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friend called at 5:30 A.M. This is someone who knows that I'm never
likely to be getting up at that hour. Yet, he was a D.C. friend
who tried to get a hold of me to find out if I was OK.
After only sleeping for about three-and-a-half hours, it took a
few seconds to register. Why was he calling me? Why wouldn't I be
all right?
Oh, God. That's right.
After being inundated with the images all day, waking up to the
unbelievable reality is still — unbelievable.
I live in Brooklyn, off of Flatbush Avenue — the main artery
running from the Manhattan Bridge, which is the principal entrance
point into Lower Manhattan for many New Yorkers. My building is
just a couple miles from the bridge, so the World Trade Center can
be seen from my apartment. Or at least it could.
Today, I look outside my window and see a dull lazy cloud of white
smoke lingering on the other side of the river. As unnerving as
that may be, it is nothing compared to the pitch-black column of
smoke that filled the sky yesterday morning for about 90 minutes.
That column disappeared when the twin towers collapsed, replaced
by a mountain of sulfur, dust, and debris. The acridity remained
in the air for hours later. It subsided for a brief time, only to
restart again as World Trade Center No. 7 — a shorter 47-storey
building — which had burned for hours finally went down. Ironically,
that was the home to the city's thought-to-be-impregnable Crisis
Control Center.
One thing we learned: The Internet infrastructure was what it was
cracked up to be. Cell phones were useless in the New York area
for hours. Trying to call into the D.C. area — even from landlines
— got you, "All circuits are busy." But, e-mail worked,
enabling us to connect with and hear from loved ones. Of course,
it also, sadly, permitted bad news to come through too. A CNN producer
alerted me shortly after 1 P.M. that Barbara Olson was on the plane
that hit the Pentagon.
Suddenly, the events of the day that were so geographically close
became emotionally close. While trying to track down a New York
friend, I had to pass along the news about Barbara to a former colleague
of hers.
September 11, 2001 is now forever the demarcation line. How odd
it was picking up any morning edition of any newspaper yesterday
after 9 A.M. Barely a few hours old, they were completely, totally
obsolete when the second plane hit the second tower. That was the
one — the second — that completely changed our reality.
One allowed us, for a brief moment to think some, awful, horrible
accident had happened. But, that second one — jetting from
the right on TV screens nationwide — hitting the other tower?
No, that defied any possible rationalization
It's all Before 9-11-01 and After 9-11-01 now.
Lockboxes? Social Security surpluses? What do those words mean
now? And, meaning no disrespect to a California doctor and his wife,
there are now hundreds if not thousands of families also wondering
where there loved ones are — and they have no immoral congressman
to help the media remain focused on their pain.
Before 9-11-01. After 9-11-01
We wake to a new day every day. But this day, we wake to a new
world.
And it is a very scary one.
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