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the horror i experienced...
Posted by: Pete Burke from New York Wednesday February 13, 2002 @ 04:04 PST
september 11, 2001 morning through the windows of the apartment, the soft glow of morning light was now starting to creep in. it was the kind of light that gently let’s you know you’ve stayed up way too late. i was beyond tired, and still nursing a worsening cold that had claimed my voice the night before. i had been working long hours all week on a michael jackson show at madison square garden. i was on such a high after having such a great night, that i decided to walk most of the way home from 33rd street. the night before had been a beautiful late summer night. a freak autumn thunderstorm swept through the city on the night of the 10th, clearing the way for a crisp, starry night. i picked up the subway at 18th street down to chambers, and walked through the trade center area at about 3 in the morning, there was hardly anyone around. it was a quiet, warm, late summer night. i continued over to church street and looked up at the towers as i walked by. most of the lights were out, and the towers produced two dark silhouettes against the night sky. when i arrived at the apartment on greenwich street, i was tired, but too excited to go to sleep. i went out for a beer and slice of pizza at cordato’s deli, a few doors down from the apartment. even at 4a.m., there was fresh pizza. only in new york. i went back to the apartment and spent the next few hours online checking e-mails, corresponding with friends. now the sun was coming up and i knew that i desperately needed sleep if i was going to get over this cold. it was about 7 a.m. my roommate alex wasn’t home sleeping in his top bunk, so i cashed in on his offer to sleep there when he’s not home. i was looking forward to sleeping late in after quite a long week of work. i had the kind of feeling where you’re actually excited about going to sleep. i knew that the minute i hit the bed, i would be out cold. i was still in my ‘dress black’ shirt from the show the night before, and had on a pair of boxers. i had to step on the windowsill to climb up into the bunk. i lay down with thoughts of what i might do on my day off. i was thinking of possibly signing up at the fitness center, which was downstairs, right next to the apartment building. maybe i would go out and explore the neighborhood in the afternoon, check out some of the restaurants, stores, bars, and take some photos. i began to drift off into sleep. after you’ve lived in new york for a while, you become accustomed to sleeping with loud noises. you have to, otherwise you won’t sleep. whether it be taxi cabs whizzing by, garbage trucks doing their pre dawn routes, or drunks yelling at the top of their lungs in the middle of the night, sleeping through these noises became easy after awhile. it was just part of the city backdrop. in some ways, it added to the charm of the city. at the previous apartment i was staying at on 10th st., there was construction work going on all summer long on the street below. the workers were there all day from 7a.m. cutting the street open and jack-hammering that sounded like there was a machine gun battle going on outside my window. when they were done for the day, they would cover the gap in the street with these large steel plates. all night long the rattling sound of cars and taxis speeding over the steel plates was enough to wake the dead, but i simply got used to it, and was able to sleep through the night, no problem. at 8:45 am, september 11th, my eyes open. i’ve just heard a horrific noise. i begin replaying the sound i’ve just heard in my head, over and over. what the hell was that? was it an explosion? it sure sounded like one. a year of living in new york has taught me to go back to sleep, but now i can hear things falling to the street, windows shattering, pieces of metal hitting the ground, things hitting the side of the building i’m in people shouting, and things falling to the street directly below. all of this is quickly adding up to tell me that something is seriously wrong. i jump from the top of the bunk bed and hit the hardwood floor with my bare feet. i scramble over to the window. out of my seventh floor window i can see the 55-story banker’s trust building directly in front of me and it appears that there’s a large plume of smoke coming from the top of it, or at least that’s my first impression. the sound is still playing over and over in my head as i try to search my mind for answers. unmistakably, there has been a terrible explosion. i can see millions of sheets of office paper cascading down through the gaps in between the office buildings. to my left, the sky is filled with even more sheets of office paper that appeared floating in the air. i notice a single sheet of paper coming down like a feather directly outside my window; the corner of the paper was on fire. on the street below, to my left, i notice a single police officer on the corner of washington st. frantically trying to direct people to get out of the way. i see a few people running up washington st. and breaking off in different directions when they got to the corner of albany st. at first you don’t want to believe what you’re seeing, but it’s there right in front of you. everything i was seeing was indicating that something terrible had just happened. i fumbled