A friend forwarded to me today the e-mail I’d sent to some friends that morning three years ago. It’s startling to me to read this now. Notice the date and time stamp. I’d just walked in out of the conflagration:

Subject: Unbelievable Date: Tuesday, September 11, 2001 10:09 AM I’m not going to tie up the phone lines long, but I wanted to tell you that we’re okay. My dad phoned this morning to say, “The World Trade Center is on fire. Go look out your front door.” You can see them clearly across the harbor from our front door. “Oh my God! Julie come see!” I said. I ran down to grab my reporter’s bag, knowing I’d have to go over to the fire. At that point, we didn’t know what caused the fire. Then, while downstairs, I heard a tremendous explosion and screams. I ran out to the street. “A plane just hit the second tower!” a man screamed. I knew the subways would be out, so I decided to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge to get to the scene. There was a steady stream of people sobbing, coming out of downtown over the bridge boardwalk. I interviewed several of them. They told absolutely horrifying stories of seeing people jump out of windows from high floors, their ties and coats flailing as they plunged to their deaths. One woman’s knees were bleeding from having been pushed down by the terrified crowd. “The Pentagon has been bombed!” a man screamed. I made it to the last pillar of the Brooklyn Bridge before going into downtown. I ran into a colleague of mine. She said, “We better not go over there. Those towers are going to blow up.” One minute later, the south tower fell in on itself. I nearly fainted. It … well, I can’t describe it now. I’m too shaken. Everybody on the bridge screamed. Some collapsed in tears. A woman started to vomit. My knees went weak, and a huge plume of soot and smoke barrelled toward us. I decided to turn around and go home. A stout black woman, covered with sweat, screamed to no one in particular, “Every knee shall bow and every tongue shall confess! It ain’t over people!” An F-16 fighter flew overhead. The cloud of soot reached us, and it was like being in a volcanic eruption. Everybody had to breathe through their shirts. Cell phones didn’t work. I rushed home to see Julie. When I opened the door, she was sobbing and shaking. Now I’m learning that the second tower has collapsed, and the Pentagon has been bombed. The sky outside is black with soot and smoke. There is no World Trade Center anymore. I can’t believe we’re seeing this. It’s war, you know. R.