As we are in the clutches of the 9/11 anniversary, I am again thinking about everything that happened that day and the days following. I know nobody wants to read this, but I think about it all the time, so hopefully by writing it down I can stop thinking it about it so much.

I was sitting in my cube working when my co-worker Wanda said a plane had crashed into the WTC. Thinking it must have been a traffic chopper or something small, we didn't think too much of it. She tried calling her ex-husband who worked in the WTC, but she couldn't get through. I couldn't log on to any news websites: CNN, NY Times, BBC. Nothing. This was my first clue something was not right. Finally, of all places, I was able to access The Boston Globe, and that is how I found out what was happening, that it certainly was not a traffic chopper and that it was way more serious than I initially thought. Then somebody said a second plane had crashed into the WTC.No websites, no TV, no radio in our department, so Jon Campbell and I went down the the lobby of an HSBC bank adjacent to our building as there was a giant TV showing CNN. We stood around watching the smoking towers with about 30 or 40 other people. THEN they announced a plane had crashed into the Pentagon. People began to scatter. Jon and I went back to our department to get our stuff and leave. My manager had gone off to ask the department head if we could indeed leave, which was a laugh since nobody waited for her to get back. We all took off.

I tried calling George at Mad Matter from my desk before I left, but couldn't get through. Once outside I tried from a payphone, but still couldn't get through. I started walking very fast down Third Ave. from 40th Street, heading towards Mad Matter on 22nd St. at Fifth Ave. I remember seeing people lined up payphones. The closer I got I began to run. Sirens were screetching constantly. I began to get scared. By this time one of the towers had collapsed but I had no idea because you can't see the WTC from Third Ave.

I made it to 22nd St. and began heading west. As I rounded the corner onto 5th Ave. I saw the remaining tower engulfed in black smoke and flames. People were standing, motionless, all over 5th ave., on the sidewalks and in the street. Nobody was driving. I stopped and stared at the burning tower with everybody else. A man in a suit threw his coffee on the ground, crying, and began running in the direction of downtown. I still didn't realize the first tower had fallen as there was so much smoke you couldn't tell. Then, almost in slow motion, the tower began to crumble and all you could see was that giant antenna sticking out of the smoke plume and crashing to the ground. People were crying and gasping. I started running to Mad Matter saying "oh my god oh my god" over and over and sort of half-crying.

I got to Mad Matter and we watched the smoke plume from the roof. Then I emailed my mother to tell her I was ok. There was no phone service. We were basically stuck in Manhattan. No cabs. No trains. No buses. The only way to get home was to walk over the Brooklyn Bridge, but we decided it would be safer to stay put. I went on the roof and began interviewing people, getting quotes to email to the Concord Monitor. We were actually able to order pizzas for lunch. Finally around 7 or 8 the F train was running so George and I went home.The rest of that night I have no idea what we did. We could see the smoke plume from our window and flashing blue and red lights everywhere. The windows had been open, so there was a thin film of greyish dust all over the living room and bedroom.

The next morning I woke up really early and ran to the deli to get the paper and finally read what was going on. We walked around a vacant lot near our apartment and found a bunch of burnt pieces of paper, letterhead and business cards, from the WTC that had blown all the way over the water and into Brooklyn.

Thursday, I remember it rained and that was the second scariest day. I woke up in the middle of the night to lound crashes of thunder and lighting and I though we were getting attacked again. I truly thought it was the end of the world, as corny as that sounds. The giant smoke plume illuminated by the lighting looked like armegeddon. I went to work that day to get my paycheck, but nobody did any work. We were actually getting people asking for "rushes" on their permission requests, which I just couldn't fucking believe. One of my co-workers was stuck on Staten Island for three days since they thought there was a suspect hiding out there, so nobody was allowed on or off. On the train home that evening there were a bunch of muddy, exhausted rescue workers who told everybody they needed socks at Ground Zero. So I got a bunch of socks the next day and dropped them off at bookstore turned relief center near my apt.

Friday George and I decided to go out to eat. It was amazing that the outdoor cafes were just as packed as if nothing was happening. I couldn't believe people were eating outside with all that filth billowing in the air. I guess most of it did head into Brooklyn, but whatever. The air is full of filth regardless. We ate inside, but the woman who seated us had a dust-mask on, and our waitress just wouldn't stop watching the news. Sirens were just screaming past constantly.

More later...