for my digital camera, pulling it out of my camera bag, turning it on and hoping that there was enough battery power to snap a couple of shots. i began taking a few shots out the window just minutes after the explosion. my roommate barbara, stirred by the sound of the explosion, wakes and comes out to the living room. “pete, what’s going on?” i believe she said. “i don’t know, come here and check this out.” barbara joins me at the window and we both just watch as more smoke fills the air above us and to my amazement, i notice that the street below our apartment is already covered in a layer of debris. barbara and i review some of the digital shots i had just taken, and we keep looking back out the window in astonishment. the phone rings and barbara runs over to pick up the phone. it’s one of our roommates, alex. barbara is repeating what she’s hearing in the form of a question. “are you serious? there’s a huge hole in the side of the trade center?” alex is pleading with her for us to get out of the apartment, fast. apparently, from where he was, he could see how bad the situation was, and thought that we needed to get out of there, quick. upon hearing this, i immediately start looking for my 35mm camera, digging through my suitcases, which at this point were lying open and still mostly unpacked and in disarray on the floor by the window. i had only been staying at the apartment for a few weeks, so i was living out of suitcases. i arm the camera with my zoom lens and start searching my backpack for rolls of film. i pack about four rolls into my pocket and load a new roll into my camera as fast as i can. i head for the door and out to the elevator. my head is spinning with thoughts of what i might see. 15 minutes as i walked out of our apartment door, onto greenwich st, i could not believe what i was seeing. the entire street was covered in debris, most of it charred and unrecognizable, a complete mess. i began shooting what i saw right away. there were a lot of people on the street, some running, but most of them had stopped and were looking up from the street corners. as i made my way down the street, i noticed a suitcase lying in the middle of the street amongst other debris. i remember thinking that it was strange, but did not think it had come from the world trade center two blocks away. as i walked closer to the epicenter, the amount of debris lying around was increasing. i stopped at the corner of greenwich and albany, at the foot of the banker’s trust building to document with my camera what i was seeing on the ground. there was tiny pieces of pulverized concrete, sheetrock, insulation, burnt pieces of office paper, and some burnt clothing. i focused my lens carefully, took the shot and kept on going towards the wtc. i felt like i needed to photograph as much as possible, so i kept shooting what i saw. i noticed small specs of what looked like raw meat scattered all over the sidewalk and in the street, i tried to dismiss it, at the time, none of it made sense. i arrived at the corner of greenwich and liberty, and the scene of destruction was even worse. i was facing wtc 4, basically at the foot of the south tower, and the ground between the building and me was completely covered in an inch thick layer of what appeared to be insulation. there were small fires everywhere, little flames a few inches high that burned a deep reddish orange were scattered amongst the debris. the sight seemed totally surreal. i kept on moving. i walked past a large piece of what appeared to be human flesh lying on the sidewalk. i didn’t want to believe what i was seeing, but the evidence was irrefutable, there were body parts everywhere, deep red in color, scattered about on the street, most of them beyond recognition. the realization that people have died, lots of people, was beginning to set in. the effects of shock were starting to take over my body. i suppose to protect me from what i had just seen. i walked east on liberty street and i could now begin to see past the south tower. as kept walking, looking up, the north tower began to reveal itself, no longer hidden behind the south tower. i gasped at the sight before me. i don’t think i’ve gasped at the sight of anything in my life before, but there it was, a sight that almost made me drop to my knees. the entire top section of the north tower was completely engulfed in flames and thick, dark gray smoke. from where i was standing, now closer to church street, i could see an enormous gaping hole in the side of the tower. it appeared as though several floors were missing in the center, while smoke and fire were billowing out furiously. as my adrenaline kicked in, my mouth became completely dry. it was hard to breathe, but i kept on walking. i pointed my camera up at the tower and took a couple of shots. debris began to fall from the gaping hole in the side of the building, and people that were walking out of the north tower (wtc 1) and into the street, began to run. i now realized that my life was in serious danger, not the kind of danger you see in a movie, real danger. i remember hearing all those urban legends about how if a penny were to be dropped off of the top of one of those buildings, it would slice right through you. although i don’t know if that’s necessarily true, i wasn’t about to take my chances getting hit by something larger, so i began to run with everything i had. my eyes darted back