The year 2000 commenced with fireworks and celebrations. Sounds of glasses filled with champagne clinked as the new century began, with hearts filled with aspirations and eyes reflecting new dreams. Leaving behind my consulting assignment, I started a new project in the World financial towers. I used the New Jersey Path train for my daily commute to New York city. The Path train used to drop me off at the World Trade Center, and from there it was a short walk to my office building. One day I discovered a short cut which led me to a portion of the tower that housed a day care center. I caught a glimpse of some bubbly little toddlers with their noses pressed against large glass windows waving at me. I made sure to cross their paths every morning. Their smiles and their tiny waving hands brought sunshine to my daily routine.
Somewhere deep in my heart I always yearned to be back at my old work home. So, in January of 2001 I joined back. I was welcomed by my old friends and felt at home again. I slowly settled down again at my cozy little seat on the 35th floor. Eight months passed by swiftly.
September 10th 2001 – Work from home was not a reality then. It was past 6pm, but my mind was engrossed in a new problem I was trying to solve. I hated the idea of leaving it behind. Grudgingly I packed my things and left for home. On my way back and while I prepared dinner, the solution to the puzzle was slowly taking shape. I was eager to get back to office and try it out the next day.
September 11th 2001 - I woke up, got my son ready for school and dropped him off. Then I rushed to the path station to catch my train at 8:45am. As I started coming down the flight of stairs, I heard my train to WTC entering the platform. But by the time I reached the platform the doors closed, and the train left. Never mind I thought, the next one would be there within a few minutes. But almost immediately there was an announcement that the WTC station was shut down due to a fire and there would be no more trains heading to that station. That was not something I had anticipated. But there was no going back for me. I had to get to work somehow. The thought of reaching there through mid-town New York dawned on me. As the thought passed by my mind, the train to 33rd street entered the other side of the platform. Without second thoughts I stepped in. Once I reached the 33rd street station, I switched to the NY subway.
As I slowly settled down on my seat, I heard a couple of passengers talking about an accident that had happened 20 minutes back at the World trade center. A lady in her late fifties with a serene face joined in the conversation. She said that her daughter who was in the late twenties worked on the 80th floor. She couldn’t reach her on the phone. So, she decided to head out to the location to make sure she was ok. The calmness in her voice astonished me.
A group of passengers boarded the train at the Chambers Street station. They all looked very disturbed. I sighted a familiar face amongst the crowd. That was Marina, a close colleague from my previous consulting job. She was almost in tears and looked distraught. Oblivious to what was happening above the ground, I excitedly called out her name. She looked at me terrified! As recognition dawned on her she gave me a faint smile and pulled me to the seat next to her. I asked her how she was, and she started telling me in a very shaky voice about some bodies falling in front of her. I had no idea what she was talking about, but my eyes started searching for the lady who was looking for her daughter. She was gone!
I sat there holding Marina’s hands as she sobbed softly. All of a sudden, the lights went out. The train shook as if we were in the middle of an earthquake and everything came to a standstill. Marina let out a loud wail and started crying inconsolably. I sat there frozen. Time stood still, pitch darkness surrounded us, and the sound of people crying stabbed at my heart. After an endless wait, the lights came on. There was an announcement asking everyone to walk to the front of the train. Tears turned to sighs of relief and people lined up quietly. As we reached the front of the train, we were helped down one by one. I started following the others as they walked on the track and after a few minutes, sunshine flooded into the tunnel. We climbed up a short flight of stairs. Marina still teary-eyed waved goodbye to me.
I realized that I was standing outside the White hall station and started walking towards Water Street. Although this was a street on which I walked every day, everything seemed so unfamiliar. It looked as if we had snow in September, only difference was that the snow was black, and the air was smoky. The ground and the cars were covered with a black powder. Although I had been calm until then, fear gripped me suddenly. I saw a police lady standing there and asked her “What happened here?”. Without looking at me, she replied, “Don’t ask any questions. Just keep walking!”. I saw the street crowded with people, emotionless, walking quietly as if there was no destination at hand.
