9/11
I was in New York on 9/11, and I made a decision that day that I have kept for ten years. I decided never to write anything about it. The deluge was so complete. I had nothing to add. And I was getting very sick of the way it was being talked about—it really never stopped.
I planned on keeping to that, and have been avoiding the coverage as much as possible. A few people online asked me if I was going to write anything, and I said no. Same reasons. But then I started looking at some of the replies—people telling me they were very small at the time, they found the coverage weird and confusing, could I provide any perspective, since I was there? So I tweeted a few things, and in the act of typing them, I found myself typing this. The trouble is, when I start talking about it, I feel the need to complete the story. I don’t want to add to the sheer tonnage of stuff out there. That’s not my goal. But I do think there’s something missing in a lot of this endless talk, and that’s about the basics of that day, and how they revealed some very good things about people.
This is what I remember. I have not looked anything up. I am simply telling it as it lives in my memory. I have not polished this. I’m typing and posting and walking away from it.
On 9/11, I had a day job working as an editor at an educational publishing company pretty far downtown. I was also married at the time. This is something a lot of people who read this blog don’t know about me. It’s cool. I was, and it’s all good. My former husband is a totally awesome person.* The only reason I mention this is because it’s very much a part of what happened that day, in my experience.
I was still at home, listening to the radio and ironing. My husband worked downtown. At the time, I thought he worked in the Towers. He had been working in the Towers previous to this, and as far as I knew, was still doing so. In actual fact, he had moved to another office in One New York Plaza, but on the morning of 9/11, I had no idea about this. I regarded every building downtown as very much like another.
He started work at 8 am, so he was in his office. He sent me an email that said something like, “Something really weird has happened. An air conditioning unit on the north twin tower has exploded and now we’re all watching it burn. It’s insane.”
And then a few minutes later he wrote, “Can you get me the dentist’s phone number?”
So I wasn’t really paying that much attention. I was still ironing my clothes and thinking I was kind of late and looking for the dentist’s phone number. Then the radio show I was listening to started talking about this small plane that had flown into one of the towers, and what kind of idiot pilot flies into one of the TOWERS?”
I sent an e-mail about this, but got no reply. I sent the dentist’s phone number as well.
On the radio, they started yelling. This was because the second plane had just flown into the second tower. The time between the plane and the second was seventeen minutes. Pretty much everything changed in those seventeen minutes. It went from, “Who is this moron?” To, “That fire is pretty big.” To, “A second plane went in and this is clearly intentional and probably an act of war.”
I grabbed the phone and tried my husband’s cell. Nothing. I tried the landline. Nothing. I tried again. And again. I sent e-mail after e-mail. In the meantime, the news was getting steadily worse, as the towers were burning out of control.
Pretty much everything from this point on was happening at once. It was just a rolling cycle of things happening and no one knowing what was happening next. Planes were lost in the air. The plane went into the Pentagon at 9:37. The first tower fell at 9:59. Flight 93 crashed at 10:03. The second tower collapsed at 10:28. (I looked up these times, only because it was hard to detangle how the events were coming down. Also to show just how fast it was all happening.) To describe that morning and surreal and insane doesn’t get anywhere near the truth of the matter. The second impact happened live on television.
My problem, from where I was sitting, was that I thought my husband was dead. I mean, there is no other way of explaining that, so there it is. I thought he was about 80 floors up, which is about where the plane went in to the second building. And that building was now gone. I wasn’t sure that this had happened, but it seemed that there was a definitely possibility that this was the situation. In fact, it seemed likely.
By this point, the entire phone network in NYC had essentially collapsed, for two reasons—a whole bunch of cell towers had just been taken out, and everyone on the planet was calling people in NYC. (They eventually started begging people not to call NYC.) I got two calls that morning, one from my mother-in-law and one from my brother-in-law. I had to report that I knew nothing, that I would contact them as soon as I did, but I had to keep the line clear.
Meanwhile, in this hour . . . what we didn’t know at the time was that the Mayor’s state-of-the-art emergency control center had been in (I think) World Trade 7, and was destroyed. So the Mayor was circling around downtown in a car, trying to find somewhere to give an emergency broadcast. They finally broke into a fire station and gave it from there. The Mayor’s broadcast was calm, firm, and simple. He gave walking instructions. Walk north. Go now. Cover your face. (I am sure this broadcast can be seen online somewhere if you want to see it.) It was the only totally effective and practical thing I have ever seen from a politician. There was just no bullshit at all. It was all instructions, nothing extra.
Meanwhile, reports were spreading that everything was blowing up downtown. There was a story going around for about an hour that gas lines were exploding, and that this was going to be a chain event, gas main after main going up. This story turned out to be false, but it circled around for a while.
I e-mailed someone I know who is a forensic fire investigator (he would later be involved in the 9/11 investigations) and asked him what to do, what I should tell my husband when and if he called? He was stuck down there. If the gas lines were exploding, what was the best advice? The only thing he could tell me, given the information, was that he should take some cloth, soak it in water, and wrap it around his face. This is what most people were doing—taking off shirts or whatever, soaking them, and tying them around their faces. (E-mails were also incredibly slow that morning, so I got this info hours after I sent the note.)
