One man in the sun alone
Walks between the silence and the stone:
The city rises from his flesh, his bone.
These were the words quoted this morning by Mayor Bloomberg at the Ceremonies for 9/11. Nine years later, I still miss my friends from Marsh & McLennan, Aon and Cantor Fitzgerald, especially my classmate Calvin. I am still haunted by the vision of the towers falling.
And I will never forget
…being at a conference at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel when I over heard someone say a plane crashed into the World Trade Center and thought they were must be joking. Surely, it must have been a small plane from Teterboro.
…seeing a woman half an hour later weeping because the towers had fallen and knowing in my gut that it was no joke. Something was terribly wrong.
…getting Don out of the meeting and rushing to a phone, any phone, to call his wife and let her know we were okay. It was the only phone call we were able to make that morning, so his wife called my family to let them know I was okay.
…seeing my friends arrive at the hotel on foot and bunking out for the night in the conference room because there were no more hotel rooms available anywhere in the city.
…realizing that the very next day I was supposed to be attending a conference at Windows on the World.
…wondering “is he on that plane?” and waiting for hours to hear that my dad was not on that plane.
…watching the collapse over and over again on the TV screen in the hotel’s bar for hours, drinking sodas, and shaking our heads not quite believing it was real.
…watching women covered in dust walking in to the bar in flip-flops or bare feet (high heels in one hand) to take a break before continuing the walk home – no matter how far home was. Later I found out that amongst the many women walking that day was a friend of mine. She said that she was working in Wall Street and her family had recently moved to Connecticut. They had a newborn son at home and she would do whatever it took to get home. It was not long after that she stopped working in the city.
…walking to my parent’s apartment for the night because there was no way for me to get back to CT and offering to friends to come with me to stay the night.
…watching my dad put eye drops in his eyes later that night and thinking I can’t believe how lucky I am that he is even here to do such a simple routine thing. He wasn’t in the plane headed to Washington, DC. He heard about the first plane on the radio in the car en route to the airport. He looked back and saw the second plane hit and knew it wasn’t just an accident (AP photo). They turned around and returned to downtown to be with his colleagues on Wall Street. They got as far as City Hall before walking the rest of the way with cloth napkins from a restaurant held to their faces. Of course, the eye drops were for his bright red eyes from being amongst the dust and debris.
…going to the salon for a pedicure in the hopes I could escape the devastation for even a little while. The TV was on and I glanced up to see Frank’s daughter sobbing and wishing for the firefighters to find anything of her father’s – any momento she could hold onto. But all trace of her father (and so many others) had vaporized in the flames and heat.
…hearing my brother’s stories of so many colleagues from the consulting group he was supposed to be working with in the World Trade Center. Just a few weeks earlier, his boss had changed his assignment to an in-house job. One gal told him how she was late to work because she couldn’t decide if she should wear the red skirt or the black skirt. She rushed off the subway train, saw the crowds coming back at her, turned around and ducked back into the subway train. It was the last train to leave the station.
Cross Section of the 9/11 Memorial Museum
…hearing so many stories of survival. My friend, a Navy man then in insurance, instinctively ducked flat into a doorway to avoid the falling debris. Others ran down the streets and risked their lives. His Navy training saved his life.
…or the story of the two young men I used to work with at AIG. They were waiting with so many other of my former insurance colleagues for a meeting to start on an upper floor of the Tower. They were the only two who suggested they leave immediately. They begged the others to come with them, offering to help some of the older guys down the stairs. But the others insisted on waiting for the elevator that never came.
Memorial Garden 'Reflecting Absence' Designed by Michael Arad and Peter Walker
…wondering if it really made any sense to bring a child into a world where hate came knocking on our door. Years later, having the child I dreamed of anyway, because if we didn’t hate would have won.
9/11 Memorial Reflecting Pool
…sitting in the bleachers at Yankee Stadium for Game 3 of the World Series while the President threw the opening pitch. It was likely the safest place to be in the world that night. We were just a few rows from the top of the stadium (the nose bleed seats) and our view was of snipers all around us. It was a new world we were living in but we were a part of it – a part of the dreams, the living and the hope.
Rendering of the Memorial Exhibition at the 9/11 Museum
23 police officers
nearly 2900 civilians
(photos: AP Photos and 9/11 Memorial Museum)