising high above the
skyline for a few instants, before I remember that they are no longer there.
I don't think I will completely believe that it happened until I actually
see ground zero for myself.

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Frankfurt am Main, Germany / Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA
I was on a two-week vacation in Germany, visiting family & friends, and
attending a wedding. Two days after the wedding, my mother and I decided to
go shopping before visiting some of her friends. That afternoon, we drove to
her friend's place for coffee. We parked, and walked up to the door. The
minute we stepped inside, our hosts asked us if we had heard "the terrible
news", which we had not. A plane had flown into the World Trade Center, and
was on the news stations.

We stepped to the television in the living room, and sure enough, the news
station was replaying the first crash. As I watched, the second plane flew
into the WTC. It was only then that the scope of what had happened hit me. I
immediately thought of friends living in the area. And as news announcers
spoke of terrorists, I found myself thinking "OK, we need to go to Israel
and Palestine, and set up a 'Green Line' like in Cyprus, and tell those two
communities to stop squabbling like toddlers." It struck me just how
unproductive such unilateral action by the USA would be. The Pentagon was
attacked next, and I was thinking the word "war".

Shock set in. My elderly grandmother, who I saw later that afternoon, had
seen the news. Due to her senility, she did not comprehend what had
happened. I felt more distant from her right then, not five feet from her,
than I ever did when growing up thousands of miles away in the United
States. My mother and I returned to the house where we were staying during
our visit. One of the residents of our host's apartment house had been en
route to Washington, DC that day, only to return due to the closure of all
US airports.

I spent the next few days attempting to reschedule my flight home, which had
originally been planned for the Friday following. I used the Internet at
every opportunity to keep track of German- and English- language news
sources. I contacted friends, my brother, and my partner, all via email. I
channel-surfed, bouncing between CNN Atlanta, BBC, CNN Europe, and Germany's
NTV. As I calmed down, and had my flight rebooked, I was able to note the
differences in reporting from the various stations and languages. Observing
the differences helped me to come to terms with what had happened.

I arrived back home, safe and sound, a week later. At work, I learned that
my coworker's cousin had been on one of the flights to crash into the WTC.
Another's sister had been scheduled to be on one of the two planes, but
missed it due to filling in for a sick coworker on another flight. A friend
had a former colleague who worked on the 94th floor of one of the towers.

I still grieve, still have not fully come to terms with the event, even six
months later. I doubt that I ever will. Where does man's inhumanity to man
end?

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Bellevue, Washington. It was very early in the morning over here. I had just
woken up when my telephone rung. I answered it and it was my step-sister,
Erin, who is serving in the Airforce stationed in Saacramento, California.
As she told me the horrific news, I couldn't believe it. She said she may
have to go over to New York, and she wanted to tell her dad, but he wasn't
there. When I hung up, I ran to the television.

I turned it on to see the horrific scene of the first plane crashing into
one of the towers. Ignoring that I had school in an hour, I sat down and
watched the news. At that time, they said anywhere from 5,000 to 50,000
people may have been in the towers. Of course, this number decreased as time
went by. Then I saw the second plane hit live on TV, I couldn't believe it.

When I got to school, all the students were speaking about the terrorist
attack. Teachers weren't allowed to talk about it. Feelings of unease and
vulnerability were felt by everyone. It was really hard to comprehend.
People here were scared that a terrorist attack could happen everywhere and
everyone was in danger. Luckily, another major terrorist attack would not
happen in the US.

My story may not be that exciting, but I'm glad it is how it is. I was on
the opposite side of the United States from the attacks. I had not lost any
friends or family. My deepest sympathies to all those who have such stories
to tell, or all those who would have those stories if they were alive right
now.
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Breukelen, Holland, I was working at the time, having fun. My friend walked
in and told me two plaines had crashed and WTC had collapsed. I thought she
was joking, but she wasn't. I went home at 18.00 (our time) afraid to watch
television, afraid to find out that it was all true. 3 hours later I still
couldn't believe that it was true. I couldn't sleep that night, I kept
thinking about my family, who live in the USA. The following morning I
remembered a poem, I don't know who is the author but I know it can give
some of you the comfort they need.

 memories keep those we love
 close to us forever
 although words seem to say so little
 I hope they help in some small way
 to ease the sense of loss
 that you're experiencing today
 hold fast to your memories
 to all of the cherished moments of the past
 to the blessings and the laughter
 the joys and the celebrations
 the sorrow and the tears
 they all add up to a treasure of fond yesterdays
 that you shared and spent together
 and they keep the one you loved
 close to you in spirit and thought
 the special moments
 and memories in your life
 will never change.
 They will always be in your heart
 today and forever more...

my thoughts are with you... kim de jong
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September 11th was a day of surreal chaos. It's funny the ways in which
these things hit you. I wasn't struck by the magnitude of what had happened
until I walked out of the battlefield wasteland that used to be the
financial district and saw a makeshift blood donation center in a park. A
few ambulances and gurneys. People lined up. Other people holding up
handwritten signs for AB-, O+ and such. Beyond that some construction
workers gather supplies, presumably for the rescue efforts. There were
tables set up with fresh water and snacks for people who needed them. I saw
a table in front of a fire station with a phone sitting on it and sign
saying, "Need to make a phone call?" Finally I come to the police barricade
set up to hold back the throngs of gawkers trying to get a closer look. It
was at this point that I started wandering the streets of NYC struck by the
reality that 10,000 people probably just died, close enough for me to watch
it happen. Wandering the streets covered in dust, catching snatches of
conversation about the fucking Arabs, noticing people looking at my
dust-covered clothes.