and forth as my mind raced to find the most immediate shelter. i had to get out of the way of debris falling to the street, and i had to do it fast. i ran towards bank one plaza, a very tall, seventy story plus, black office building directly across the street from the world trade center. i saw a ramp that looked like it descended towards an indoor parking lot or loading dock. i ran down to the bottom of the ramp with such speed that my momentum caused me to slam into the metal garage door. when i looked next to me, there was another man standing there who must have had the same idea. we were both exhausted from running. the fear that i was experiencing at that moment was unlike any other. my heart was pounding through my chest and i was almost mad at myself for getting myself into this situation. i fought to catch my breath, made more difficult by the fact that there was seemingly no saliva in my mouth. moments ago i was fast asleep in my apartment, now i’m on the street running for my life amid chaos and destruction. the destruction wasn’t on the news, thousands of miles away in some perpetually war torn country. it was right in front of me, on church street, in lower manhattan. my mind is trying to process all of this, and there’s just no way. i needed to get out of there, but it almost seemed safer to just stay where i was. i was safe for the moment, and when you’re that scared, it’s good enough. the metal garage door for the loading dock was closed and in order to get out of there i was going to have to run about ninety feet towards the towers. i tucked myself in behind a thick, yellow, four foot steel pole. it was there to prevent trucks from backing up into the building, and there was a gap of about a foot where i had lodged my self between the pole and the wall. the building also jutted out about two feet over my head, and seemed like it could provide additional protection from a direct hit. from there, i fixed the lens of my camera up on the north tower. the thick, black smoke that was billowing out of the gaping hole near the top of the north tower was set in contrast against a clear blue early autumn sky. i could see flames burning inside the building furiously taking up several floors, a deep hue of reddish orange, the smoke and fire seemingly worse than just a few moments ago. i shot a few more pictures, occasionally putting the camera down to take in the enormous sight just a few hundred feet away from me. at this point, i’m thinking it was a massive bomb, not a commercial airliner that inflicted the damage. i remember thinking, “my god, how are they going to get up there and put that fire out.” the sound of sirens filled the air from near and far as fire crews from all over the city rushed in to try and help. i can’t even fathom what must have been going through the firefighter’s minds as they got closer to the burning buildings and saw just how bad the situation was, knowing they would have to go in there. every few seconds, a piece of debris would come crashing down into the plaza below, the sound echoing off of the surrounding buildings. then i came to a heart-wrenching realization, and i could feel myself starting to lose color. it was people, not debris that i could see falling from the upper floors, crashing into the ground below, and on the rooftops of the other surrounding world trade buildings. for a moment, i stopped taking photographs. i put the camera down and watched in horror as one after another jumped from what must have been eighty stories and higher. one image, which will be etched into my mind permanently, was seeing one man, dressed in a suit and tie, flailing his arms and legs so quickly as he fell, that it did not seem real, his tie flapping over his shoulder as he fell. i heard him scream all the way down, perhaps uncontrollably, and then heard the crash of his body landing on the roof of wtc 6. the crash was so loud that i thought that it couldn’t possibly be produced a human body. it was. the scene repeated itself over and over, as more people leapt from the highest floors of the burning tower. the man standing next to me was more vocal than me with what he was seeing. he kept yelling, “oh no, oh no,” every time we saw people jump. the anguish in his voice was painfully real. i tried to remain calm, but what i was seeing was simply too much to take in. i was swept with an overwhelming feeling of grief. i remember seeing people falling several at a time, maybe as many as half a dozen at once. a man and woman jumped while holding hands. god, what must have been going through their minds at that moment, i can’t even bring myself to think about it. i was standing there watching dozens and dozens of people fall to their death from dizzying heights. you want to help them but you know you can’t. i felt helpless standing there watching all of this unfold. i was beside myself, but the worst was yet to come. the time is 9:03 a.m. i’m standing there, at the bottom of this ramp, camera in hand watching the horror unfold, and i can hear the sound of a jet approaching. for a second it occurred to me that this situation had become so extremely serious, perhaps on a military level, that what i was hearing was one of our fighter jets coming in for support, that perhaps there was a greater danger that we didn’t know about. but there was something awry, the roaring of the jet got louder as grew rapidly closer. my