September 11 Attacks: The Illusions That Survived

A plane flown by murderers swept out of a legendarily bright blue sky. I was at an equities desk in midtown Manhattan, tapping messages on my Bloomberg terminal, occasionally glancing at CNBC. All was normal until it wasn’t. The images on the TV screen were business until they weren’t. Smoke pouring out of a scarred World Trade Center tower. Something had torn into it, but what, and why? A small plane? An accident? Guesses from a different era.

Then the pause we did not know was a pause, filled by staring at the TV, CNN now, and, for me, a call across the Atlantic to reassure my parents. They knew I went to business meetings in the WTC.

About the Author

Andrew Stuttaford

Andrew Stuttaford is the editor of National Review's Capital Matters.

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A plane flown by murderers swept out of a legendarily bright blue sky. I was at an equities desk in midtown Manhattan, tapping messages on my Bloomberg terminal, occasionally glancing at CNBC. All was normal until it wasn’t. The images on the TV screen were business until they weren’t. Smoke pouring out of a scarred World Trade Center tower. Something had torn into it, but what, and why? A small plane? An accident? Guesses from a different era.

Then the pause we did not know was a pause, filled by staring at the TV, CNN now, and, for me, a call across the Atlantic to reassure my parents. They knew I went to business meetings in the WTC.