So I was at home, with a dead landline and a more or less useless cellphone, waiting.
I think—I cannot remember this clearly—but I think I switched off the news. I have a vague memory of thinking that it was probably something to be avoided at that moment, because it might disturb my mental state to the point where I would not actually be functional. My job, as I saw it, was to wait for the phone to ring again. I did remain online, because I figured if anything really major came up, it would immediately change the headline.
I went over to a cabinet where we kept the booze. I took out a bottle of good whiskey I’d been given as a gift. I poured about a shot and a half into a small glass, and I drank it all in one go. The idea behind this was that my system was flooded with adrenaline, and I wanted to take it to something as close to a normal baseline as I could get. I had to get rid of the immediate shakes and keep my head. Caffieene brings you up and alcohol brings you down. This was very basic and gritty and seems like something out of a Western, but it did the job.
I then sat on the sofa and waited. I don’t remember much about this except that I thought something along the lines of, “This has happened, and now you will see what happens next. And when that thing comes, you will deal with it.”
I can’t remember when the phone rang, but I think it must have been between ten and eleven. My husband was all right, but had seen it all. He had been in 1 New York Plaza, which is down the street from the Towers and is the next tallest building. They had all gone over to the window to try to see what was going on at the towers, when a plane flew directly past them—and I do mean directly. It flew more or less at the height of their window, right past them. They barely had time to process this, because in the next few seconds, it continued on and went right into the building.
They all turned and ran. As one. The left everything—bags, phones off hooks, computers on, they left it all and they ran. At the time of the call, they were holed up in someone’s apartment downtown (which actually happened to be closer to the towers than their workplace). Everything had gone white, and they were trapped in a huge cloud of crap, debating the wisdom of whether to stay or go. But the instructions in general seemed to be that everyone should get the hell out, and I was concerned about this whole “exploding gas mains” situation, so they decided to rip up some shirts, soak them, tie them over their faces, and leave. They began the very long walk uptown, and we arranged to meet in Midtown.
I lived in Queens, across the river from Manhattan. It wasn’t going to be a short trip for me. To walk to Midtown from my apartment was an hour, and hour and a half, it really depended on how far I had to go. It could be two hours.
The night before, I’d made a big pot of pasta and sauce, one of those things you make that you can nosh for a day or two. I got this out and forced myself to eat a large bowl. I was going to need something in my stomach, and pasta was good for that. I was going to be doing a lot of walking, and I had no idea when I’d get back home that night, or even if I’d get back home. I found my old backpack. I can’t remember what I put in it. I just remember it was anything practical I thought I’d need—probably a change of clothes, some medicine, some water, something to eat, things like that. I really had no idea what was going to happen.
And then I started walking. It was a pretty good distance from my apartment to the 59th Street Bridge. Not far from my house, I found a hack cab who was driving around in confused circles, and he agreed to take me to within a few blocks of the bridge. He didn’t know how much to ask for, so accepted five dollars and wished me luck and continued making confused circles. (The bridges had been closed off to all cars by that point, so whatever side of the bridge you were on when it all happened, you were stuck there. It was some time before they opened again.)
I got my first view of things from the 59th Street Bridge, which spans Queens and Manhattan on the east side at (as the name suggests) 59th Street. There were several thousand people walking toward me, as Manhattan places of business were being evacuated. I was one of the few people walking toward Manhattan. There was someone on the bridge with a cooler trying to give water to anyone who needed it. The people coming over the bridge seemed calm, really normal, talking to each other. Just walking home. From the high point of the bridge, I looked south, and I saw it. The towers were both down by that point. What I saw was a column of smoke, very dark and very, very high and wide. In fact, it was so high that at some point it hit something in the atmosphere that stopped it and it became flat and started moving sideways, so it kind of looked like an anvil. It is difficult to explain the size of it. It simply dwarfed everything.
I finally found him at the hospital. We tried to get in line to give blood, but there were already hundreds and hundreds of people in line. Every single hospital in Manhattan had hundreds and hundreds of people in line to give blood. Everyone was trying to give blood because they thought ten or twenty thousand injured people were about to roll into every emergency room in the city—so the hospital were grateful but they also had to push everyone out because they were trying to make room for these ten or twenty or thirty thousand people they were about to treat. Everything had gone into disaster mode—prepare the makeshift hospitals, roll out the spare cots, that kind of thing.
Because at that time, everyone still thought there would be survivors. This was not stupidity or misplaced hope. It only made sense that some people had gotten out and were nearby and injured, or there might be people trapped under the rubble—it was possible.
We went to four hospitals that day. We left our names on four lists. We also spent this time trying to track down friends, including my friend Winchester Grey, who worked quite near the Towers. There was no response on his phone. I think we finally tracked him down around four or five.