view of the sky was slightly obstructed by the height of some of the surrounding skyline, so i could not see what was coming, but some people nearby on the street must have, because people began running and screaming. the sound of the jet now grew so thunderous, that it sounded as if the sky was being torn open. the sound grew even louder as it reverberated off of the surrounding buildings. i’m looking up at both towers. the sound roars to a crescendo as i can now see the silver underside of a very large passenger jet screaming through the air so fast that for a split second, i thought it had actually flown past the world trade center towers. it did not. it plunged into the south tower with such unbelievable speed and force, that parts of the plane came blasting through the other side, in flames, like an arrow piercing through an apple. again, i’m talking in split seconds here, it seemed as though there was a split second delay, and then i could see the bright orange glow of the explosion begin sweeping through the floors about midway up the tower, exploding out though the windows. a massive fireball extended outward, directly overhead consuming my entire field of view. i could feel the intense heat emanating from the fireball even from street level and i felt sure that i was witnessing the final moments of my life, in addition to the lives that had just been taken in that instant. the fireball rolled up the side of the tower and into the sky turning from bright orange, to black as the fuel burned away. below the ascending fireball, an ocean of debris came cascading down the side of the tower; steel, glass, pieces of the aircraft on fire, and countless sheets of office paper filled the air above me. i ducked for cover as the first wave of debris came crashing down in front of and around me. after the first wave of debris landed, about two-dozen people that were evacuating the north tower when the second plane struck came running down the ramp towards me to try and take cover. they were all dressed in their work clothes, some of them clutching their briefcases as they ran for their lives. they collectively slammed into the metal garage door as their momentum carried them. a few of the men at the front of the group began pounding their fists against the door, screaming “open up, open up,” the sound of desperation, urgency, and total panic was evident in their voice. i never forget the look on one man’s face as he looked back in horror as the south tower now stood burning and injured. it was a look of total horror; the kind of fear was on his face that only someone who is in absolute fear for his or her life can display. the people at the bottom of the ramp were beginning to crush due to panic, and now i was starting to fear for my own life. i knew that staying here with these people could put me in more danger. but the alternative was that i would have to run up the ramp, towards the burning towers as debris was still raining down from the tower above, onto the street. in an instant, i made the decision to run. i bolted up the ramp and out onto church street directly across from the world trade center. debris was falling off to my left and right, some of it on fire as it came down. the entire time it seemed to be hailing down small pieces of pulverized concrete that pelted my head and shoulders as i ran. i now know what it feels like to run for your life. it’s the kind of situation where your emergency responses take over and you’re just along for the ride. i ran with everything i had, down church street, looking for another spot to take shelter. the road was covered in even more debris than before, and i had to avoid several obstacles on the ground as i ran. i remember seeing a uniformed police officer standing in the middle of the church street, where it meets liberty and becomes trinity place, yelling at people to “get out of the street,” the sense of urgency and the look on his face is something i’ll never forget, as the sounds of debris hitting the ground behind me filled the air. i looked at the officer, whose uniform was littered with white specs of whatever was falling from the sky. i wonder if he made it out of there alive. i made a sharp right down thames street, figuring the height of the buildings in the narrow alley would shield me. i sprinted down the street for a few hundred feet towards greenwich, my heart pounding through my chest. i don’t remember too many of the thoughts crossing my mind in those moments, but i do remember wondering if i was going to make it out of there alive. it certainly didn’t seem like it at the time. i wondered if more attack were on the way. escape when i made it out onto greenwich street, there were people gathered out in front of my apartment building standing there with cameras. from where they were standing, their view of the towers was obstructed by the banker’s trust building. the street was now dark and overcast by the plume of thick, dark, smoke that now stretched outward over southern manhattan and beyond. as i ran by them, i said, “get inside, it’s not worth it, you’re going to get killed.” i didn’t even wait to see if they paid attention to me or not, i just ran into the apartment building and got on the elevator. when the doors closed, i fought to catch my breath. i couldn’t believe how out of shape i was. then again, i’ve never had to run like that before. the black t-shirt i was