Thursday, September 11, 2014

Thirteen Years Like Yesterday

It has been 13 years, but the day and the details are forever ingrained, not just in my memory but in many experiences, opportunities and lack of opportunities up to this day. Without question 9/11/01 changed things, many things.

I was tired that morning, lethargic, and not wanting to go to school/work that day. After dismissing all sorts of reasons to call out sick I jumped on the L Train from Canarsie and headed to Pace, a stone’s throw away from what was to become the site of mayhem. I had my checklist of activities churning in my head: Grab tape from Student Government Office and hang flyers, work in the Computer lab from 9 am to 11 am, go to class at 11:15 am….Sighing I brought my attention back to present and realized that ID was hanging from my neck facing outwards unknown to me and caught a particular male scrutinizing it intently. I started getting pissed, especially when that same man changed trains with me and was again looking at me on the A Train. Already out of sorts for the day it did not improve my moods.

Still we got to my Fulton street stop just about 8:42 am, my ID stalker thankfully remained on the train, and I hustled out of the station updating my morning plan as went to stop in the CVS on Nassau and Fulton Street to get the tape instead of going all the way to the Student Government office. I had less than 15 minutes. Climbing up the subway exit stairs next to the CVS at exactly 8:46 am I was shocked to hear a crash and see one of the largest and most beautiful bright orange flames I have ever experienced shooting out from top floors of the 1 World Trade Center directly in my view. Of course the billowing smoke soon followed and the street was soon overrun with people gathering to see what was happening, snapping pictures and just in shock and creepy excitement.

I saw a Trinidadian CVS worker I knew snapping pictures at the top of the stairs and asked “What was that?!” He said they are saying it is a plane that crashed into the building. We expressed sadness and shock but went on our way. I my mind I was thinking another small plane, celebrity possibly not following NYC aviation rules and crashing. Tragic but not life changing. We had after all only recently experienced a few of those types of tragedies including the Plane crash of singer Aaliyah. I went on to purchase my scotch tape in CVS and head to Pace.

As I approached 1 Pace Plaza, I saw one of the first people I met at Pace, a security Conte who was married to a Grenadian standing outside of 41 Park Row looking agitated. He started telling me the news coming in is that is was not just “another crash” but a terrorist attack! In our backdrop, ambulances, fire trucks, police sirens are blaring, and a crane is driving erratically toward the scene. Suddenly we heard another resounding BOOM, and cries of “a second plane! A SECOND PLANE!”. 

We all scatter. I rush into 1 Pace Plaza and up to the 2nd Floor Computer Lab seeking information and sharing what I learned. Everyone is as confused as I am. Cell phones are dead. Local news are uninformed, many internet sites are down and we start scrambling to get info as best we could and alternately look out the windows at the mayhem unfolding. Bit by bits news snippets like where the plane hit etc are coming out for usually distant and even foreign news sources.

One of our friends who only the week before left his internship at Cantor Fitzgerald slides to the floor overcome with the shock at the assumed fate of all of former colleagues. Then  some time after my usually composed supervisor Argie starts hopping, pointing, shrieking and hysterically hyperventilating. As we all look, we see the first tower falling towards us, people standing looking frozen to the spot, many starting to run, but too late and then we see no more until the dust that resulted from the impact settled. The calm was short lived because like déjà vu the same thing happened as the second tower fell.

We were speechless. Shocked. Saddened. Angered. It was surreal. Soon Pace was also becoming an emergency triage area and all were being shepherded to the basements while outside remained in mayhem. My classmates who insisted on leaving later reported not getting home often till about 4 or 5 pm. Trains were stopped, traffic was stopped and the bridges and streets were swarmed with people trying to get away from the twilight zone.

We didn't leave till about 1 pm a group of us walking over the Brooklyn Bridge as we heard trains were restarting downtown. Having just bought my semester’s worth of overpriced books, a classmate even offered to carry some which went to Staten Island with him briefly forgotten as we eagerly grabbed our respective buses and trains downtown Brooklyn.

Funny enough, or eerily I should say, after getting an A train at Jay Street, I ran into my same early morning ID stalker as I changed at Broadway Junction for the L reversing my commute. Annoyance long gone we animately exchanged experiences. I never caught his name but I found out he was to get off at the next stop Chambers for an interview right by the Trade Centers, but as I experienced the first crash above ground, his train was stopped and they were kept in there until eventually lead out underground on foot.

All things said it is a day that will never be forgotten.

Nathifa St. Louis Lewis 2014