Last night I watched “102 Minutes That Changed America” It reminded me how that day, and those right after, I was so confused. I was panicked. I was unsure of everything around me. The memories that flooded back while watching that last night were overwhelming. I remember the woman who collapsed on the street, screaming and crying. I remember my coworkers, seeing them in a way you never expect to see coworkers. They were afraid. They were sad. They were grateful to have someone with them to figure out the maze to get out of New York. I remember seeing the men and women, covered in dust and soot, with their shocked and stunned faces. Most were walking by themselves. Most didn’t want to talk.
That day really changed me. However, it is the days right after that changed me more. The shock passed, then reality hit. I went to work the next day. It was all I was sure of I guess. But, I left after a few hours. My boss, he showed up at work too. He did the same thing I did. Starred at things on his desk, then went home. On the way home is when I saw the first missing signs. The fathers and mothers, sons and daughters who went to work and didn’t come home.
I think TV is what made it even worse for everyone. The constant coverage. The faces of sons, daughters, husbands and wives, friends and families crying, searching, hoping their loved one wasn’t in those buildings when they collapsed. Watching the Firemen, Police, EMTs, and others working tirelessly to find people alive, including their friends and partners and siblings. We needed to see what was happening, I think we saw more than we were supposed to.
One day, maybe, I will be able to feel something more than complete sorrow and shock about that day and those days after. Maybe one day I will, but that isn’t today, and it won’t be tomorrow. To those of you I worked with, walked on the street with and hugged and cried with, I know you feel the same way I do.
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