At one point earlier in the day, I broke down crying thinking about my
friend Jas. Jas works in one of the builings directly adjacent the WTC, and
the very real possiblity existed that he might be dead. Jas might be dead!
The thought of that was more than I could bear. (I just heard word from him
about and hour ago. Thank God.)

It was another banal day at work yesterday morning. I came in about 8:35am,
five minutes late again. Had a voice mail waiting for me from my boss from
last night. Something that needed doing first thing in the morning. She
wouldn't be coming in until later. Check my email. More drama from an
exgirlfriend I thought would be a good idea to get back in touch with.
Settle down to get started working. Someone comes running down the hall
blabbering something about the World Trade Center and an airplane. Typical
over-reaction, it's probably nothing. Regardless, I wander over the window
to see what's going on and see a gaping hole in the side of the building
belching flames and smoke. All I can think about is the movie Brazil. Almost
all of the debris fluttering around my office building is paper, files
dislodged because of the explosion. When I see the second plane buzz by my
office, bank around, and smash into the other tower in a huge explosion, I
feel like I'm watching a movie. Everything was in slow-motion, huge
fireball, very spectacular. Watching the events on TV, complete with
comentary, then seeing the actual thing out the window somehow adds to the
unreality of it all.

The other people in my office are milling about confused. Should we stay and
get back to work? Should we go home? I think most of the people feel the
same way about it as I do, most of them preferring to watch the events on TV
rather than out the window. It feels so far away even though it's so close.
Sarah is fighting to hold back tears fucking terrified and babbling about
how we need to get the hell out of here. I put a hand on her shoulder and
tell her to go home; it's ridiculous for us to stay here. She stands
transfixed by the news reports, hugging herself, holding back tears.

I go back to my desk wondering what to do. It's announced that the office is
closed and we should go home. I call my dad to tell him I'm okay. I figure
the worst is over. The attack is done. I'm safe. I'll wait until the chaos
of people trying to get home dies down before I try to get out of there, so
I talk to my dad a bit, respond to some emails from people asking if I'm
alright, try to get a hold of people who might be worried about me.

Eventually, I go downstairs and outside, start smoking a cigarette. There's
still a lot of people milling about in front of the building. I try to call
some friends on my cell phone. All circuits are busy at this time. I'm
pondering the mob in front of me when everyone starts running. No one knows
where to run to. Everyone is just following everyone else. I hear people
talk about how the tower has collapsed as they scurry by, and I feel a
twinge of real fear thinking that the skyscraper has actually fallen over.
It's tall enough that it would have fallen very close where I was. I'm not
sure what to do seeing the futility of just blindly running. When I see the
cloud the dust billowing towards me, I hurriedly make my way back inside.

Back in my office on the 38th floor, it's dark as night outside. The dust
obscurs everything. We are all asked to gather in the 37th floor conference
center. I talk to someone covered in debris. He was caught in the dust cloud
trying to walk home and forced to come back to the office. Other people are
relating their stories of coming out of the commuter train station in the
basement of the WTC when the first plane hit. Slow trudging up the escalator
turned into frantic running as rescue worker yell at people to get the hell
out of there. Others are trying to figure out how to get home to New Jersey
or upstate New York as much of the city's public transit and roads are shut
down.

We all sit in a conference room drinking coffee and munching pastries. CNN
is continually blaring on the projector TV giving constant commentary on
what's happening right outside. I start crying thinking about Jas. All I
want is to be among friends, drinking a beer, ignoring the reality I'm
caught in, but I'm stuck in this building until the smoke clears enough
outside for me to be able to breathe. I'm reminded of Burning Man, and I
wish that I had the mask and goggles that were a constant accessorie out in
the desert. I just want to get the fuck out of there.

People are lined up to use the phone. All circuits are busy at this time.
When It's my turn, I pull out my palm pilot and try to call everyone I know.
Reaching people in Idaho, Oregon, California is no problem. Reaching people
in NYC is nearly impossible, but I manage to get through to a few. Everyone
is relieved to know I'm still alive.

Milling about the office waiting for the dust to settle. I manage to sneak
onto a computer for a bit and reply to emails from people asking if I'm
okay. Everyone is eerily calm. Reality hasn't really sunk in. People are
more concerned with how they're going to get home.

By 2pm the air is fairly clear, even though smoke is still rising from where
the WTC once stood. I'm one of the last people to leave the office. Outside,
I smoke a cigarette then tie a t-shirt from my gym bag around my face. None
of the buildings where I am are damaged, but everything is covered with dust
and debris. Very few people are out on the street. The entire landscape is
transformed.

Walking out of the the disaster area police usher me away from the location
of primary destruction, but I manage to catch a glimpse of a pile of rubble
obscurred by smoke and fire. I'm in a slight state of shock. I'm just
walking without any definite destination in mind.

