A Tuesday in September
On Sunday, September 9th 2001, my husband, David, and I had been at Robert Moses Beach on Long Island, just east of New York City. It had been a gorgeous day and it was still summer. On our way home from the beach we got a little fouled up on our route back to Connecticut, and we accidentally took a highway that brought us closer to New York City.
I remember looking at downtown Manhattan as we swung by it on the freeway, and saying to my husband: “All roads lead to Rome”. With all the freeways full of cars and trucks leading into and out of New York , the city looked like the hub of a giant wheel . And the Twin Towers stood in the distance.
Just Two Mornings Later the Unthinkable Happened.
I think everyone remembers where they were on Tuesday, September 11th . I was at a little lakeside cottage in South Salem , New York, an hour and a half from Manhattan. It was a lovely sunny morning at Lake Waccabuc. My husband called me from work and told me about the plane that flew into the first of the World Trade Center Towers.
My brother-in-law’s cottage where we were staying didn’t have TV, and when David called me back and said it was getting worse in Manhattan I went to our neighbors next door to watch their TV with them.
My sweet neighbors, who lived in New York City most of the year, were shaken. As we were watching the TV with disbelief a call came in from my friend’s hairdresser telling her that her afternoon appointment in Manhattan was cancelled. No one was able to enter New York City unless they were first responders.
After about an hour of watching the terror unfolding in New York I went back home and started to really pray in earnest. I phoned a church group that I was affiliated with in Manhattan to see how all of our members were faring. It took a couple of hours to reach someone, and she told me that a lot of the single parish members were at our church and were praying together. They stayed and prayed through-out the day and into the evening, God bless them all. They were at 26th and Broadway, in mid-town Manhattan, many blocks from lower Manhattan where the Twin Towers were located.
Smoke Rising From Lower Manhattan
As you can probably remember from all of the TV coverage of that day it was total chaos in Lower Manhattan. First one Tower fell, and then the second. People were terrified and running any way they could to get away from the carnage.
I wanted to go to our church, but no one but police and fire fighters were going into New York. Everyone was getting out however they could. Trains were only leaving the city, and no vehicle traffic was allowed in.
So, I had to wait until the next day to go into New York on the train. I guess people might have thought I was crazy, but I felt called to be there, and felt that I had to go into Manhattan. I was supposed to lead a new people’s class at our church, but I decided the best thing to do would be to have a Healing Service for all of the survivors and for New York City itself.
When my train from Katonah got into Grand Central Station it was eerily quiet. Not many people were there except for a huge number of armed police inside and outside of the Station. Everyone was on edge, and I was just glad they allowed me to get into New York to see our people.
When I got out onto the sidewalk and started heading towards mid-town, I could see the smoke rising from lower Manhattan. There was no traffic: no taxis, cars, or even buses as far as I can remember. There were a few people walking like me. I passed folks who were just doing every day things, and what really impressed me was that everyone was calm. Everyone was in shock.
I walked all the way down to Broadway and 26th. I think I bought something to eat, and then I went to our Church. You can’t imagine how wonderful it was to see familiar faces, and know that my friends were all right! A few weeks later, after the dust settled, we found out that all of our members were safe. Several people were working in Lower Manhattan on September 11th close to the Twin Towers and saw them fall.
The Twin Towers: A No-Fly Zone
On September 11th, one of our young members was up having breakfast with an international group of university students at the “Windows of the World” Restaurant at the very top of the South Tower. The most amazing story was told by Darryl R., our church member. He saw a plane fly by the Tower when he was having breakfast, and he knew from his military training that something was terribly wrong! The Twin Towers were a no-fly zone for all aircraft.
Our dear Darryl tried to communicate his desire to have all his young friends in his breakfast group get up and immediately leave the Tower. (“It’s not safe here ! This is a dangerous situation! We’ve all got to get up and make our way out of the building – Now!!”)
Unfortunately for the dear young people, no one listened to Darryl. He raced into the restaurant lobby and took a service elevator down to the ground floor of the Tower and made it safely out of the building.
I wish I didn’t have to tell you that no one on the top floors of that Tower was able to find a staircase to lead them to safety when they had to evacuate the building. All of Darryl’s friends in the restaurant, and everyone on those upper floors lost their lives, may they all rest in peace.
Reaching Out to Say: “Goodbye Dear”
I read so many newspapers, and watched a lot of TV coverage of 9/11. We all did. We were all in some kind of shock, especially family members who lost loved ones. Families who lost fire-fighters and other first responders were especially hard hit. The financial firm of Cantor Fitzgerald lost 658 employees the morning of 9/11, God bless them all.
It was heart-breaking to see the notice boards that sprung up around Grand Central Station with photos of the missing…”Have you seen my fiancé who worked on the 105th floor of Tower Two?” So many photos of fine Americans whose lives were lost that morning; so many broken hearts.
My mother in law told me about the phone calls that people who were trapped in the Towers were making to their husbands and wives. They were goodbye calls, and it makes me cry now as I think of the pathos; the lost spouses, friends, children, fathers and mothers.
For me September the 11th, 2001 was seeing the bad and the ugly, and hearing about the good things that were done by complete strangers. There was a man who ran a shoe store just a few blocks from Ground Zero. He was giving away running shoes to anyone who made it into his store. Apparently he gave away dozens of pairs of running shoes to women with broken high heels and bloody feet who had climbed down the staircases out of the Towers. I believe that Christ was working through him that day. Those people were making their way home on foot; there were no vehicles driving anywhere.
As the scope of the disaster began to be apparent, there were wonderful generous gifts to New Yorkers that began to pour in from all over the country. Tractor trailers loaded with Teddy Bears came into New York City. Every child who lost a parent or relative at Ground Zero was given a beautiful Teddy. And supplies of all sorts arrived, often with one or more first responders with their sniffer dogs in tow.
At Ground Zero
At Ground Zero itself there were a whole host of psychologists, counselors, ministers, priests, rabbis, chiropractors, and massage therapists: all wonderful folk who came to New York out of the goodness of their hearts to support the police, fire fighters and other first responders who were digging through the rubble of the Towers 24 hours a day.
I flew into La Guardia Airport in New York a couple of months later at night, and saw from the plane the huge giant lights that were used to enable the rescuers to work through the night. Ground Zero was lit up just as bright as a sunny day so that the rescue work could continue around the clock.
Mother Nature helped as She so often does when disaster strikes, by giving us a really warm winter in 2002. I know it was because there were selfless heroes in New York City who were working tirelessly to find their brothers in arms.
None of us will ever forget the brave fire-fighters who ran into harm’s way into the Towers as others escaped the terror and destruction. We will never forget their loyalty, their devotion and their great sacrifice. We lost over 350 fire fighters in one day, and it will take decades for all of the families to recover from their huge losses.
My heart goes out to all of these wonderful men and women who gave their lives that others might live.
I Saw The Good
On September 12th, 2001, I saw the good. There was the bad and the ugly that had happened to New York, but on Wednesday the 12th, and for weeks and weeks, there were acts of kindness and love that happened all over New York!
Taxis didn’t honk their horns! Nobody who drove honked their horns at other drivers ! So unlike New Yorkers…but people were realizing ” I’m alive, and you’re alive, and we are grateful, and so for now we are going to be more loving to each other.”
There was death, there were broken hearts, there was great sorrow, there had been an enormous tragedy; but out of it all New Yorkers’ hearts grew larger, and we all saw the Good.
I am proud of New Yorkers – I always will be because I saw them rise to the occasion, and draw strength from within, and carry on, and re-build, and because, most of all, they showed us the Good. That Light triumphs over darkness, and that Good always wins over evil, because it is of God.