wearing was covered with white specks of concrete and sheetrock, and it was also all over my baseball cap. i took the elevator up to the seventh floor, and ran into the apartment. my mouth was so dry, that i could barely talk. i needed something to drink, badly. i went over to the fridge, and pulled out a container of iced tea and started downing it. the girls, barbara, natasha, and chani were huddled together on the couch. they had the dual experience of watching it live on television and hearing it right outside their own window. needless to say, they were really shaken. i tried to explain to them what i saw while i was catching my breath. then for the first time, i saw it replayed on television. the girls suggested walking to a friend’s apartment on chambers street in tribeca a few blocks away. i wasn’t exactly excited about the idea of going out onto the street again after what i had just witnessed. their friend amanda lived on the eighteenth floor of a high profile building, and i wasn’t about to take any more chances. . i knew i was safe right where i was for the moment, and i was just fine with keeping that way. i told the girls that i was staying put. after some convincing, barbara was able to talk me into walking over to their friend’s apartment with them. while they gathered some belongings, i grabbed my camera and an extra tee shirt and threw it in my backpack. i didn’t pack much; i guess at the time, i figured i wouldn’t be away from the apartment for more than a few hours. barbara asked me, “do you thing those buildings will come down?” i said, “those buildings won’t come down in a thousand years,” and assure her that the main thing we had to worry about, was if more attacks were on the way. i had to make some phone calls before i left. i called my girlfriend genevieve who was in toronto working on a tour, but only got her voicemail. my parents were in england, so i couldn’t reach them. i called my brother paul’s house, and got the answering machine. i left messages that said, “as of 9:15, i’m okay.” that’s all i could say, after all, i didn’t know what was going to happen next. we were now ready to go. barbara and natasha were both carrying small dogs. chani and i just had backpacks. i don’t recall the elevator ride down to the first floor. i think i was still in a state of shock. i do remember when we got to the street. to our left, there was a police officer blocking off greenwich street at carlisle with those blue “police line” barricades. barbara joked about wanting to go and see the hole in the buildings. i didn’t want to go anywhere near them, i felt like i had made a big enough mistake risking my life by going down there to try and photograph them. i suggested that we head south on greenwich street, make a right on rector, and head west to the running path that extended all the way up the west side of manhattan. from there we could walk quickly past the towers, and get to our friend’s apartment just a few blocks away on chambers street. that was the plan, but first, i was still ravenously thirsty. the adrenaline buildup had robbed me of so much fluid, that i needed more to drink. i stopped in to cordato’s deli, just a few doors down from our apartment to grab a soda, mountain dew, my usual weapon of choice. chani followed me in, and barbara and natasha waited outside with their two dogs. i paid for the soda, and walked outside. i looked to my left down greenwich street towards the towers. the most awful, thunderous, roar began filling the air once again. everyone in the street began running in all directions. i heard someone yell, “they’re coming down!” people were screaming and desperately trying to take cover, it was complete chaos. since i couldn’t see the towers, i imagined them falling like trees, and flattening us since we were less than 1500 feet away. i ran back into cordato’s deli thinking that this was it. the ground was shaking as the roar of the collapsing tower grew to a fever pitch, and let out a final boom as it slammed into the ground below, sending a shockwave through the ground. i believed that was baring witness to the final moments of my life, which was about to end violently under a terrible hailstorm of concrete, steel, and glass. there was no way out this time. as i ran desperately for cover, i thought to myself, this is ‘it’. but it never came. in the back of cordato’s deli, there was a small, dimly lit bar. several people, including myself, ran into the bar to take cover. a roaring avalanche of thick, choking ash came blasting down greenwich street, and quickly obscured the sun, leaving the outside in total darkness as it blew by the glass doors and windows. the deli and bar began to fill with ash as people who were caught out on the street opened the doors, trying desperately to get out of the street. someone ran to the back of the bar to check the back door, to see if it was open and i followed. the minute that person forced the back door open, we were greeted with a blast of choking ash. there was no escaping it. we were trapped. once again, i was beginning to panic, and i wasn’t alone. there were now about twenty or so people in the bar that had run in from the street. the scene inside the bar was one of total panic. the deli and bar began to fill with ash, and now i was sure we were all going to suffocate. in the midst of the panic, i noticed that chani had run into the bar behind me. i