After the blood donation center, after the police barricade, back in the
"normal" world, I find myself a couple blocks from Deborah's apartment. It
takes about five or six tries, but I finally get through to her on my cell
and invite myself over. Once there, she's throwing things into a bag on her
way out of Manhattan. She's spending the night at a friend's in Brooklyn. He
freaked her out with thoughts of continued terrorist attacks, anthrax, nerve
gas, and insisted that she spend the night with him, away from the epicenter
of these phantom attacks. She's in a panic, the valium she took just
muddying her mind and not calming her nerves. I calm her down and walk her
to one of the few subway lines that are running. She promises to take me out
for drinks tomorrow night.

I go to Edward's next, not wanting to take the long journey home. He has
spent all day watching the news, popping valium, and drinking beer. I join
him in the valium and beer and ask that the TV be turned off. I'm sick of
thinking about what's happened today. We watch Golden Girls instead.

It's about 8pm and people are finally starting to be able to get through to
me on my cell phone. My roommate calls and is glad to know I'm not hurt. She
tells me I've got a ton of messages and my boss called to say there would be
no work tomorrow. no shit A few other people call. Erin is on her way to
Canada with her boyfriend and Tae is spending the night in a hotel in
Manhattan. The city is still mostly closed off.

Edward lives on 10th street and the city has been closed south of 14th. We
go out looking for some food and McDonald's is about the only thing open.
There's line going out the door and down the block. We manage to find a
bougie little bistro selling over-priced hamburgers. I enjoy my first meal
since breakfast.

I spent last night on Edward's couch being too exhausted to want to try to
get home. I got up late this morning to coffee, more news of what's
happening, and more emails from people wondering how I'm doing. Part of me
is happy about not having to go to work today. Edward's boyfriend had to go
in. He works in mid-town. The reality of what happened still hasn't fully
sunk in. Stuff like this happens every day in Beirut, right?

It's strange not seeing the twin towers rising above the NYC skyline
anymore.
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From my point of view:
I was feeling more upset than I had realized, and after spending the day
picking through my feelings I went home to my uptown apartment feeling much
better. Once there, I got a love letter from Katya, and that made me feel
much better. So, I climbed up to the roof of the apartment to write sonnets
and read Rilke, dressed appropriately. After a while I called Katya, using
my new ultra-swank headset / microphone, so I could leave my hands free and
chat about nothing and everything for hours on end. And, of course, standing
on the rooftops I felt that I was compelled to shout out "She Loves me!!!"
at the top of my lungs -- when one is presented with the opportunity to
shout it from the rooftops, one really must, I feel.

From the Neighbors' point of view:
The day after the WTC tragedy, where more people were killed in an instant
than I can even imagine, they see a guy dressed all in black climb up to the
top of the roof. He sits for a while, writing a long note, and then gets up.
He starts pacing back and forth right on the edge of the roof. He is talking
to himself with great animation, and at one point even starts screaming...

From my point of view:
So I look over the edge of the roof during the phone conversation, and
notice a cop car... turns out all the cops are staring at me... I smile and
wave to show them that I'm not tresspassing, and the cop shouts back "Just
stay right there!" Then I turn around, and notice two of the nicest,
least-threatening policemen I've met slowly walking towards me, at which
point I realize what happened and become quite embarrassed. All told, in
addition to the four cops on the street (to catch me in their arms?) there
were eight policemen and women on the roof with me! I apologized profusely,
and they were really good about the whole thing. One of them said that it
"broke up the day" and gave them a chance to chat to each other... I guess
it must've been a bit of a relief for them to get a call that wasn't a life
or death situation at all. The head cop had to keep repeating himself to the
dispatcher, "There is no EDP on 78th st. That's a negative -- no EDP".
Whatever an EDP was, I'm glad I wasn't one. Wheeee!
(ed: acronymfinder.com reveals EDP to stand for Emotionally Disturbed
Person)
Note: I posted this with the author's full permission.
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   * Name: Fritz Swanson
   * Location: Ann Arbor, MI
   * Experience:

I teach at the University of Michigan, and my days at work are Monday,
Wednesday and Friday. My first class is at 9 am. So, my alarm is always set
to 7:30am every morning so that I can get used to the fall routine of
getting up early. It's a radio alarm which I have set to NPR and I wake up
every morning to Morning Edition and listen to what is happening. It's a GE
alarm clock, and I don't know about other clocks because this one is old an
dthe only alarm clock I have ever had, and the reason I say all of this is
to say that it only plays the radio for one hour. I guess that is so that it
will turn off after you have left. GE figures you will wake up when the
radio comes on, and before the hour is over you will be out the door. GE
market research must have determined that most people set their alarm to,
like, forty-five minutes before they have to leave or something.

Anyway, what this means is that on Tuesday the alarm turned the radio on at
7:30am. But I didn't have anything to teach, and my girlfriend doesn't need
to be to work until eleven, so we just rested in bed listening to NPR. Now,
right now, I don't know what was on. I don't remember anything about the
program. I just remember being in bed with my girlfriend, waking up slowly
to the sound of Todd Mundt and the other NPR people and just sort of
relishing how relaxing the day seemed already. I had almost no grading to do
and nothing scheduled at all. So I just laid in bed for an entire hour until
the radio turned itself off. The radio figured I should be at work by now
and I didn't feel like arguing.

