Remembering

I can't let it go without commenting. Another blue-skied, cloudless day. Five years ago today, the worst day I'd even known in Manhattan, and just as bad for the rest of America, and devastating for other parts of the world, too. How it can actually be 5 years ago, is beyond me. Will this date ever not be significant? Vivid, heartbreaking, still fresh in our minds, the pictures on the television only making it fresher. My thoughts are with all of the families who lost loved ones, who are dealing with today in their own way. Hopefully time will heal this, too.

I was walking to work, to 42nd Street. The sky was big and blue and it was a gorgeous day. It was before 9:AM. A low-flying plane roared overhead. I looked and thought "what the fuck!" It was unusual. I got to work and got a call from a colleague (my now brother-in-law) who was still at home. He told me that something crazy was going on, that a plane hit the World Trade Center. Immediately I logged onto CNN.com and started to put together the pieces. There was no phone access at this point so luckily I was by my computer and could let my family, who doesn't know the layout of the city, know that I was okay and not near downtown. My BIL knew where I could find a live feed to turn on the television and listen to the coverage, but there was a meeting in that conference room. I went to our highest floor and looked out the huge windows facing south and saw the building(s) on fire, clear as day. That was a moment of pure disbelief. I feel like I saw them collapse, but I don't know if that was a true experience or just one that I have seen so many times. After it was clear this was terrorism, we were evacuated. We worked right across from Grand Central Terminal, another potential target. I lived south of 42nd Street, but still not downtown. I was able to walk back home and my friend from work came with me as there was no way for her to get out of the city at this point. As we walked south, people, zombies, covered in dust, haunted, were walking north - - they had seen something horrible, they were white with the dust of the buildings, and it was weirdly quiet and calm. We were salmon swimming against the stream. I lived directly across from a firehouse. The trucks would come back, hose off all the white dust that covered them completely and go out again. They lost men that day. My roommate and I went to see what we could offer, and they asked for visine. Their eyes were burning from the dust. We went to donate blood but there were no patients needing blood. It was eerily quiet by the hospital. We went to the west side highway to cheer on all the workers in their trucks going to and from the site. We went to the armory where people were frantically posting photos of their lost loved ones, hoping beyond hope that they survived. There were faces of people pasted to every square inch of that building. It hurt to look at. I would scour the Internet and TV hoping to hear about people who made it out alive. That was probably the most heart-wrenching moment and my old roommate and I comment on how it feels to be back by that armory now, 5 years later. That and visiting the fire department afterwards and seeing the photos of the men who didn't make it back. The smell of the city was bad and got caught in your throat. Sometimes you would see charred bits flying around through the air. We couldn't get out, and then when we could, we didn't want to. This was OUR city. These people who died were just like us. They went to work and became part of an unfathomable event. My sister lives outside of DC. Her husband was in the airport, the same airport that one of the ill-fated flights departed from, that morning. He breathed the same air as those terrorists and I think about that a lot. We are all affected somehow. Eric's cousin and aunt both lost their husbands that day. Good people died and good people are left to mourn for them. It's really weird how 5 years doesn't feel like much.