grabbed a rag that was lying on the bar, and put it over my face. chani grabbed some napkins. i remember seeing a young black woman, who was inconsolable, picking up a beer bottle and smashing it against a table. she was beside herself and was completely freaking out. there were a lot of women crying. the deli owner had come into the room, and tried to maintain order from behind the bar. he was yelling for everyone to “calm down,” and “we’re gonna be okay.” chani and i found a “safe” spot next to the bar, and ducked down low. i figured if we got down low, we could at least avoid suffocation. we looked out of the glass door that offered us a view to the glass door at the front of the deli, our only window to the outside world. it was total darkness. chani said to me, “what about barbara and natasha?” i just looked at her and said, “i don’t know, i hope they’re okay”. but in my mind i had feared the worst; that our two friends we left standing outside, each holding a small dog when the tower collapsed, had been swept away in the ensuing cloud of ash. the deli owner, still dressed in his white apron and hat, turned on the air vents, and the ash slowly started to clear out of the bar, much to our relief. he grabbed a remote control next to the cash register, and turned on the television. the news showed scenes all of lower manhattan enshrouded in a plume of ash. i couldn’t believe it. i thought they would never fall, but there it was, replaying on the news over and over. it truly felt like the end of the world. i was wondering what was next. more attacks? it seemed as though it was just the beginning. the people that had gathered in the bar gasped as they saw the collapse of the south tower on television. my initial instinct at the time was that the upper floors of the building had collapsed, leaving the lower section of the building in tact. i was absolutely shocked to see that there was nothing left of the south tower. nothing. it was completely gone. all that was left was a cloud of ash that shrouded all of lower manhattan like a volcanic eruption. sitting crouched down next to the bar, i began thinking of the logistics of the other tower falling. if it were to fall to the south, we would be crushed and our only hope would be if we weren’t instantly crushed. i started weighing all of the possibilities in my head. i started thinking about my family, my girlfriend. would i ever see these people again? it didn’t seem like it at the time. i hadn’t prayed in a long time, but as i sat there my back against the wall, knees to my chest underneath the bar, i clasped my fingers together so tightly that they almost hurt. i rested my head down upon my enclosed hands and i just kept saying quietly to myself over and over, “god please, just no more attacks, no more attacks.” every minute or so, chani and i would try to look through the glass doors to see if the cloud had cleared. after about fifteen minutes, it was still dark, but we could almost see across the street. chani looked at me and said, “do you think we’re going to make it out of here?” “i don’t know,” i said, “but we’re going to try.” i specifically remember there being two men sitting on stools at the bar and thinking that it was strange. i got the sense that they had been there drinking all morning. they just had their heads down, saying what a terrible day this was as they each held a freshly opened bottle of beer. suddenly, the terrible roaring sound started again. people began screaming. the ground began shaking and the lights browned off and on. as i looked up at the tv, it went blank. the sound filled the air like a long, drawn out clap of thunder in a violent summer thunderstorm. i remember feeling a terrible feeling coming over me, that feeling i was about to die right then and there, myself and all of these people. i braced myself as best i could and waited for whatever was coming our way. the collapse came to a halt with a final boom as the tower crashed right through the ground. seconds later, there was a loud whoosh, and another blanket of ash choked out whatever light that was beginning to filter back in to our view. and then, silence. we had somehow survived yet another collapse, but every one of us knew, that there would be many who did not. i immediately thought that tens of thousands must have died in that instant. a feeling of helplessness overwhelmed me as i sat crouched underneath the bar. a man picked up the pay phone, which was just across from where i was sitting. he called 911 and must have told them that there were people stranded in the back bar of cordato’s deli on greenwich street. at the time, i thought, “what good is that going to do?” the twin towers have just collapsed, thousands have probably died, what reason did they have for sending someone to rescue people trapped in the back of some deli? calling 911 seemed futile to me at a time like this. twenty minutes later, i was surprised to see about seven of new york’s bravest, come walking into the deli, covered from head to toe in ash. they came to the bar and opened the door. people started gathering to await their instructions. they were handing out dust masks to the people who didn’t have breathing protection. i put my backpack back on, and prepared myself to leave. chani followed close behind. i showed the fireman the rag i had from the bar, and he just nodded and handed a mask to chani. “where do you want