So I got up. It was 8:30 am and I got. Normally when I get up I go to watch
the weather channel, but because I had listened to so much radio, all of it
so wonderfully calming, and because I had no where to be that day, I didn't
turn on the TV. I just picked up the new issue of WIRED magazine and started
to read an article about Programmable Matter. There was stuff about quantum
wells and semiconductors and all kinds of sci-fi possibilities for matter
that could change its actual elemental make up. Gold to lead. Alchemy.
Transmutation.

And then my friend David Nelson called. Sara answered the phone and she
said, quickly, "Dave says that the internet is down and that we need to turn
on the TV."

So I did. And there was a shot on CNN of two smokestacks, one of them
smoking and the other not. And I had no clue what I was looking at. It was a
moment where the perspective was all shot and it was unclear how big
anything was supposed to be. Out of the right side of the frame came an
airplane, and it seemed like it must have been a model, because of its
apparent size as related to the smokestacks. And then the plane hit the
second smokestack, which, at that moment, became the WTC. I could see that
it was a pair of buildings and the second one was detonating, and then I
could hear what Aaron Brown was reporting.

And at first I laughed. And I thought, this is like some movie. And now,
days later, I realize what I meant in my mind when I thought, This is like a
movie.

What I meant, what I think every one means when they think, this is like a
movie is this: They mean that this is NOTHING like a movie because it is
happening.

And everything was sort of out of whack.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The phone rang very early in our apartment in San Francisco. I wondered who
it was. Jeremy went to answer it. When he came back he was very quiet. "Who
was it?" I asked.

"Bryan," he said. "Terrorists have flown planes into the World Trade Center
towers and the Pentagon. The Pentagon's on fire, and the towers have
collapsed."

"You're joking," I said, but he wasn't.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Durban. South Africa. A colleague rushed into my office to tell me that a
plane had just crashed into one of the WTC towers. She was quite excited
because she had just returned from New York two weeks previously and had
stood atop the one on a lovely summer's day. I went to the net immediately
but could not access CNN. I tried the BBC instead. No luck. Eventually a
lonely pic of the tower with a hole in it presented itself on CNN.com. It
looked almost like a model someone had dummied up with a shoebox. I phoned a
friend who didn't know and minutes later he got back to me to say that he
had heard on the radio that another plane had ploughed into the second
tower. I didn't believe him and tried to access CNN.com a second time. This
time it took even longer to get a hit. But when I saw it I believed...and
rushed through to our company pub to take it all in on CNN. People just sat
there gob-smacked...as though watching a surreal Schwarzennegger movie...and
believing no doubt that they would wake up and it would all be over. An hour
later the name Bin Laden was first mentioned... Chris Rea.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
New York, New York.

I live in a co-op on West 103rd St. and Riverside Dr. I woke up late on
Tuesday, September 11, 2001 unexplainably tired. I left my building at 8:50
a.m. or so and took the Number 1 subway at the West 103rd Station.
Everything seemed normal when I got off at the West 50th St. station; I
really do not remember the details because there was nothing exceptional
about the morning commute.

I went up to the 4th floor of my firm?s building on Ave. of the Americas. As
I was entering through the glass doors to the office, I heard someone ask
someone else, ?Did you hear about the plane that crashed into the World
Trade Center??
One of them laughed; I thought they were kidding and as I headed to my
office I said to myself, ?It is disgusting to make jokes like that, they are
creating bad karma for themselves.

I turned on my computer and got ready to start my day, when my officemate, a
lawyer on exchange from our London office, asked me, ?Did you hear about the
accident??
It was then that I knew something was wrong and that this was no joke. He
was watching the news report from the BBC on livestream video on his
computer. And then I saw the images and could not believe my eyes. We
watched it all happen on the Internet, from the second crash to the collapse
of the first tower.

I immediately became concerned about my boyfriend, who works on Fulton St. I
called his office repeatedly but there was no answer, not even the voice
mail picked up.

There were no security announcements in my building, which is quite tall, so
I decided that the best thing to do was to leave and head down to the East
Village, where my boyfriend lives, hoping that he would have evacuated the
area in time. I met a friend at the corner of Ave. of the Americas and West
52nd St. and we made our way down Park Ave.

There were thousands of people leaving their buildings. Everybody looked
concerned. Tears formed in my eyes every time I thought of my boyfriend. I
tried using my cell phone repeatedly but it was not working. It must have
taken me an hour or so to make my way down to St. Mark?s Pl. I entered my
boyfriend?s apartment and I found him there, watching the news on TV. I
cannot describe the sense of relief I felt upon seeing him.

The following days were gut wrenching as the images played over and over on
TV and as the pictures in the newspapers showed the extent of the
destruction. There is one image I cannot erase from my mind: The New York
Times ran a picture of the big gaping hole in one of the towers, and if you
look carefully there seems to be a man standing by a window. Even if it was
an illusion, this is what I saw in that picture and the thought of him
dying, whoever he was, still makes me want to cry.