We walked home over the bridge, and all the way through Queens back to the house. I don’t remember anything about this walk. I only know that I had been walking for about five or six hours, and my husband for even more, and he was covered in crap from the air. We had partial phone service by that point. He made some phone calls. I sat on the sofa and passed out. I mean that. I just went out like a light. My body must have known that it could now stop, and it did. I woke up in the early evening.
The news reports we were getting in NYC were different from the news reports being given in the rest of the country. The NYC news reports were scrappy, and very much involved with dealing with what was happening, right now. It was not glossy and polished. Newscasters were trying to stay professional, but it was clearly getting personal, and they were out in the street, looking unpolished.
At the time, it was estimated that around many tens of thousands of people were in the Towers. I remember hearing all kinds of numbers that morning. At one point they were saying 80,000. They were hastily doing figures based on whatever information they could get their hands on. One of the quasi-saving graces was that the first attack occurred before 9am, so a lot of people hadn’t arrived for work yet. Most were on the way. So no one really knew how many people to look for, and a lot of these people were out on the streets, or had been booted off of subways, or had run away.
We walked to a friend’s house and went on the roof. Every ambulance in the city had gone down to the WTC. The first sign I saw of the reality of things was seeing them all come back in a row, unused. They were the only vechiles on the bridge, and they were endless. I started counting over five minutes after I got up there and I stopped at 66 because there was no point in counting any more.
Things didn’t end that day in NYC. Two incredibly huge buildings had just fallen to the ground. No one knew what the result of that was going to be. Explosions. Fire. Toxic substances. Chain reactions. Also, that part of lower Manhattan is basically swamp, so there was also this possible scenario with the Hudson sweeping in and flooding the whole area. There was basically no doomsday scenario that wasn’t floating around for at least 24-48 hours. No one went to work. There was no transportation. People were missing. Jobs were missing. Everything had stopped, more or less. NYC was closed. There were military on the streets, and fighter planes and helicopters overhead all of the time.
This is when the bomb alerts started. Pretty much every major building in NYC was evacuated between Wednesday and Friday, and this was all broadcast live. Nutcases from all over, sensing their moment of ultimate nutcasery had come, were calling the police and telling them there were bombs. This caused fear, irritatation, and a lot of anger. The night I remember vididly was the night someone was threatening to blow up the Empire State Building (I think this was Wednesday, 9/12), and all of the news networks were just showing live coverage of the building, and I just stood there, unable to even sit, filled with a kind of weird, formless rage that I find very difficult to explain. They were not allowed to have that building.
But here’s the big thing I remember about that week—there was a peace in New York. There was a spirit of total thankfulness for everyone who was helping. There were police cars on the street from other states, even as far as Washington, because all of these people had just driven there and were volunteering their time. Everyone checked on everyone else.
There were several centralized places where people would go to leave pictures of loved ones with their phone numbers. One of these places was Union Square. It was totally covered with these, along with candles and flowers. Because people had not given up. There was still a hope—ever dwindling, but it was there—that the crews were going to find people under all that steel. Or find people wandering the streets. So everyone paid attention. Pretty much no one was at work. There was still no subway. And things still might explode. A terrible stink blew over the city that remained for months—a smell I can only describe thusly: things were burning that you knew beyond a shadow of a doubt should not be burning. Computers. Plastics. All the stuff that goes into offices. And also people. That was the reality of it. And it was strong. It was so strong, in fact, that the first night it blew over our building I thought the building next door was on fire. So did all of my neighbors, because when I looked out of the window, I found that everyone was looking out of the window. There was a strange, Sesame Street quality to it, all of us leaning out of our New York City windows, talking to each other.
The dogs down at the site were starting to get depressed and confused because they never found anyone, so the crews would hide and let the dogs find them just to keep them sharp and hopeful. People stood by the side of the road holding up Thank You signs when fire trucks and police went down to the site.
After the bombs, came the anthrax threats. That went on for a long time. I once got off the subway to see hundreds of people running at me, being forcefully evacuated from a possible anthrax site. Weirdly, you got used to this sort of thing. “Anthrax,” you’d say, laughing and wondering if you’d been exposed to it. “Those bastards.” The anthrax stuff was again, mostly crazies on a Crazy Day Out. It was a good time to be a crazy.
Kitchens opened up to feed the volunteers, who worked 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for months. The site burned until, I believe it was December. I worked down there, doing the midnight to eight am shift on Halloween. I worked in the downstairs kitchen of a restaurant called Bouley Bakery—which was a swanky place, now being used as a food prep area for the Red Cross. This is when I first saw the site. It was lit up with worklights, so it was constantly day down there. I am unable to explain to you what it looked like, the twisted metal, higher than most buildings. I mean, it looked like something Michael Bay thought up for Transformers, except it was real, and it was filthy, and people worked there, without stopping, all the time. People were exceptionally good and brave.
And this, to me, is the part of 9/11 people should remember. An unbelievable amount of good came out.