us to go?” i asked in the general vicinity of the firemen. “walk towards the brooklyn bridge,” one of them replied. a line of people filed out of the deli and into the street. i remember thinking that i felt safer in the deli. i almost didn’t want to chance going out on the street if any more attacks were on the way. it was nearly pitch dark outside. we walked out onto greenwich street and into a seemingly different world. the air was filled with thick ash that i could see right in front of my face. if i removed the rag from my face, i would have inhaled quite a bit of ash with just one breath. all around was a blanket of ash; covering the street, cars, the awnings of buildings, which resembled fresh fallen snow. i stepped onto the sidewalk and my feet made a “poof” sound in the ash as i walked along. the amber glow of the streetlight reflected off of the ash, creating an almost serene setting. all around, it was almost absolutely silent. i looked down greenwich street towards the trade center, nothing but blackness. i looked back towards the deli, and everyone had scattered in different directions. it seemed that chani and i were the only ones that heeded the firemen’s directions. chani fell a little bit behind and i raised my hand over my head so that she could see me. it was hard to see, as it was as dark as any night. she implored me to wait for her; i think she was afraid i was going to leave her there. she was struggling with a heavy computer bag that she had brought with her from the apartment. i waited for her for her to catch up, and told her we needed to keep moving. i felt like we were soldiers walking perilously through a battle zone. i feared that more attacks could be on the way. i wanted to be prepared to take evasive action should anything else happen. the streets immediately around the world trade center were almost empty. i didn’t see anyone else around. the few people that were on the street were dust covered and seemed to be in a daze, wandering aimlessly. a lone fire truck passed us with flashing lights on, but without sirens. it cruised by us almost silently except for the whining of the diesel engine as it drove through the ash, stirring it up into the air as it rushed by us. we covered our faces and pressed on. we continued east on rector street, passing trinity church, an old, gothic looking church with a graveyard in the back, that’s been in new york for hundreds of years. i remembered that you could see the trade center towers from the church from a photograph that i had taken there a few years before. all i could see now was blackness. because of the smoke that obscured all of the early morning sky, i couldn’t make out whether or not there was anything left standing. even in the horror of the collapse, i couldn’t believe that the towers could both be entirely gone. the church and graveyard were completely covered in office paper and ash. as we passed the church, the bells began tolling, piercing an already eerie silence. looking back, i realized the bells were probably indicating that it was 11 a.m. nonetheless, it was an eerie reminder of the lives lost in just a couple of hours. i thought that we must have lost at least 25,000 people in the attacks and subsequent collapses. your mind goes through some strange processes as at a moment like this as it tries to filter all of the overwhelming information coming in. i remember a quote from “star wars” that kept echoing in my head as we walked through the silence. it’s the scene where obi-wan is teaching luke skywalker the ways of the force aboard the “millennium falcon.” luke is honing his light saber skills with a laser firing, dodging, orb. obi wan suddenly sits down when he is overwhelmed by a disturbance in “the force” he has felt. luke asks obi wan “what’s wrong?” obi wan says, “it seems as though a million voices cried out and were suddenly silenced.” at that moment, the evil “death star” blew up an entire planet, wiping out countless lives in an instant. although it may seem silly now, this quote from a movie that i revered as child echoed in my head that morning. i thought that the thousands of people that waited helplessly, high in the towers, no lay silent below burning heap of steel and concrete. it was impossible to process how much had happened in such a short time. i was also afraid of what could have been coming next. it’s the kind of fear puts you in a heightened state of awareness that i can only imagine a soldier after being engaged in battle might have. the kind of fear you can feel all the way to your fingertips, numbing the rest of your body. it was no longer a feeling of being “scared,” it was something different. i was fearful, but i was ready to do whatever it takes to survive. after passing trinity church, chani and i headed east on wall street. i was just hoping to catch a glimmer of sunlight. still, nothing, the air was still thick with ash and smoke that obscured the warm september sun. we came to the new york stock exchange, at this time of morning, it the trading floor should be teeming with day traders, signaling with their hands, stock trades taking place. across the street from the stock exchanges is the statue of george washington, on the steps of the federal building where he took the presidential oath of office as first president of the united states. he then walked over to st. john’s church, which ironically was directly