It has been more than one week now after the attack and we try to return to
normal. But it will never be normal again. Everywhere I walk I see flyers of
people who disappeared in the rubble. I feel like I am living in a different
world now.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
S., Maine

This is my experience of that day, at least some of it.

I had just biked over to the gym here and when I walked in I heard people
saying that "they" had bombed the WTC and then the Pentagon. What?? That's
crazy! We all crowded into the maintenance closet where we watched a b&w tv.
I had an overwhenlming compulsion to call my husband at work - the company
should go on high security (as if my thoughts on that were necessary), and
my Mom. We had just been in NYC that weekend to see the Wayne Thiebaud
exhibit. We had not been there for twenty years or so. As we were leaving on
the train I pointed out the WTC to my husband and mentioned the 1993 attack.

As I wandered about the gym, I remembered that my friend's husband flies for
American out of Boston. I tried calling her. No answer. Got home and tried
again. And, again. The video of the building collapsing made we want to
throw up, or faint. I told my husband I needed him to come home. I called my
friend and she answered the phone cheerily. They were in the yard working
and had no idea what had happened, no idea why their crazy friend was
hysterical on the phone - hysterical with relief. It's not any better that
it was not my friend's husband, it is still too awful for thought much less
for words. My relief was that my friend would not have the pain of her
family coming apart.

I got a shower, my husband came home. I stopped being hysterical, although I
was still crying and sick at heart. I keep watching the tv trying to
actually believe this has happened. Removing those buildings from the
skyline of NYC that lives in my head is like removing some vital part of
language from my vocabulary.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
My day had pretty much started out the same on September11, 2001. I got up
and took my shower and left for school. I went to English first period and
turned in my research paper on the British poet Robert Browning and had
class as usual. As I came out of first period(about 9:30am central time) one
of my friends came up to me and had this blank expression on her face and
all she could say was "Can you believe this!!" I had no idea what so was
talking about so she finally told me that two planes had just crashed into
the World Trade Centers and one had already callapsed and that a plane had
crashed into the Pentagon. To tell the truth I never really worried about
what was in New York because I live way down here in Alexander City,
Alabama. So I didn't really know how big the trade centers were and how
devastating this terrorists attack was; on the other hand I did know what
the Pentagon was so that got me worried. See my father works in Washington
D.C. and he often works in government buildings. Luckily this day he was
working at one of the CIA buildings.As we came into Second Period the whole
class was in front of the television watching the other trade tower fall. I
was speechless as I watched these people run for their lives. It was worse
than any movie because this was real people and it was here in America "the
beautiful",my home. We spent the whole class period just watching these
videos of the planes crashing into the towers and people jumping out of
windows. No one knew exactly what to say or even think about the whole
situation. I know a lot of us were thinking that all we want to do is
graduate high school before all our friends end up being drafted, this is
our senior year, what we have been waiting for. I get out of school at
11:30AM and as I came out my boyfriend was waiting for me out by my car(he's
19 and was supposed to be at the community college).He was feeling the exact
same way I was feeling, confused and a little scared of what else was going
to happen. We went on to my house and just hung out together with my family.
Then when 7:30PM came we all sat down together as a family and watched
President address our nation. Bush did excellent and it touched my heart
especially when he quoted scripture from the bible. I was glued to the tv
for a couple more days and I still can sit there and listen to it for hours
but sometimes you just have to get away.

from an alabamian
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
I am a lawyer in Massachusetts. On Tuesday September 11, 2001 at about
8:30AM I arrived at a local courthouse to deal with several pending cases. A
court officer came up to me in the hallway and told me that a plane had
crashed into the World Trade Center; I assumed it was a small plane that had
perhaps gone off-course. I retreated to the court officer's lobby where I
saw on TV the damage wrought by two commercial jets. At that point it was
apparent that the attacks were intentional; we also then learned that both
planes had been hijacked from Boston. I stared in disbelief at the burning
buildings. Shortly after this, we learned of the Pentagon and Pennsylvania
hijackings. We watched as the buildings collapsed, not believing what we
were seeing. All courts in Massachusetts were then ordered closed by the
Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court. I went home and contacted family
members in New York and Florida.

In May of 2001 I took my wife to the top of Tower 2 for a drink at club
called "The Greatest Bar On Earth". We each had a glass of Veuve Cliquot
champagne and watched the sunset. The view was astounding. If you told me
then what would happen to those buildings and those people I would have
laughed in your face.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Perth, Western Australia

I was just drifting off to sleep at about 9PM when I heard my mother, who
had been listening to the radio, come storming down the hallway and flicking
through the channels on the TV. Curious, I dragged myself out of bed, and
came into the lounge room. Mum had found CNN being relayed through the ABC
(Australian Broadcasting Corporation), who had suspended regular
programming.

I could see an image of the World Trade Center with smoke billowing from
both of the twin towers. Soon, they flicked to images of the Pentagon on
fire. My whole family sat on the couch, glued to our TV screens. The images
seemed impossible, less real than the movie Independence Day. We were
terribly shocked, even more so because our Prime Minister, John Howard, the
leader of Australia, was in Washington at the time, and none of our TV news
networks knew if he was alright. It turned out he was fine, but he was close
enough to see the plane slam into the Pentagon from a window. We sat,
watching the unfolding tragedy, for hours.

