9/11 My story

Today, I found a blog post that I just didn’t really have the strength to post when it was written.  It was just too raw…. Too personal…. I needed time.  But now I think it’s appropriate to make sure it’s on my blog post list and that I share the story not only for any friends or family that might see it, but mostly for me.

I had never been to NYC when I moved there.  I lived in a small town close to Houston in Texas when I moved to NYC.  I was in awe and in love with this giant behemoth of a city.  I had just been through a change in my life, making a new page and taking a very scary step forward.

I was working in midtown Manhattan and Charles had driven us into the city that day.  At the time, you could take your car on the Staten Island Ferry so that is how we entered lower Manhattan that day. I didn’t realize it then, but it would be the last time anyone was allowed to use the ferry to get a car across to the city and my own personal strength would be tested.  We were running late and if Charles took me all the way to midtown Manhattan, he would be very late for his job in the West Village. He asked  if I thought I could get the rest of the way to work by myself by taking a nearby subway. 

I must confess at this point that when it came to public transportation, I was a neophyte.  I had never even been on a train, bus or cab much less a subway.  Charles had to teach me how to use it and I was still in the baby steps level.  He pointed to a building, telling me to take the #4 train,  the light changed, people started honking so I assured him I would be fine and hurriedly got out of the car. 

The minute the door slammed I realized that I had no idea where I was, no idea where any subway was or how to find one.  At the time, I was working for a friend of a friend and she couldn’t stand me.  I really needed to keep that job and being late would be one more thing she could hold against me.  All the stress of the move, the strangers and unfamiliar surrounding just crashed in on me and I began to cry.  Out of nowhere, a man came up from behind me, touched my elbow gently and said, “You look upset, can I help?” 

With with teary eyes and in the middle of a total melt down, I sobbed to this perfect stranger, “I’m so lost, I’m supposed to get a subway but I don’t know which one or even where a subway IS.  My boss hates me and she will fire me if I’m late and I really need my job.” 

Then I looked at him, horrified to realize I was sobbing out my life to a perfect stranger and a New Yorker at that.  Weren’t they known to be rude and impatient?  I finally remembered my manners, so grateful that this wonderful man had offered to come to my rescue. I sniffled out my name, saying that I was so happy to meet him and thanked him for his offer to help.  He just smiled and said, “Come on, well get you there in plenty of time.”   Once he knew where I was going, he figured out the subway I needed and took me to the subway station.

The subway station was actually INSIDE the building that Charles had pointed out.  I had never seen a subway stop inside a building before so no wonder I couldn’t find it.  We raced for the doors that miraculously led to what I would never have guessed to be a subway entrance.  I had literally been standing right beside it for the last ten minutes as I cried. To make matters worse, in my disheveled  and embarrassed state, I couldn’t find my subway pass, so he pulled his out and swiped as he gave a little push through the turnstile.  Once on the other side, I turned to say thank you and he was gone.  Just gone.  Where was he?  I needed to thank him!  So, to the guy that took the time to calm a strange crying woman and help her get where she was going…. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I guess you are probably figuring out by now that the building I was standing by was The World Trade Center and the subway that I entered was crushed soon after I left it as the tower came down.  The saving grace for me at first, was that I had no idea that I had been at the site of the attack.  As I said earlier, I am impaired in this way, thank goodness for GPS technology.  Charles did know where he left me though and he was worried sick.  It was a week or so before he realized that I didn’t know I’d been there only minutes before the first plane hit and told me.

Once at work, Charles called to tell me that a plane had hit the World Trade Center.  We all thought it was an idiot that had caused a terrible disaster. But then the second plane hit and all hell broke loose.  Everyone was afraid and I was too.  I usually would go to Grand Central Station to get to downtown Manhattan and then take the ferry back to Staten Island.  My boss said I should leave so I could take the subway but I had just watched the towers fall and crush everything under them and all of New York was afraid that more attacks were coming.  No way was I going to the next most famous place in New York known to be a hub for thousands of people so I flatly refused her suggestion.

She finally sighed and said, “I guess I have to take you with me or Debbie will never forgive me.”  I remembered thinking, “Gee thanks!”

She was going to New Jersey, so we started making our way to the river to cross over.  Everyone was trying to get out and we were trying to get on a bus too.  I inadvertently let a few people in front of us.  She grabbed me by my shoulders and said, “This is no time to be a god-damned Southern bell.  Stop letting people in front of you!”  She might have been mean, but she got us on that bus and ahead of hundreds of people waiting on the river to take a boat across so I guess I have her to thank for that.

It irritated her that I went back to thank the boat captain and his crew but I knew they were staying on the job when they probably had family and friends they wanted to see to.  I wanted them to know that I realized their service and caring

It was 3:00 am in the next morning before Charles was able to figure out a way to get across to New Jersey to get me and find a way home.  Manhattan shut down all bridges onto the island but Charles found a way.  The next week that we spent hunkered down in our little basement apartment was unforgettable in so many ways.  The saddest one being, that Staten Island was home to a great majority of the firemen and policemen that lost their lives that day. Their funerals were ongoing and heartbreaking.  To this day, bagpipes still bring on such a feeling of despair as I remember the grieving families.

So today, if someone mentions to me the coldness of New Yorkers, I have speak up for them and say it isn’t true… a New Yorker probably saved my life.