And here’s something I do remember very, very vividly. It must have been the next day, and we were just learning of the huge sacrifice made by all the firefighters who rushed in when everyone was rushing out. People were showing up at fire stations and just giving them anything—food, flowers, whatever they needed. There was a tremendous sense of grace in the air. People were generous. People found whatever was necessary in themselves to remain as calm as possible. People rethought priorities. All those people downtown had names and faces and they all mattered. Everyone mattered. We suddenly remembered that. Everyone mattered.
And I stood there thinking that we were in a strange, hellish, yet wonderful place. We were doing all the right things for a few days, and I think I said out loud, to . . . no one . . . but I think I was talking to politicians or decision makers or some sort of interhuman sounding board (Twitter wasn’t around yet) . . . “Do. Not. Screw. This. Up.”
We did, eventually, screw it up. But not all of it. And I still remember how good people can be, and how calm, and how aware of others. I mean that sincerely. I saw it, and it changed how I dealt with the world.
So that is my 9/11 story. Having written it, I now post, and as promised, I walk away.
* I realize some people are going to want to ask me about this, but I can tell you now I’m not going to answer. I repeat that it’s all cool, but it’s in the personal files so, you know. No big or anything.
Posted: Sunday, September 11th, 2011 @ 12:49 pm
Categories: advice.
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September 11th, 2011 at 1:02 pm
Thank you. Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:03 pm
Thank you, Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:06 pm
Thank you for sharing this with us, Maureen. Just- thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:06 pm
Thank you, Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:07 pm
Thank you, thank you so much for reminding us of the good in the world.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:07 pm
Thank you for this. I’m mostly avoiding media today because I’m quite pregnant and more emotional than I’m comfortable being, but I knew I could count on you. Your memory helps.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:09 pm
Thank you so much maureen. I almost lost someone that day too. I think he was with your husband actually because he told us the same story. It means a lot to me.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:14 pm
Thank you. THIS is what remembrance is. Not buying and selling t-shirts. Not getting angry at people that don’t feel the same way about it.
But actually remember it for what it was.
And may I just say, it sounds like you handled it all very well.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:16 pm
Thanks Maureen. We definitely need to remember all of the good things that happened that day.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:17 pm
Thank you so much for writing this. I was eight when this happened and never really knew what was going on. This is an amazing story.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:18 pm
Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:18 pm
This brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for this, Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:19 pm
Nothing more needs to be said. Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:21 pm
Thanks for sharing this with us Maureen. It’s these personal accounts that bring “9/11″ home to us in forrin parts.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:24 pm
I told myself I wouldnt read any stories, that I would stay as far away from the subject all day. But…. Thank you, for sharing this piece of you that you promised yourself you wouldnt. Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:24 pm
Thank you for sharing your story, Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:24 pm
Thanks, Mj
September 11th, 2011 at 1:25 pm
I totally understand what you mean. I wasn’t going to write about 9/11 either because of the reasons you stated. I did end up writing something very short and sparse and posted a video that I feel has a hopeful message.
Thank you for sharing.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:26 pm
Thank you MJ, this means a lot.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:31 pm
I know this must have been hard for you to write, and I feel like you did it just for us. Thank you so much.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:32 pm
Wow, just…wow. I already totally respected you as a person but that respect has just incredibly increased. Very well written. I can now definitely see why you try to avoid all things 9/11.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:33 pm
Thank you so much for sharing this with us, Maureen. I was 9 when this happened bit I remember watching the news in my 3rd grade class. We started watching right before the second plain hit. Because I was so young I didn’t really understand what was happening and didn’t really understand until I read your post. Thank you for opening my eyes. Thank you!
September 11th, 2011 at 1:34 pm
<3<3
September 11th, 2011 at 1:34 pm
Thank you, Maureen. I’ve spent the day rereading Love Is The
Higher Law (you told me to buy it at LeakyCon- one of NY absolute favorite reads) and this is the perfect companion for a day of reflection and memories.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:35 pm
I was three when it happened, and I don’t think I was aware that anything had happened. By the time I was old enough to actually know about anything happening in the world outside my own it had become this thing that had happened but wasn’t happening any more. No one told me about it, I found out through a friend at school a few years later.
I think you’ve shown the most respect for the victims out of all the things I’ve seen on the internet. You said what happened, recognising it for the tragic event it was but not decorating it with guilt trips, or trying to accuse anyone for not remembering in a certain way.
Thank you for telling what happened in the way that you did Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:41 pm
Thank you, Maureen. It’s all I have to say.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:41 pm
Thank you. This is the most honest account I’ve seen, and it means a lot. I was 6, I think when it happened, and I didn’t understand at the time, but again, thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:42 pm
Thank you, Maureen. It must have been hard to write this, but it’s something that needs to be read widely. Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:46 pm
Maureen, thank you for writing this. I’ve been avoiding the TV broadcasts and news articles today, but something compelled me to read your blog. The anniversary brings up memories of so much fear and pain, and for many of us it feels as though we are suddenly thrust back into the confusion of that day. Your story has reminded me that I am not alone in re-living those memories and can still find hope in the good that came from such a nightmare. Thank you for sharing your memories.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:48 pm
A big thank you for willing to and being able to share this, Maureen!
