9/11 Remembered

  by John Northrop

What happened to our pledge to “Never Forget”?

Photo from Concordville

It feels like I am the only one who was actually working in the city that day 10 years ago.

Could this be true? Could the current workforce in New York City actually be too young to have witnessed this tragedy?

It is apparently so at my job.

I was the only one who felt an eery similarity to 9/11 during the recent earthquake. Could I really be the only one in my workplace who remembers?

I certainly remember …

I remember the normalcy of that Tuesday morning. September. Fall. Beautiful.

I remember how blue the sky looked when I transferred from the LIRR to the #7 subway at Hunterspoint Avenue.

I remember I was working at Pfizer as a consultant for Intrasphere Technologies.

I remember my colleague Sebastian Payne rushing into the office I shared with colleagues Jeff Chin and Bev Brown saying “a plane hit the World Trade Center”.

I remember asking if it was a Cessna, and Seb replying, “no...a big fucking plane”.

I remember trying to get to CNN, FOX News and MSNBC and not being able to. Traffic to the sites were overwhelming.

I remember rushing to the Conference Room to check it out on TV.

I remember the room being packed with eyes glued to CNN.

I remember us watching in horror as the second plane hit.

I remember the ladies in the room crying over loved ones who worked in the area.

I remember thinking about Intrasphere folks at our home office at 100 Broadway. Less than three blocks from the Trade Center.

I remember trying to make a phone call but couldn’t. Phone lines were out or jammed.

I rememebr getting emails from friends and family asking if I was OK.

I remember being a newlywed having just gotten married less than six months prior.

I remember emailing my brother Frank, saying call Caitlin, tell her I am OK and I love her. Email was not so common in every work place back then, and she did not have it.

I told Frank I loved him too and I would be in touch.

I remember an email from the IST home office to go home. They were evacuating.

I remember hearing their was a third plane that crashed into the Pentagon.

I remember watching the South Tower fall.

I remember Jeff showing me his wedding pictures taken on a downtown rooftop with the Towers in the background.

I remember hearing all subway and commuter transportation had been suspended.

I remember hearing their was a 4th plane that crashed in Pennsylvania.

I remember hearing the passengers tried to retake the plane. “Let’s Roll”.

I remember walking from 42nd and 3rd towards Penn Station with colleague Chris Donato.

I remember looking south down the aveneues we passed and seeing nothing but billowing black smoke.

I remember seeing everyone out on the street. Nowhere to go. Nothing to do. Pale, white faces. No one moving at all. Subways not running. Buses not running. Millions of people in Times Square watching the news ticker and the jumbotron. Hoping for some positive news. Every electronics store had the coverage on. Playing and replaying the incident. Over, and over, and over.

Fear. Anxiety. Pain. Terror.

I remember Penn Station was closed. There were no trains coming in or out and they were not letting anybody inside.

I remember feeling trapped on the island.

Fear. Anxiety. Pain. Terror.

I remember walking two blocks to Mustang Harry’s.

I remember having a few ice cold Bud drafts. Strong. American. Proud.

I remember smoking a lot of butts. Marlboro. Strong. American. Proud.

We could still smoke inside then. Nobody was going outside. No one left the television screens.

I remember images of people covered in ashes in soot. Confused. Disoriented. Shocked.

I remember Mayor Giuliano. Leading. Addressing the public. Letting us know he was on the case.

Fear. Anxiety. Pain. Terror.

Hope.

I remember for the first time hearing the names Mohammad Atta, Osama bin Laden, al Qaeda and Cantor Fitzgerald.

I remember someone coming into the bar saying LIRR was running one train at 2:30 to Ronkonkoma.

I remember how much I loved my wife. Constantly.

I remember calling Frank and telling him to pick me up in Deer Park.

I remember that train. Packed. People crowded in the aisles, having no issues with rubbing against eachother.

Fear. Anxiety. Pain. Terror.

I remember the cheers of euphoria from all passengers when the train exited the tunnel on the Queens side. We were off the island.

Hope.

I remember smiling at the site of Frank’s big blue van in the Deer Park parking lot, and the giant bear hug he gave me when I met him.

I remember piling people into the van and driving them to Northport train station. We didn’t know them at all, but wanted to help.

I remember getting home to an empty apartment. Lonely. Still scared. Shocked.

I remember the answering machine blinking furiously from so many messages. My mom. Caitlin’s mom. My sister Judy. My sister Laura. Friends. Family. Love.

I remember when Caitlin got home. Her work let her out early.

I remember hugging her stronger and longer than I ever had before and probably have since.

I remember kssing her several times, all over her face. Hugging some more.

She was shaking. I was shaking. I was safe. Tears of joy.

I remember the Intrasphere office was closed for a while.

I remember joy that everyone was safe and accounted for.

I remember the 100 Broadway evacuation stories.

I remember the group therapy session for all Intrasphere employees.

Fear. Anxiety. Pain. Terror. Trauma.

I remember Greg Marston and I being extremely angry.

I remember being sick of moments of silence and wanting a moment of extreme noise.

I remember first hearing the term Ground Zero. And not liking it.

I remember the concerts. FDNY, NYPD, PAPD.

I remember The Who - “We Won’t Get Fooled Again”.

I remember wanting someone to do something. Someone to say something.

I remember George W. Bush on the bull horn. He heard us. He heard me.

I remember the U.S. Open continued. I remember the World Series continued.

New York moved forward as best as it could.

Hope.

As I look out the conference room of my current employer, 10 years later, I can see the rising of the new “Freedom Tower” or 1 World Trade Center, or whatever it will be called. What took so long? The greed over it disgusts me. The politics over it disgust me. The wars over it disgusts me. The continued fears disgust me.

I have hope for the future of this city and this country, and this world - that were all turned upside down on that day.

But I do feel compelled to ask if anyone else shares these feelings?

I remember.

Do you remember?

I will “Never Forget”.