September 11th, 2001
Afternoon
Work was very quiet that day. My co-workers were subdued; hardly any customers came in at all. Those that did were generally quiet, solemn, almost grim. Someone in the catalog center set up a television set and tuned it to the local news. I went in a couple of times during the day to try and find out what was going on, but the reception was terrible. We were left that day with nothing but rumors, fears, worries, and snippets of information. The images which did come through were snowy and indistinct. I caught a glimpse of the shattered Pentagon building, but it was mostly smoke. Once I saw what might have been the North Tower collapsing, but I couldn't really see that, either. It was dreadful not knowing what was going on.
The most eerie thing that day, however, was the lack of airplanes. The building where I worked is part of an old warehouse in Seattle's Industrial District. It lies directly under a major flight path for Boeing Field, a scant 3 or 4 miles away. We were accustomed to hearing planes of all sizes fly over us at landing altitudes, only a few hundred feet up. Mostly it was light planes or small chartered jets, but occasionally a large commercial jet would fly overhead, screaming through the sky on its way to the runway, shaking the building as it went.
On September 11th, there was nothing. Nothing at all. Silence.
In the silence, I had plenty of time to think about what might be going on in New York. Not really knowing what was happening, I could only guess as to the extent of the damage. How many buildings were gone? How many people killed? Were the Trade Towers really gone completely, or had they just partly collapsed? Who was responsible for this? What was the whole story?
I don't live in New York. I live near Seattle. I'd visited, though, in the early 1990's. One of my best friends went to Columbia University, and I took the opportunity to spend a week with her while she was still in school. I absolutely loved it. We did all the touristy things -- took the Staten Island Ferry, went up the Empire State Building, visited Liberty and Ellis islands, and tooled around all over Manhattan, seeing museums, shops, neighborhoods, and all kinds of things. No, I'm not a native New Yorker. I probably wouldn't live there, as the adage says. But like many visitors the world over, I fell in love with the place. It was rough and impersonal, yet it still had a pulse, and a strong one at that. I thoroughly enjoyed my visit, and left with the conviction that I will visit again someday.
While I was there, my friend and I went up the South Tower. That day, the outdoor observation deck was closed because of high winds; but I can remember the indoor promenade, and the full 360-degree view of New York and the surrounding areas. I can remember my ears popping in the elevators on the way up. It amazed me that a building could be so immense.
All day at work, my mind kept going back to my memory of those two buildings. The thing I couldn't get my head around was the fact that I'd been there, and now they were gone? Two huge buildings, that big, that strong, representative of that much power, and they were completely gone??
At that point I couldn't even begin to comprehend the fact that thousands of people were gone with them.