September 11th, 2011 at 1:49 pm
Thank you so much for sharing.
I never really read the stories of the victims or their families because I think it’s all very frightening.
But I’m so glad I read yours! It shows a very different point of view from the stuff I usually see about 9/11
Thank you, again
September 11th, 2011 at 1:54 pm
I was eight years old on 9/11, and even now I do not remember who told me why this day would never be forgotten. This brought it home in way that the past 10 years never have. So I, like everyone else here, thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 1:59 pm
Thank you Maureen. Thank you for sharing. I was only 12 at the time and being from South Florida I have always felt very disconnected from the rest of the country. Thank you for helping me understand and connect better.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:00 pm
Thank you Maureen, I don’t really know what else to say but thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:03 pm
Bless you, and thank you. What i remember most is the ice block of grief and anxiety that encased my heart. You are a superstar, and I respect you greatly.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:05 pm
I think as a New Yorker we all have a story of that day and might have known a few people who worked in the area. Thank you for sharing your story.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:06 pm
Wow. Having been six at the time I didn’t even know what was happening. I don’t remember it at all. When I got older and became aware of it it was something bad and it happened but it was in the past. So thanks for helping me understand what happened that much better. It means a lot that you would share your story and even though I’ll never actually know what it was like for people who were there, I think I appreciate the situation a lot more.
Thanks, MJ
September 11th, 2011 at 2:08 pm
Thank you. Thank you for writing this.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:13 pm
Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:19 pm
Thank you Maureen, for sharing your story and breaking a 10 year promise.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:19 pm
Thanks for writing this. I was seven at the time. Until about a week ago, I never really watched any documentaries about 9/11. This week I’ve watched something about flight 93 and something about the firefighters. Both seemed pretty unreal, the flight 93 one more so than the firefighter one (mainly because the firefighter one had real footage), but they both didn’t show an as complete picture as your story. They weren’t on the level of a person living in NYC. And I’m not trying to criticize those things I’ve watched either. This was just a very good thing to read for someone who was seven at the time. Thanks.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:20 pm
Thank you. Not many focus on the good of what happened anymore. Even though I was only 10, I remember being in awe of how helpful people were on my Air Force base in Texas and of the stories coming out of NYC and how everyone was. I’ve been avoiding the stories today because they’re either angry or focusing on the negative emotions and I just don’t want to dwell on all that. But this made me hopeful again and proud for whatever reason.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:24 pm
Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:25 pm
Thank you. xo
September 11th, 2011 at 2:25 pm
I lived at Union Square. The goodness, the support, the generosity, the comforting is also what I remember most. Thank you for writing this.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:36 pm
Thank you for sharing. Between your story and Meg Cabot’s story, I have a much better understanding of what that day was really like.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:38 pm
Thank you, Maureen.
I was working in a hospital when it happened, and among the millions of rumors flying around that day was that hospitals would be secondary targets. No one left.
Because people are good. Thank you for reminding us of that.
I said it on Twitter, but I’ll say it again here: When we care for each other, we have no enemies.
- Liz
September 11th, 2011 at 2:39 pm
Everyone has already said it, but I have to say it too: Thank you. I was only eight and wasn’t allowed to watch the live coverage because my parents didn’t want me to witness something that would be scarring for someone that age. But it was a scarring experience for everyone who was alive when it occurred. Remembering is what keeps those that gave their lives away alive.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:48 pm
Thank you Maureen. I was too young to remember that day, I was three. So thank you for sharing this with us, I am just starting to realise quite how hellish it must have been
September 11th, 2011 at 2:56 pm
Thank you for sharing your story.
It means a lot.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:57 pm
Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 2:58 pm
Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 3:04 pm
I admire you so much for sharing this with us. This is by far the most sane and most beautiful thing I have ever read about that day and what came after. Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 3:05 pm
Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 3:13 pm
Thank you. Just thank you. I was eight at the time and literally had no idea; just came home and found out. I saw the utter chaos from the second plane hit, but saw humanity arise eventually. And this I even saw in you, which I’m sure is the great story of what happened that day.
September 11th, 2011 at 3:18 pm
Thank you, Maureen. This is such a heartrending story. I think it’s good you focused on the positive aspects of the attacks. Not a lot of people do.
September 11th, 2011 at 3:38 pm
Thank you, Maureen. I had no idea.
September 11th, 2011 at 3:41 pm
I can’t believe you held this all in these years. I hope this was cathartic for you, as well as helpful to your young readers.
I watched the whole thing unfold live on Good Morning America, in full horror. I decided to pick my kids up from school, and keep them close. We were lucky not to lose anyone we knew personally, but both my hometown and my current town lost many residents.
I agree with you that what remains 10 years later is the absolute grace of humanity. Truly, our finest hour.
September 11th, 2011 at 3:46 pm
Thank you Maureen. I was 5 at the time, and even though I live in New York, I didn’t really understand because I was, well 5 years old! My das was (and still is) a firefighter in the city, and was working that day, but by some miracle he was called to another fire away from the towers. Thank you for your story mj.
