September 11, 2001

As the 6th anniversary approaches, I wanted to share some of my personal and professional memories around September 11th. Every New Yorker has their story about where they were when it happened. This is mine: In 2001, my office was eight blocks away from the World Trade Center. Although, as a social worker, I did home visits and Tuesdays were my day out “in the field”. I was lucky to be on my way to the Bronx that morning and was about one mile away from the Twin Towers when the subway system shut down. I came above ground among the chaos and I vividly remember my view of the buildings falling. I remember the sounds of the people screaming around me and the ambulance sirens. I won't forget the crowds gathered around cars with their radios blasting the news, the long lines at pay phones and the smell and taste of the smoke and dust that covered lower Manhattan. I walked uptown with the massive crowd up to my cousin’s apartment through Times Square where they broadcasted the image of the buildings collapse on the large screens over and over again. I rode the subway back home to Brooklyn the next day, everyone was quiet, solemn and in shock. I was still numb.

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that I noticed how the trauma affected me. I felt myself dip into a semi-depressive state in October. I didn’t need to turn on the news; I had reminders in my daily life that New York City was recovering from a deep wound. The subway did not stop near my office anymore so I had to walk an extra 10 blocks, which let me know my world had been seriously disrupted. Plus, everyday to get to work, I needed to show ID to get past a blockade. Helicopters were constantly flying overhead. I looked down the street and there was a clear view of the twisted metal of what used to be the Twin Towers. The media let the country know that it still may be under attack and NYC was a prime target. People were walking around with gas masks on, as if it were normal. The distinct smell of the smoke was overpowering. It was smoldering for months and I could feel it in my throat. There were bomb threats regularly and we were told Anthrax was going to poison all of us. There were signs posted all over the city by loved ones hoping to find their missing friend or family member. Memorials were everywhere large and small. Whenever a fireman’s body was retrieved, there was a large ceremony and more of the neighborhood was blockaded. Every subway train now had an American flag on it. Signs with little slogans such as “These Colors Don’t Run” were posted all over. Even the rescue dogs were commemorated with dog statues in front of select fire stations. Meanwhile, Rudi Giuliani was king of the world announcing how strong and resilient New Yorkers were. However, I was struggling among most New Yorkers trying to make sense of my environment and what I was feeling.

Nevertheless, I was working hard as a social worker, listening to client stories and trying to help others. I did groups with children, answered their questions and helped them feel safe. I met with my clients and helped them process their emotions around the event. I also began working with a few select families who lost a family member in The World Trade Center. One of the most difficult sessions I had was when a man described his experience searching for his sister’s DNA in a pile of body parts. He told the horrific story with little emotion while I listened and absorbed the feelings that were difficult for him to express. I remember having a terrible headache that night. 9/11 happened to all of us: the whole city, the whole country so it was difficult for me to stay in touch with my personal experience. I was simply grateful to be alive and unharmed. I didn’t recognize how I was affected.

I experienced several emotions that year. I was relieved and grateful, I was scared and vulnerable, and I was sad and depressed. But one major emotion I experienced was anger. I was angry with all the people profiting from tragedy. I walked down Church Street and observed vendors selling booklets with 9/11 photos. They were also selling images of the Twin Towers and NYPD/NYFD hats and T-shirts. Every time I saw a “United We Stand” T-shirt I was irritated. They were even selling banners with the names of the deceased on it. I remember their laptop computers scrolling images of the day with the Jewel song “My Hands” playing in the background so they can sell their merchandise. That made me angry also. And I couldn’t believe the crowd…people were coming from all over the country to get a peek at “Ground Zero”. For months it was a mob scene until the city built a wooden viewing platform. Also, a store actually framed their products with the white dust on it and it became a tourist attraction. I felt angry, angry that it was so sensationalized, angry that it became a source of profit for people, simply angry.

Over time, I was able to let go of some of my anger and come to acceptance. I moved out of New York City in September 2003 and being away from New York has been both difficult and a relief. I miss being around others who were a part of the community I was in, while it was good for me to have some distance from it. Six years later, I have been able to heal and I will forever carry with me the empathy I gained from being so close to a large national disaster.