The world will never be the same again.

God Bless Australia, and God Bless America.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chicago, IL

I had a job interview--I had been part of the dot-bomb world, terrified of
not getting a job--and I was driving on I-290 on my way to Westmont when
Noah Adams broke into a fluff piece on NPR about young teachers in Chicago.
A plane had hit the World Trade Center, he said, but it wasn't clear why.
Maybe the navigation system broke? Maybe it was a commuter plane? Maybe a
private one? maybe... maybe...

I arrived at the company building for my interview, got out. I was early, so
I wandered into the cafe. A second plane had hit. It wasn't an accident, it
was on purpose. I sat there for 20 minutes, just watching, in shock. I took
out my cell phone, to try to reach my brother, but I couldn't get through.
So without anything better to do, and because operating on autopilot was
easier than figuring out how I felt, I went into my interview.

I didn't get the job.

By the time I came out, the towers had collapsed, the pentagon had been hit,
and a plane had crashed in Pennsylvania.

It's odd how a futile hour and a half, with people I'll never see again,
changed the world.

That night, I was sitting at home, after having been glued to the TV all
day, when I saw it for the first time. The camera panned across people
hanging out the windows above the fires, before the buildings collapsed.
Tons of them. You could pick out the colors of the suits they wore. They
were at the windows, just standing there, wind whipping the skirts and the
hair and the ties. And then one fell. And another. And another. Like popcorn
beginning to pop. Now, a month later, those are the images that won't leave
my head.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
New York, NY

I was at the World Trade Centre (I work at the World Financial Centre
building, across the highway from the WTC) on Tuesday morning.

I walked out of the WTC just minutes (probably 8 minutes) after the plane
slammed into the first tower.

As I got out of the PATH train (which runs through the bowels of the WTC) I
could smell something burning. There is a restaurant at the same level and I
thought they must have had a minor accident. Sure enough, the fire alarm
lights were blinking. People usually ignore these lights as these are a
frequent occurrence. Of course, people at the restaurant were ignoring the
alarm.

I took the escalator that takes me to street level. As we approached that
level, I suddenly saw people on the escalator above me running away; there
was a great deal of commotion and shouting. I thought it must be a hostage
situation and dashed toward the exit I usually take. I saw a man being
supported by a policeman. It looked like he was bleeding. I assumed he had
been shot and took off like a mad man. I slowed down when I realised that
all the shops around me were closed -- and the scene outside the glass door
some 50 feet before me was a little murky. There appeared to be some smoke
outside. I wasn't sure what was happening.

I walked to the exit and stepped out. It looked like a scene from a war
movie. The street looked like a war zone. I immediately drew parallels to
Beirut. Then another thing struck me -- the smell of burning had not gone
away at all! How could a restaurant fire deep down smell all the way up
here? I wondered. Then I saw the debris all around me -- some of it was
still burning. I chanced to look up -- then the horror of it dawned on me.
The WTC was burning! I whipped out my cell phone and tried to call my wife.
No signal. Obviously everyone around me was using up the cell sites -- not
enough network bandwidth to get my call through.

Usually I turn right and go to my office. But the way towards my office
appeared to be impassable. There was just too much debris there. So I
crossed the road in front of me and then turned right to my office. Still no
go. There was a police officer blocking my path. I stopped. But several
others pushed through. He told me the only way was to go one block and then
try to turn right. I did just that. That road had debris. I was pushing
along when I saw -- right in front of me -- a huge hunk of what appeared to
be freshly hewn beef sitting on the windshield of a car. I was shocked! What
kind of person would store freshly cut meat -- even temporarily when taking
it out of a truck and putting it into cold storage -- on the hood of a car?
Just then a couple of people put a sheet of white cloth on that. Then I
heard some women screaming and pointing to something below. I looked down,
and a scant six inches from my foot I saw a foot.

I managed to cross the highway that separates my office from the WTC. I
struggled up a small embankment and watched as people poured out of my
office building. I still did not know that a plane had crashed into the WTC.
Then I heard someone say so. I just did not believe him. I thought to
myself, this is a small fire -- these people should be able to contain it
quite easily. Why would my building be in danger? I walked up to the
security staff at my building and asked them if they were planning to
evacuate the building. They said 'Not yet, but it could be any moment.'
Decision time. Should I go up or go home? I decided foolhardily to go up.
Since I work on the sixth floor -- any emergency exit would not be quite as
painful as, say, an exit from the 38th floor (which is where I used to
work). I pressed on up, took the first elevator.

Just as I got off the elevator, I saw a couple of people rushing out of an
adjacent office, saying they had just seen a second plane hitting 'our'
building. Oh no! All I wanted to do at that time was call my wife and tell
her I was coming home. I opened my office -- which I share with three others
-- dialed home, only to find that I could not get through. I dialled again.
In the meantime I heard the people on my floor rushing to the emergency
door. I managed to get through to my wife and told her the WTC was burning,
that there had been another plane crash and that I was trying to return
home. Then I left.