<3
September 11th, 2011 at 3:47 pm
Thank you.
I was a junior in high school. We watched the news in AP Goverment before class started, when I got to school the first tower had been hit. When I heard estimates on how many people had died, I had to go throw up.
I remember that the Oklahoma City fire department sent people to New York, as the New York City fire department had sent people here when the Murrah building was hit.
You see this happen after terrible disasters of all sorts, people pulling together and doing what needs to get done. When bad things happen, it cuts through a lot of crap. People are, largely, good.
September 11th, 2011 at 3:47 pm
Thank you so much for sharing this with us, Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 3:53 pm
Thank you Maureen, for sharing your story of this day with us.
September 11th, 2011 at 4:03 pm
Thank you, Maureen, for always using your words to help us understand. You make such a difference, every day.
September 11th, 2011 at 4:11 pm
Thank you for writing this Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 4:15 pm
I also remember exactly where I was on that day. I think everyone does. It’s one of the reasons why I don’t understand people saying Never Forget. I can’t imagine anyone being able to.
A lot of people I know are talking about the tragedies the US helped propagate around the world after/in response to 9/11. Normally, I would think those discussions were important, but I have to admit I am having trouble participating in them today. It feels like today should just be about the families, and the memories.
September 11th, 2011 at 4:15 pm
Wow, Maureen, that was beautiful, thank you for sharing.
September 11th, 2011 at 4:16 pm
[...] read blog entries by two of my favorite authors- Meg Cabot and Maureen Johnson. Both were in NYC on that day and both tell stories of fear and certainty of loss, but those are not [...]
September 11th, 2011 at 4:17 pm
[...] author Maureen Johnson’s recollections of that day. She was there, in NYC. What she says in this post sums up everything I could ever [...]
September 11th, 2011 at 4:25 pm
Thank you, Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 4:39 pm
Thank you.
I’ve had thoughts and inklings of what to say for the last ten minutes but I can’t think of anything now. But thank you. The world is full of amazing and wonderful people. We just have to be reminded that we are one of them.
September 11th, 2011 at 4:39 pm
Thank you, Maureen. I hope that you find that sharing your experience was the right choice for you. Being that I live far away from the east coast areas that were attacked, your story helps me to experience the events in a more enriching manner.
September 11th, 2011 at 4:42 pm
Thank you for this. I thought I understood but I didn’t until now.
September 11th, 2011 at 4:43 pm
Thank you. I’m particularly glad that you (and Meg Cabot) chose to write about 9/11, because your audiences don’t remember it the way the rest of us do. I see all these comments above mine, from people who were 7 or 8 at the time, and I think, They need this. They need to know. So this blog post matters. It’s part of your work; part of what you’re doing as a YA author. You’re reaching teens. Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 4:48 pm
Maureen, thanks for telling your 9/11 story.
September 11th, 2011 at 4:55 pm
This was really wonderful and touching, Maureen. Thanks for sharing <3
September 11th, 2011 at 5:04 pm
Thank you for sharing your perspective.
September 11th, 2011 at 5:06 pm
Thank you for sharing your story.
September 11th, 2011 at 5:13 pm
Thank you, Maureen.
This is the only piece about 9/11 I’ve read and I’m in tears even though I was hundreds of miles from NYC that day. But this is told so simply and honestly that it’s more powerful than any memorial or TV special. Thank you for posting it.
September 11th, 2011 at 5:34 pm
Incredible. I wish someone could go back and hang on to that 2001 Maureen and let her know she’d get through it. Changed, but alright.
September 11th, 2011 at 5:43 pm
Thank you for sharing Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 6:11 pm
Thank you, Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 6:23 pm
Thank you, Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 6:26 pm
Thank you for sharing, Maureen.
September 11th, 2011 at 7:34 pm
Thank you for this very real, very raw accounting of that day that changed the world. I was 3 mos. pregnant with my daughter, sitting on the sofa, in shocked disbelief that morning. I sat with her today in the very same spot on the sofa and tried to help her understand…but the way it is now is all she will know, she has no “before” to compare it to.
September 11th, 2011 at 8:00 pm
As others have said… Thank you. And I completely agree with Mach saying that, “THIS is what remembrance is. Not buying and selling t-shirts. Not getting angry at people that don’t feel the same way about it.
But actually remember it for what it was.
And may I just say, it sounds like you handled it all very well.”
September 11th, 2011 at 8:41 pm
I think this is the best piece of this month’s 9/11 coverage that I have seen, and the only one really that I have found to be even worth reading. Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 8:43 pm
Thank you so much Maureen. I spent about an hour tonight shaking with anger at the disrespectful things that some people were saying about 9/11, but then I found this and Meg Cabot’s post and I was immediately calmed. Your post made me realize how silly it was for me to be focusing on the insensitivity of others when I could be remembering the good in people that was brought out that day. Thank you so much for sharing your experience, I cannot imagine how difficult it must have been for you to write about.
September 11th, 2011 at 9:07 pm
Thank you so much for posting this, Maureen.
