World Trade Center continued
We both called our wives. Kevin's wife was in class - she teaches in New Jersey - and she had her cell phone off. My wife was in Louisville, at work at Kentucky Fried Chicken Corporation. She didn't answer her cell, so I called the receptionist and had her paged. When I finally got to talk to her, she didn't know anything about the WTC. I told her to turn on Fox News or CNN and to call me back. It would be the last time I was able to talk to her in almost 36 hours.
Just as traffic starting moving, I saw a large fireball erupt from the side of the tower, lower than the first. I remarked that the whole building was blowing up, secondary to the aircraft collision. Sadly, I later learned that the fireball I saw was the second airplane striking the South Tower.
We exited onto Hudson Parkway and headed south toward Midtown, exited somewhere around 79th and headed to Lincoln Center. Kevin parked his car behind Lincoln Center and we walked to the Met, where he works. Kevin went inside and I decided to wander around New York, maybe have a cup or two of Joe, before my meeting with my cousin.
While I waited for the lights to change, I watched hundreds of emergency vehicles, police and firefighters roared by, heading Downtown to meet their destiny. The only noises were the screaming and wailing of thousands of sirens and honking horns from firetrucks. Each car slowed slightly as it passed and I saw each passenger clearly. Their eyes were wide with fear. They didn't appear to be speaking to each other. I am still haunted by that vision. One man beside me laughed and said, "must be giving away donuts someplace."
I turned to him and told him what had happened. He said, "I'm sorry - I didn't know."
When the light changed, I went across the street. I heard people complaining that their cell service wasn't working. There was no sign of panic. There's a hotel at Columbus Avenue and Broadway and I went inside to see if there was a television anywhere and I found one on the second floor bar. There weren't many people around, just a bartender and two older fellows. The television was on and I sat down with them to watch.
The stories they were telling were confused, yet they tried to tell what they could. They were talking about the airplane that struck the Pentagon, talking about the President and talking about an airplane that was missing and had apparently gone down somewhere in Pennsylvania. My cell phone wasn't working so I asked to use the phone at the bar. It wasn't working, either; all lines were busy. I tried to call my cousin; I tried to call my wife; I tried to call my brother. Nothing.
It was freaky. I felt very traumatized. The bartender said the word had gone out for businesses to close and for people to leave the City. So I went outside again and waited for my brother to come outside. People passing by were now frightened. I began to worry about a mass panic that never materialized - people were too shocked to panic. Here was mighty New York City, the greatest city in the world and an icon to stoicism, knocked to her knees by a few tattered, Arab freaks. What irony. I started walking around that part of town, aimlessly.
A huge crowd had gathered at one of the north/south intersections, watching the towers burn. All their faces were white with horror; most had tears streaming down their faces. Some cried out loud, most weren't speaking at all. I looked for a fraction of a second, then turned away. I couldn't bring myself to watch. The sirens grew silent and everyone screamed as the first tower crumbled in on itself. I felt sick at my stomach.
When my cell phone rang, I grabbed it like a starving man grabbing for food. It was Kevin. The Met was closing and we needed to get out of town as quickly as possible. We met at, I think, Tower Records and ran to our car. Kevin had been in NYC for almost 20 years and he knew the city well. Taking only backroads and side streets, we ended up back on the Hudson Parkway and headed north. I don't know which route he followed, but I recall crossing the Tappan Zee and spending a lot of time in Connecticut. There was still no cell service.
It only took us 5 hours to get back to Kevin's home in New Jersey. As we drove up the hill toward his house, yellow ribbons had already begun to appear on large maples and oaks.