I was the last person on my floor to leave. As I wended my way down the
stairs I was struck by how calm people were. This New York resilience is
something I saw time and time again today. We left the building and I got
out -- now I realised the second plane had slammed into the other WTC tower.
Someone standing by said to me he had seen the plane coming from near the
Statue of Liberty and slamming into the tower.

I kept turning back to see what was happening. I saw at least three or four
people jumping from what must have been the 40th or 50th floor of the WTC
tower. They were flying out only to slam into concrete -- which I
fortunately did not witness. They were obviously jumping from the fire and
willing to take a chance with the jump. I was horrified. I looked at the
pavement below me and saw many, many empty high heeled shoes. Did they come
from the explosion? Not possible because they were all in pairs and
undamaged. Then I got it -- this must have been people watching while the
second plane crashed into the building.

By now I was numb. It was almost 9:15 am. Or 9.20 am. I wasn't looking at my
watch. I saw a few people with digital cameras taking videos and pictures of
the building going up in flames. I kept walking until I reached a subway
station I knew existed. I got into the subway numb with shock and escaped
from the area.

I got off the subway at 14th street and 4th Avenue and trudged all the way
up to 33rd street and 8th Avenue. A mighty long walk, considering that each
street takes about a minute at a brisk pace and each Avenue takes about 4
minutes. I reached Penn station at around 10 am. I got into what would be
the exit train for me, the 10:43 am going home. Unfortunately they evacuated
Penn station so I had to wait outside for about four hours before ultimately
reaching home by the same train around 3:30 pm.

I am glad to be alive. I hope and pray the thousands of souls that died
there today go to heaven in peace. It was never their fault. It never is.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------

   * Name: Mike A.(Filipino)
   * Age: 13
   * Date: Nov. 17, 2001
   * Location: Quezon City, Philippines
   * Reaction: WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENIN!!!???

It was Tuesday Evening here in our country, and I had just finished my hw.
in school. Time for me to relax so I went to my chair, got the remote and
started clicking on the channels. Suddenly, I saw on CNN,that both Twin
towers are on fire!!! The first thing that came into my mind was just an
accident from above maybe an electrical current got short and caused fire or
the stove was left and began burning all the things nearby or a computer
exploded or whatever minor accidents. But when I thought about it, I
realized if it's that minor, why would it be featured in CNN , an
international news channel, or why is the fire so big? And the reporter just
said that two hijacked planes crashed on the towers. I called my mom, my
brothers and sisters to check out the news. My mother even questioned me if
that's a movie or a spoof! We could NOT believe what just had happened and
we just sat together watching on the news with horror in our eyes. 20
minutes later, our uncle called who was a steward for the Philippine
Airlines who just got back from a flight in US, and told us that our father
WORKED there! ( on the 21st floor in the north tower ). I know it may sound
strange knowing only where our father works but to straighten things up, we
just knew it because he was got a work job in NY since moving from LA, he
lives in NJ together with my other relatives and goes to NY to work. Anyway,
to get back on our unforgettable to what seems to be a horror movie, we all
knew that our father migrated to the US and worked there, and 1 of a hundred
filipinos working in the towers itself! Our eyes were full of confusion,
grief horror, hearts sank deeply on the ground trying to build a grave out
of our blood, and asked ourselves, "of all the things that could be done,
WHY THIS?" We all waited for the telephone to ring, hoping our father will
call uninjured. And an hour later, one of the towers collapsed! I can't
believe it! And I was really expecting a great loss of life there!!! Even
though I am about 12,343,213 miles from there, I can feel the horror! And
later BOTH TOWERS COLLAPSED!!! Our father still in our minds and hoping he's
still alive. It was 11.00pm here in the Philippines when both towers
collapsed. I can't believe it, it was really true, it says on the tv LIVE! I
didn't want to sleep that terrible night, but my body cant handle it and I
prayed and I prayed wishing my father'll still be alive and I suddenly slept
on the chair. I woke up at 5:00 am in the morning our time to prepare for
school, and at last my mother talked to my father and he said he was safe.
All those anxieties are finally gone but I thought about the people still
waiting for their loved ones . I felt very sorry for them and the Sept. 11,
incident will forever be sealed in my mind.

Papa, if you are reading this right now, I just want to tell you that I love
you and I dont want to lose you!...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

My mom called me and woke me up about 10 AM EST. I didn't have to be at work
early, so I was sleeping in. I answered the phone and she said to turn on
the TV, they attacked New York. I put on CNN and watched the planes hit the
buildings over and over again.

I drove to work, but we didn't work. We sat on the couch in my boss' living
room, switching back and forth between Headline News and CNN and all the
other channels. It didn't matter which one, they were all showing the same
thing over and over. From different angles. From a tourist's camcorder, with
a guy saying, "HOLY SHIT!" as the first plane hits. The people running from
the dust cloud as the building collapses. Over and over.

We went out to lunch, everyone numbed, talked about driving to New York to
help. No idea how, we just wanted to do something. I bought a book from the
shop next door to the restaurant, and boss' wife was shocked that I could
think of shopping right now. The extremely neat man with the affected lisp
who ran the shop asked me what her problem was, and I told him that she's
upset about the whole planes flying into buildings thing and doesn't see how
I can think of shopping. He shrugged and said something to the effect of,
"well, life goes on."