I was young when this all happens, so I really don’t remember much of it, just watching the news, really. I’ve heard about the kindness that revealed itself in the days following the attack, but wish I was old enough to remember it in greater detail, so thank you very much for sharing your experience and reminding us that we don’t only remember the horror of that attack, but the way we all came together, and how in New York, we all acted as a real community.
September 11th, 2011 at 9:15 pm
Thank you Maureen for this. I was very young at that time and I live in the other side of the planet. I didn’t really understand what Americans went through no matter how many Discovery channel and National Geographic specials I watched. Thank you.
September 11th, 2011 at 9:46 pm
MJ, I am so thankful that you wrote this. I had been avoiding media coverage (and over coverage), but I truly have never heard a personal account from someone who was in New York at the time, and certainly not someone I admire.
I like to think of that day more in terms of the good and kindness that it drew out of Americans rather than the horrific aspects. Things like this show us what human beings are capable of — great evil, but also incredible, unbelievable amounts of good.
September 11th, 2011 at 9:50 pm
Thank you for writing this. I was four when it happened and i just remember them telling us someone very mean did something very bad. Even though i went to new york with my dad that december while he worked on anti terrorism security i just thought it was a pile of trash. Id never seen the twin towers and i guess i never will. I didnt even know what 9/11 was until 2005 cuz no one would talk about it in texas. Ive always wondered what it was really like an now i know, and its nice to realize ppl really can do good things. Thank you, i finally understand what 9/11 really wad
September 11th, 2011 at 9:57 pm
Thank you, Maureen. Thank you for having the courage to share your experience, in spite of the painful memories.
September 11th, 2011 at 10:38 pm
Thank you for posting this – it is exactly as I remember it – almost word for word similar to my story. Inspired me to do a post as well – a bit cathartic so thank you for that.
September 11th, 2011 at 10:44 pm
Oh, Maureen. Thank you so much.
September 11th, 2011 at 10:45 pm
This made me cry a lot but it’s really good information. I will never forget how people supported each other on that day.
September 11th, 2011 at 11:00 pm
Thank you MJ. I remember very little about what happened that day, but I remember the fear and uncertainty of what might happen and of not knowing what had happened.
September 12th, 2011 at 12:15 am
Thank you Maureen.
September 12th, 2011 at 1:02 am
This was so compelling. I wasn’t going to read any of the 9/11 coverage, but I had to read this and I’m glad I did. Thank you for letting us in to something so personal.
September 12th, 2011 at 2:17 am
I’m from Maryland, and my parents work not too far from DC, so when this all happened, for a lot of us, in my family and in my town and at school (I was 11), it was all about the Pentagon. Who we knew who worked there or near there, and all of that.
Most of the news coverage was about the twin towers and New York, but for me it was much more about DC. Sometimes it’s still so weird to hear how different it was in NYC.
September 12th, 2011 at 4:02 am
Thank you. I refused to read anything until now because I can’t stand to risk all of that … Well, you know. Plus I’m one of those people who’ll cry when someone wins a race, let alone something so huge. So thank you for teaching me something, and for being so real and honest and wholly incredible.
I also want to say that this experience of calm and helping eachother and all that good was mirrored this year in Brisbane. Our society can surprise us in the nicest ways during the most horrible of times – whether through natural disaster or worse.
September 12th, 2011 at 8:54 am
I also would like to say thank you. I wish the news would focus on the kindness and not the madness in their remembrances. Thank you for reminding me, you have helped me redefine this tragedy.
September 12th, 2011 at 9:56 am
Thank you for writing this. I remember all too well what it was like here in southern Virginia that day. There was government list getting passed around by the military kids naming our area as #5 mostly to be hit by terrorists. (We have a ton of military bases here.)
I hope yesterday wasn’t too hard on you and that we as a people, will focus on the good we are capable of in the face of tragedy. Love ya, MJ!
September 12th, 2011 at 10:50 am
Thank you, Maureen.
September 12th, 2011 at 1:11 pm
I couldn’t make it through this without crying. But thank you from the bottom of my heart for writing this.
September 12th, 2011 at 2:10 pm
Seating in bed in Cape Town. Someone twitted a link and i ended up reading your blog. Made me think about 9/11 beyond politics something that has been very difficult to do. Thanks
September 12th, 2011 at 8:28 pm
Thank you, Maureen. Like many others, I was in first grade on the day 9/11, and at the time I neither cared nor understood. Nobody explained anything, saying I was ‘too young for that kind of horror’. So like many others, I spent yesterday watching all the History Channel documentaries and reading news articles about the event. And now, I finally understand, ten years later. But you covered the part they all left out: the unity of it all. Not just the overabundance of flag clothing. The facts that strangers comforted strangers, and people were brave, and good, and generous. Nothing has affected me more than your personal account of that black, sooty day in history. <3
September 13th, 2011 at 12:37 am
Thank you for sharing such a detailed account of your experience. This was enlightening and very stark, which is fitting. And I agree with your sentiment at the end, a lot of good came from the day in the end.