across from the world trade center to attend mass. george washington’s statue, usually adorned with pigeons, was covered from head to toe in a thin layer of ash. there was not a soul in sight, which only contributed to the eeriness of this surreal scene. the new york stock exchanged seemed to me like it would an obvious target for terrorists. as we walked past, i almost felt like tip toeing by and holding my breath until we to safety. after safely passing the stock exchange, chani and i could begin to see a little bit of daylight filtering through the smoke and ash. seeing this began to lift my spirits. through the smoke i could see the south street seaport, fdr drive, and brooklyn across the river. i was never so happy to see brooklyn in all of my life. we could also see other groups of people walking out of the area, quietly and orderly. i felt the fear begin to lift a little. i knew that even if we were attacked again, we could at least hide under the elevated roadway of the fdr drive. looking back on the area we had just walked out of, i was amazed at how thick and dark the smoke was. i felt safe enough to pull my camera out of my backpack again and start taking some pictures. i was amazed at how quietly and orderly the evacuation from downtown was taking place. scores of people, dressed in their daily office attire, in various states of filthiness, walked quietly and calmly north beneath the fdr drive. the brooklyn bridge was now in sight, and i could see that literally thousands of people were crossing the bridge into brooklyn. chani asked if i wanted to attempt to cross the bridge into brooklyn. it didn’t seem like such a great idea. i imagined yet another hijacked plane thundering up the east river, less than a hundred feet above the water, bisecting the bridge and killing everyone on it. i told chani we should probably keep walking north, further into manhattan. i didn’t want to chance getting caught in the crowd trying to cross the brooklyn bridge. chani and i walked north into chinatown. i’ve never seen so many people out in the street in new york at once in all the time i’ve been there. there were throngs of people walking around on the streets. i soon realized that chani and i were the only ones with ash on us. people stared at us as we walked by. i can’t imagine what they must have been thinking. i don’t know if they were afraid to talk to us. chani and i made our way up henry street, deep into chinatown. i was amazed to see that people that lived in the area had already set up water coolers on the sidewalk outside their apartment buildings. we finally decided at st. teresa’s church. inside, it looked more like a regular apartment house, converted to a church. a few people waited to use the phone. there was a palpable sense of compassion in the air. the people who had opened their doors were there to help us, selflessly. chani waited for the phone and i headed up and old flight of wooden stairs to the bathroom. when i came down, the phone was available. i attempted to call my girlfriend, genevieve, who was working on a concert tour, and was in toronto. all i got was her voicemail. i imagined her hearing about what happened, and not being able to get touch with me. i didn’t want to take advantage of the church’s kindness, but there was one more call i needed to make. i called my brother’s house in new jersey. i just needed to talk to someone, and let that person hear my voice. someone i knew needed to hear that i was alright, at least for now. i knew my parents were in england, and wondered if they’d seen what happened on tv. i imagined them frantically trying to get in touch with me. someone needed to know that i was still breathing. my damn cell phone battery was dead, and they probably wouldn’t have been able to get through to me anyway due to all of the lines being overwhelmed with calls. i was able to get through to my brother’s house. my sister in law’s father answered. i don’t know if he even knew what was going on or not. i told him to let everyone know that i was okay. i told him to get in touch with my parents. i’m sure he could hear the desperation in my voice. upon leaving the church, i couldn’t believe how thirsty i was. i downed several cups of water, and was still as thirsty as i’d ever been. it was reassuring to see how many people had opened their doors to complete strangers. residents had set up tables on almost every block that we passed, offering water, a phone, use of the bathroom, or a place to just stop for a minute. chani and i continued across delancy street into the lower east side up to houston street. a normally traffic packed houston street was practically empty except for pedestrians and the occasional emergency vehicle racing by. it was now nearing noon, i was hungry, thirsty, and completely exhausted. i wanted to find out about getting a ferry to new jersey. i knew that the ferries left from the west side highway from some of the piers. there was still quite some distance for me to cover, so chani and i decided to stop in a bar or restaurant to get something to eat, and just stop walking for a while. i almost felt like lying down on the sidewalk, i was that wiped out. chani was still trying to contact our friends barbara and natasha. we were separated from them while they waited for us outside the deli when the first collapse began. we hadn’t heard from them in two hours, and feared the worst.