In The Dust of The World Trade Center

We can’t help remembering:

On September 9, 2001 I made reservations for an October trip to New York City. If I’d waited a couple of days I would have undoubtedly cancelled my trip. As it was my stepson and I spent the first 2 weeks of October 2001 in NYC.

While my other visits sort of blend together my memories of that visit stand alone. For one thing cars and other vehicles didn’t casually honk. When people saw me taking pictures, they talked to me. Asked me where I was from, “Did the rest of the country care.” And often (as when we took the Staten Island Ferry) cried with us as many of us saw the city’s new skyline for the first time:

One of the things that bothered me at the time was the INSTANT turn to talk of war. The “Drumbeat of War.” I was stuck at work throughout the day of September 11th and I was anxious to get home for the interviews with New Yorkers and those near the Pentagon and Pennsylvania for what they were thinking and feeling. But with Dan Rather and the others it was almost all WAR. The bulk of interviews (where they happened at all) were with heroic firemen.

I don’t at all mean to disparage what they felt or had to say. But, I was craving to hear about the people who got themselves out of the Towers. Or from the office workers who had to walk miles home. Or couldn’t get home. Salon is lost to me now but, on September 11, 2001 they had the coverage I was looking for. The pages are still there in their archive and you can see from the errors how quickly they were getting the stories online:

“It just came down around us”

I was on the 86th floor. One World Trade Center. It just came down around me. It just filled with smoke, and the whole ceiling fell down. There were six of us and we went into an office and sat on the floor and watched the smoke increase. So we decided to break a window and we broke four windows with the hammer. We were afraid that one of two things would happen. That the air would rush in, which was fine. Or that it would bring the smoke in, which would increase the smoke. Fortunately, it gave us air, but it also brought in debris, and flying glass and hot stuff.

So we waited, and were picked up, and went 86 floors down and just when I got to the mall, I thought it was fine. And all of a sudden — badoom, another one. And just a windstorm of soot. Concrete. I threw myself to the ground, and everything went right over my head, and everything went black.

The Port Authority people [got me from the 86th floor]. I have to hand it to them, they stuck by their posts. They were there when everything else was crashing. And personnel comforted one another. It was terrific. And then you see the firemen coming up with packs on their backs, 20 or 30 pounds. And theyre going up 86 flights. How would you like to walk up 86 flights? So they did a great job. When the second one hit, it turned black. And of course, half an hour ago another explosion, and the street went black. You have to just bear it out, and keep talking and talking. You couldn’t even see a flashlight.

The other people? I have no idea. We got separated. Someone has my jacket. There were shoes, change, everything. We got separated because we kept changing stairwells. As one got crowded wed move. And it was difficult, because we couldn’t see our way out, covered in soot and ash. Thats why Im going to Bellevue now. I dont know if there was asbestos up there or not. Im glad to be walking away.

–Lou Lesci, New York (as told to Roman Milisic)

I wasn’t there for the attack. But, the city was still in shock — still burning. I’ll carry the memories with me forever::

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