We drove by the blood donation place, but the line of cars was so long we
couldn't even get close. We got some beer, all sat around and drank in front
of the TV.

My boss and I would occasionally make sardonic remarks about whatever news
footage or talking head was on TV, much to his wife's chagrin. There was
footage of an unexplained fire in Kabul. A military spokesman was asked
about the fire; he responded, "We have a number of contingency plans ready
for any eventuality." Boss commented, "One of those contingency plans being,
'bomb Afghanistan'." I laughed. His wife was horrified that we could find
levity in anything.

I went to bed that night horrified that there could be people so evil in the
world who could do such a thing. Horrified at the ignorant rednecks who were
going around blowing the heads off of Middle Eastern gas station owners in
calm retribution. Every time I think I've seen the worst of humanity, I find
out that there's more.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Freiburg, Germany (tillwe)

In the afternoon (local time, which is morning in the US), I was learning
for my exam sitting in front of my computer in my room. In a break, I
switched on some online news and was absolutly shocked by seeing the news on
WTC. The next hours I tried to find every information I could about the
incident, talking to friends and family. A friend of mine was visiting the
USA then, and only three days latter I found out she was well. As it became
known that the Pentagon was hit, too, my thought was that the US, wounded as
they felt, would react immidiatly military (which didn't happen, what I
didn't know then). The next morning I woke with the thought the world may be
in WW III, in a big clash-of-civilization-like scenario.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Washington, DC

At the time, I was commuting to work from Baltimore to Washington every
morning on the train. That particular morning, I woke up feeling very
disoriented and generally very weird. I ended up missing my train. Once I
boarded the next train an hour later, I quickly fell asleep. I woke up and
overheard a woman talking about a plane flying into a building. Still
half-asleep, I figured they were talking about a new Schwarzenegger movie,
and went back to sleep. Next time I woke up, people were crying and trying
to get cell phone calls out. This time I stayed awake. One woman on my train
was an employee of the WTC in Baltimore, and was trying to reach her
collegues in New York. One person who got through on his phone announced
that DC was under attack, and that the Pentagon was bombed and the National
Mall was on fire. We were stunned for a minute, and wondered if Union
Station was be the best place to be if the city was being attacked.

We finally got there, and were quickly ushered out of the station. Being
miles away from my office, I trepidatiously boarded the Metro at the next
station over. I met up with my boss outside of my office, and found out what
really happened. Hoards of people were in the street - every building in the
city had been evacuated. We walked to the bus station. Along the way, entire
streets had been blocked off because of bomb threats. My boss drove me home,
because none of the trains were running.

I was really struck by how brave people were, and how people were supporting
each other throughout the day, despite how devestated everyone felt inside.
I don't remember much of the next week or so, except that I cried and prayed
a lot.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

El Segundo, CA

I'm a licensed private pilot, and my recollection of September 11th 2001 and
the days immediately following turns largely on how those events affected
aviation.

The grounding of all aircraft flying in the United States airspace was
unprecedented. But that's what the FAA ordered on that morning, when it
became obvious that the crashes of commercial airliners into the World Trade
Center, the Pentagon, and into the ground in Pennsylvania, were not
accidental.

My husband and I live near Los Angeles International Airport (LAX), and
there's a constant stream of air traffic arriving at and departing from LAX.
In daylight hours you can see them arriving, spaced in some cases only
moments apart, a carefully-choreographed dance that brings the aircraft down
onto LAX's four runways. At night you can see the chain of airplanes like a
chain of glittering diamonds shining in the night as the arriving traffic is
formed up into a line in trail for landing at the airport.

Well, as my husband and I drove down Hawthorne Boulevard to work on the
morning of September 11th, there were no aircraft in the sky at all. Nothing
was arriving at LAX. Nothing was departing. The sky was empty and silent,
eerily so.

The grounding continued for several days, the FAA re-opening the airspace
only gradually, first to commercial flights. One of my recollections of that
time was watching a 747 flying a tight pattern to land at LAX the second or
third day after the 11th. This was the first aircraft I'd seen land since
the 11th.

The Fixed-Base Operator (FBO) (the business entity that rented me the
aircraft I flew and provided other services to me and to other private
pilots) that I flew with was in a world of hurt because of the flight
restrictions. Because of fears, all unfounded, that terrorists might try to
use small private aircraft to carry out further attacks against the United
States, the FAA was loath to allow private non-commercial aircraft to resume
flying within crowded metropolitan areas. This meant that those who depended
for their livelihood on aircraft rentals, sales of fuel, and other services
to the private pilot community were badly hurt by the flight ban. Aviation
businesses are mostly a labor of love; the way you make a small fortune in
aviation is by starting with a large one. Every FBO in the metropolitan LA
area that was covered by the flight ban was hurting.

That's what I remember most about the events of 9/11 that directly impacted
me: the way the people who depended on aviation to make a living were hurt
by the flight ban. To me, many of these people represent another sort of
casualty of the attacks: the businesses and people who were hurt financially
(in some cases hurt so badly they never recovered) by actions growing out of
the aftermath of 9/11.

Silent skies and the silent, unseen despair of the people who lived by
aviation were the aftermath of the attacks.