Train 911

One spectacular September morning I make my regular morning commute to New York City. There is not a cloud in the sky and the air feels "country" fresh even in midtown Manhattan. My regular train, the 7:42 from Cortlandt, arrives at Grand Central Terminal at 8:39 AM. I sit near the rear of the train and it takes several minutes for me to get from the train to the main lobby of the terminal. As I am a creature of habit when commuting, I walk out the entrance from the corridor in GCT through the subway's 42^nd Street Shuttle station finally emerging in the majestic lobby of the Lincoln Building. I glance at the bronze statue of Abraham Lincoln sitting in a chair, a replica of the one that is so striking at his memorial in Washington. Abe is a symbol of quiet strength to me, a strength sprinkled with conventional wisdom and tolerance.

I exit the Lincoln Building on Madison Avenue, then cross the street and walk up 43^rd Street to Fifth Avenue. I pause at the corner directly across from the New York City Library. What a day! As I mentioned before, clear blue skies and not one cloud east, west or north. I did notice a low white puffy cloud drifting over lower Manhattan as I looked south.

I continue on to my office building at Broadway and 37^th Street. When I get to our small office on the fourteenth floor, it is no different than the day before or the week before. The time is now about 8:55 AM. Suddenly one of my coworkers jumps up from his cubicle and shouts, "A plane has crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers!" I quickly try to bring up the CNN internet site. S…L…O…W. I try the local WNBC site with no better luck. We are all thinking that some small single engine plane is involved in the accident. We cannot get any information. Soon after, I get a call from a colleague in our London office. He wants to know if everything was all right in our office. I ask, "Why?" It is now about 9:10 AM. He tells me that two airliners have crashed into the WTC towers. He is looking for details about the incident from me and here I am only a mile or two from the site and I know almost nothing. I ask him to keep us informed.

I try to call my wife but cannot get an outside line on my office phone or my cell phone. Another coworker comes into the office. He had just been on the roof of our building. He tells us he could see smoke coming from both towers downtown. The mood in the office is now half shock and half panic. We are getting little or no information, but still rumors are flying. I receive a second call from London and they say these incidents are reported as terrorist attacks. At 9:30 three of us decide to go up to the roof to take a look. It was heart wrenching. The smoke from the two towers looks ominous. We could only see the top of the towers, maybe the top thirty to forty floors. We hear and see a few helicopters and some sirens down at street level. I then glance over my left shoulder as I here fighter jets zooming in. I am aware of the looming Empire State Building just three streets and one avenue away from where we are standing. It occurs to me that the roof is not a place I want to be and leave by myself to go back downstairs.

There is still no way for us to communicate to the outside world. Someone finds a radio and at least we get some information on what was happening. Soon that radio is moved to another office and we again have no news! Many of us, me included, want to be home and not in Manhattan. Just after 10:00 AM the two coworkers I left on the roof burst back into the office. All I here is, "It collapsed! It collapsed!" After what seems like minutes, we finally learn that they were watching the towers and in seconds one of the towers was just not there anymore. The plume of smoke and debris was enormous. Now I really want to get home.

I decide to walk to Grand Central Terminal. Once outside on Broadway, there are people walking not only on the sidewalks but right up the middle of the street. All foot traffic is moving north. There are no cars, no buses, and no taxis. People look frightened. At one point, there is a loud noise – people start running in all directions. Others seeing the runners also start running. It makes no sense and lots of sense. I step into a doorway and soon all is again calm and is back to "normal", although I soon realize that "normal" is soon to be changed forever. The police are not letting people into the train station. Someone comes out and tells those assembled that some trains are running up to Marble Hill in the Bronx but not any further south. Marble Hill is a several mile walk from midtown.

When I return to the office, I learn the South tower has also collapsed. Some coworkers are already leaving on foot. I do not know what to do. I take another trip to the roof top. Now the skies are totally quiet. There are no planes and no helicopters. It is an eerie sight. I still worry about the Empire State Building, but feel relieved that there is no air traffic at all in New York City. By now I also know about the crash at the Pentagon and another in Pennsylvania. I want out of the city. Just before 2:00 PM I leave the office to head north, to Marble Hill if necessary. The streets are more crowded than earlier with people walking north. Some are obviously from downtown since they are covered with ash. As I passed GCT I see some people entering at the Vanderbilt Avenue entrance. I follow them in. A policeman tells us that some trains are now running, but there is no schedule. Fortunately there is a train to Poughkeepsie right in front of me. I walk down the platform and take a seat. The train is very quiet. Many passengers are like me, somewhat in the dark about the day's events. Others, those covered in dust, apparently know more but are not sharing information. Today there are no card games, no alcoholic beverages and no idle banter. Once moving, I do over hear some quiet conversations, but still am not able to fully piece together the events of the day.

When I finally park my car and walk into our home, I am relieved to see my wife. It is at home, in front of our television that I finally learn the chronology of the day's events. I start to wonder about some of my friends who work downtown. Are they safe? I cannot remember anyone close to us who actually worked in the World Trade Towers. I flash back to the early 1990's when I did consulting work for the Port of New York Authority. Three days per week, I commuted downtown to my cubicle on the 72^nd floor of the North Tower. I wonder if any of my old coworkers from that time were still working in the tower – most likely. I try to remember names and faces and in the following weeks I check the New York Times for names of victims. Fortunately, I do not see any name I know.

September 11, 2001 is a day of infamy. Let all who perished, rest in peace. And may all who lost loved ones, find peace in their hearts.