911: Pentagon to WTC
It is hard to explain the sense of what NYC is right now. We are in the midst of the worst and the best. I love the fact that New Yorkers are so resilient. I hate the fact that Arabs on Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn and even some right here in Queens, were cheering in the streets. Of course they say it was the Jews who did it, no Jews died in the disaster, Jews control the banks, the government, the pentagon.
I wasnt at work that day, I was in downtown Brooklyn which is directly across the river from the WTC. Traffic was slow and I had a 9:15 appointment to defend a miserable piece of shit teacher who got a U rating and from what I can determine, deserved it. But if OJ was entitled to a defense, so is she. I got off the BQE at Tillary St. and it was backed up immediately. I could see smoke over the top of a building and thought it was from a construction site a few blocks down. It was nearly 9 or a bit before. The next intersection is the Brooklyn Bridge. The traffic was slow and almost immediately, there were sirens from everywhere, ever kind of vechile that serves, ambulances, firetrucks, cop cars both marked and unmarked, all sorts of emergency vechiles going over the bridge. The cops block it off as I passed the entrance and I turned off the music and turned on the news radio. They were talking about a plane crash and immediately we all thought accident, since that is what they were talking about. I sat in traffic when the next plane hit, all I could do is cry, oh my God.
I was able to make the turn to go to the Bd of Ed by about 9:35 and got the place where I park my car. My knees didn't work well and I was very shook. But I stupidly, continued on to 65 Court street. I washed my face and started my cross examination when the building was evacuated.
We walked down 7 flights. When I think of it now, I can't imagine how people who had to come down 50 or 60 or more flights did it. There was no smoke as it must have been in that building no fire, no water from sprinklers, no screaming people. We walked down to the street and when I got out all I wanted was to be home. The air was filled with the smell of fire and the skies rained down flakes of debris, as large as big snow flakes. I rushed back to the car, and while I waited for my car, I couldnt find the ticket I was just too upset, someone told me one building had fallen. I said no, that can't be and then as I spoke, the second one fell, I saw it on a fuzzy screened TV. I wanted to make a phone call home but no phone work not pay not cell. I got in my car and decided to take Atlantic Avenue home and avoid major highways and bridges.
I cried most of the way home. The normally 20/25 minute trip to 2 1/2 hours and was more like being an extra in a disaster movie with traffic either stalled or crawling and people everywhere, as if no one could go in. You sat in your car and saw the pain on everyone's face and they saw yours and shared the feelings. No one honked horns, no one was annoyed by the lack of traffic progress. My family was finally able to reach me on my cell and I got hysterical.
I made it home and as the rest of the world, we stayed glued to the TV for the next 48 hours. I am lucky, my family is in tact. My city is not what it once was, or what it will be again, but things can be replaced. People, innocent people were butchered by a man who is worse than anyone I can think of in the last 50 years, he is Hilter, Pol Pot, Adi Amin.
I have always chided my students that they owe the country two minutes of respect in the am when they pledge and sing the star spangled banner. No Such chiding is needed any more.
I haven't been down to what is now called ground zero, but I have no desire. I cannot bear the thought of seeing the piles of rubble, the decay, the debris. I have to go to Manhattan next week by subway. I know I am not looking forward to it but I will do it, I can't let the bastards win.
I am deeply sadden by all the events of that day and although some of my life is getting back to "normal" I can't hear a siren without getting upset or listen to certain songs without crying. Sometimes, I cry without any provocation, although do I need any?
I light candles, make sandwiches, contribute money and pray. I don't know what else I can do.
God Bless America.
--
Spock
Note: Experiencing a tragedy, the real life story of Spock in New York City on 11-9-2001
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