September 13th, 2011 at 3:25 am
[...] don’t really have more to add on the subject, so I’ll simply suggest you read Maureen Johnson’s account of that day which she shared recently. It’s much more relevant than mine, though mine of course, is very [...]
September 13th, 2011 at 11:16 am
I’ve felt the exact same way you described in your very first paragraph for ten years, and this year I decided that (though I still feel the same about it) this ONE time I would write about what I was doing that day, and then never write about it again. I don’t want to use the events of 9/11 to sell anything about myself. I don’t want to be one of those people to use it to get ahead in some way. I just wanted to share on my blog, so I did and that was the end of it.
September 13th, 2011 at 12:02 pm
[...] don’t really have more to add on the subject, so I’ll simply suggest you read Maureen Johnson’s account of that day which she shared recently. It’s much more relevant than mine, though mine of course, is very [...]
September 13th, 2011 at 3:40 pm
Thank you, Maureen.
September 13th, 2011 at 8:41 pm
Maureen, it can’t have been easy for you to write about that day. I hope it was helpful for you, in the end, to get it out on paper (screen, really). I definitely appreciate that you made the effort. I was in sixth grade then, and I don’t think I fully appreciated the immensity of feeling for the people who were in the city then.
I had actually been visiting relatives in the city the Sunday before, on 9/9/01, and as we headed home, we drove directly next to the towers. I remember looking up at them and saying aloud, “I’ve never been to the top. I want to go up there someday.” Yes, ironic.
I live in a commuter suburb of the city, so I have a collection of stories that touched on me personally. Such as:
My father was on his way into the city but he saw the towers burning and took the last train out of the city (lots of people were stuck in the city for several days after.)
My aunt was late for work- she was doing a temp job at Cantor Fitzgerald. As she got near the towers she was told to run, so she got out safely.
My cousin was also in one of the NY Plaza buildings- he got out, covered in soot of the burning towers.
My neighbor escaped from one of the lower floors of one of the towers.
A girl in my class from a neighboring town knew a family whose father called and left a message on the answering machine of his home, saying goodbye for the last time.
Two girls in my class had relatives who were passengers on the planes.
Yet because I was so young, even though I understood the tragedy of the day– reading what you wrote, I don’t know, it made me think about it differently. Like, the psychological effects must have been so much worse than I had realized then, for the adults.
You also made me remember the rumors- that was the biggest part of my day. Rumors were flying everywhere- there were terrorists driving with car bombs, targeting more public buildings, etc etc. And I remember the people who risked everything or gave up their lives to try to help. I remember seeing flags on every car for months after, asking my parents why they were there. I remember the Sunday after, hearing on the radio that they still hadn’t found any survivors and that it was doubtful that they ever would, after so many days had passed, and asking my father, “Why? Why didn’t they look harder?”
Thank you. Again. For overcoming your hesitation and helping the rest of us to understand.
September 13th, 2011 at 9:36 pm
Maureen, thank you … Thank you for letting us have a peek into your personal experience. Thank you sharing this.
September 14th, 2011 at 2:42 pm
[...] [...]
September 15th, 2011 at 3:25 am
Thank you, Maureen.
September 15th, 2011 at 5:51 pm
I cried. Even though I was only ten at the time and a gazillion miles away, it’s still all very sad.
Thanks Maureen.
September 20th, 2011 at 3:50 am
Thank you for writing this. I was sixteen at the time, in English class, hearing confusing reports from students who’d happened to pass the tv studio at the time and catch the news. No one knew what was going on, really, but we were all terrified; I’m from Rockland County, and everyone knows someone or has at least one parent who works in NYC. My boyfriend was waiting for me when I left the class, and my memory of that day is the stricken look on his face when he told me “The Towers are gone”.
September 27th, 2011 at 6:42 am
Thank you for sharing your story of 9/11. I grew up in NYC, but moved away before the attacks happened. I have never really spoken to any of my friends about it, as it’s not something many are comfortable speaking about. Your recollection is very moving!
September 28th, 2011 at 2:22 pm
Thank you for sharing this (and sorry I’m late in reading). My sweetie (who lives in NJ) saw one of the planes fly over head and I thought that was bad. I can’t imagine seeing one fly right at eye level!
October 5th, 2011 at 11:37 am
Thank you for this.
October 29th, 2011 at 11:24 am
Maureen. I was there … and now, at 36, I hope to give back through teching. I hope you get the chance to read my short memoir. http://time4reading.blogspot.com/2011/09/this-post-is-essay-i-wrote-in-effort-to.html
October 31st, 2011 at 5:45 pm
I was a tourist in San Francisco during the 1989 earthquake and on April 27, 2011 my Alabama neighborhood was hit by devastating tornadoes. The hours and days after, I learned what you learned about people . . .
“There was a tremendous sense of grace in the air. People were generous. People found whatever was necessary in themselves to remain as calm as possible. People rethought priorities. All those people downtown had names and faces and they all mattered. Everyone mattered. We suddenly remembered that. Everyone mattered.”