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
Experiencing a tragedy, the real life story of Spock in New York City on 11-9-2001
|
