Rest In Peace
This was the view I shared with so many that day. The Towers were so big you could see them from all the way up on 86th and Broadway where I was, helping my friend who was recovering from surgery. As I got ready to leave for work they thought maybe a helicopter had mistakenly hit the Tower. I left the apartment and hopped on the bus, something in my gut told me not to take the subway. Cell phones started ringing off the hook. Frantic calls coming in. Both Towers? Airplanes? The Pentagon? We're being attacked! Traffic at a standstill. The lady sitting in front of me sobbing, her husband worked in the Towers. Oh my god. Get off the bus, run to the ATM take out the maximum limit, try to call my friend and let him know I'm coming back. All cell lines are now blocked. Heart racing. Get back to the apartment and watch out the window and on the television as the world as I know it crumbles. Clients, friends, friends of friends, people you never knew, gone. Everyone knew someone or someone that knew someone. Not one of us was unaffected.
It's the smell haunts me. Every year as I watch them read the names at the memorial service I smell it, burning in my nostrils. The acrid stench of death. Death of so many innocent victims . Death of the towers. The death of innocence.
I'll never forget.