My office building at last! The very sight of it brought solace to my heart. Gleaming rays of sunshine peeking at me from the different corners of the structure felt as if it was welcoming me with open arms. I entered the building and pressed the elevator button. As the elevator door opened, my product manager, Gail appeared magically. On seeing me she said, “Try to go home, no tall building is safe right now!”. I had no idea what she meant. I wasn’t carrying a cell phone. All I knew was that something terrible had happened. It was over two hours since I had left my house and I had a feeling that my family must be worried. So, I had to go up to my seat and call home. I found my floor completely empty. Only sign of life was a very concerned voice on my answering machine from one of my best friends who lived in California. I called home, but I could hardly recognize the voice that I heard on the other side. It was my husband saying in a very shaky voice, “Thank God you are ok!”. I asked him what had happened. He explained to me that 2 planes had hit the 2 towers of WTC, and all trains running between New York and New Jersey were shut down.
I sat there wondering what I should do next. Some inkling made me think of going up to the 37th floor, the floor that housed the HR department. The whole building looked deserted, and I hoped I could find someone there. As the elevator door to that floor opened, I could hear a lot of voices. Relieved, I entered the glass doors and discovered a big crowd of people gathered in front of a TV screen. I couldn’t believe what I witnessed on the screen at that moment. I saw one of the towers come crumbling down. The sister tower was no longer standing next to it. It was then that I could connect the dots. The black snow was nothing but soot and cement that was produced after the giant fell. My hands and feet became cold as I realized that I was under the ground, very close to the first tower that had collapsed. That explained the earthquake-like feeling that I had experienced. I stood there frozen. The news then shifted to another portion of the story. The third plane crashed into the Pentagon. I then realized the context of Gail’s statement and why she had asked me to stay away from tall buildings. At the corner of my eyes, I saw a man in his 60s covered with soot sitting on the floor. A few people surrounded him, giving him juice and water. He worked in one of the towers and was telling his story about how he had escaped.
None of the people I saw around me looked familiar. My mind was completely muddled up, so I poured myself a cup of coffee to keep myself alert. After a long wait, someone finally announced that they were starting ferries from Battery park to New Jersey. I rushed out with a big group of people and we all started walking towards Battery park. Sitting on the ferry as it slowly started inching towards the Jersey shore, watching my tall apartment building come closer made me feel relieved. I wasn’t thinking about what happened and all the lives that were lost at that moment. I was just happy to be going home. As we alighted from the ferry, there was a young crowd handing out water bottles and asking if we were ok. I took one of the bottles and almost ran towards my apartment building. Getting home never felt better!
Almost twenty years have passed since that day. That day both my mind and body were numb, but every moment is etched in my memory and it still feels like it happened only yesterday. When I close my eyes, the face of that mother who was looking for her daughter and the faces of those little children from the day care keep flashing in front of my eyes. I then wonder, “Did the mother ever find her daughter? Did those little children reunite with their parents who might have been working on the towers?”. I try to reassure myself by imagining that the lady is now a grandmother surrounded by the laughter of her daughter and her grandchildren. I soothe my spirit by picturing those children in their twenties attending graduation ceremonies with their parents. Every day I hope that my images are reality today. I never kept in touch with Marina and neither did she. Somehow, we didn’t want to relive the memories of the last meeting we had.
More images from that day keep playing on my mind. The sight of the older gentleman with his clothes covered in soot, images of youngsters helping us when we came out of the ferry, the calmness on the faces of the people as they walked hand in hand down the streets of New York, and many more. Color of the skin did not matter then. It did not matter which part of the world the person who was next to you came from. There was no anger in anyone’s eyes. No one looked at each other with suspicion. The only thing that was on each and every person’s mind was how to help themselves and others get home to their family and to their loved ones.
Twenty years later, again the world is in a turmoil. We are in the middle of a pandemic. So many innocent lives have been lost; children are separated from their parents, many of us helplessly watch as our aged parents miles away suffer. The impact of these times will haunt us for years to come. The questions that comes to my mind are “Why does this have to happen? Is there a message that someone up there in heaven is trying to send to us? Are there some lessons we all need to learn as human beings?”
I remember the those few minutes when I was walking on the tracks in the dark tunnel hoping to see the rays of sunshine soon. Some words spoken by Aristotle Onassis comes to mind. “It is during our darkest moments that we must focus to see the light”. So many of us are engulfed in the darkness of our minds. We must remember that someday the storm will be over, and the rainbow will appear again. Let us reflect on three things that are most important to us and how we would like to see ourselves in that new world. Nothing else really matters!