Congress Hall 2014

"Sarah. Can you come get me? Hurry, please. It looks like the entire city is burning to the ground," (said, with the sound of what death might sound like.)

 If someone you love calls for help, you go. Right? Only that day I couldn't have fathomed what I was driving into.

I spent the rest of that day stuck on a side street, jammed between piles of cars, listening to Manhattan crumble around me, powerless if it weren't for my feet, which saved my life that day.

At 10:22 a.m., on September 11th every year, my mind & body are taken back to 12 years ago.
129th street, Harlem, NYC in a fourth floor walk up, on a sunny day smelling like freshly sharpened pencils on Manhattan's upper east side.

For the next week or two the only news I would write about would be up in smoke.

At this exact moment, but over a decade ago, I switched on the broadcast I wrote for, to begin calibrating the days material and learned that blocks away, there was a larger tragedy taking place than I'd ever lived through before. It was crashing into the most powerful city I've ever known, being viewed by my co-workers outside their window. The phone rang- a lot that day.

On the Brooklyn bridge, an adored man's life changed forever, as he watched a wide angle view of the explosions & collisions. He waited, convinced he was next. He wrote about that moment for the rest of his life.
A woman wandered the smoke & flying rubble calling out for her son, while another woman launched herself from a burning tower to escape the pain scorching her flesh.

It took days for anyone to realize how large this was.

Until that day New Yorkers felt invisible, effortlessly. From that day, it would take something more.

  To: Terry B, Andy F, Charles T, Rose, VMS and Francis Y