Tuesday morning, September 11th, 2001. I walked to my 8am class, glancing casually up at the twin towers and taking advantage of their beauty; rarely do I ever bother to look up in Manhattan. After all, they've been there for longer than I've been alive. My professor decided to let us out early because we had covered all the necessary material for the day, so I emerged from the basement classroom just before 9am (instead of 9:15am) and began walking to my next class. As I was walking I began to smell something funny in the air, but in Manhattan one tends to ignore strange smells (the whole city, after all, smells funny). I then accidentally bumped into someone, who proclaimed, “HEY a plane just crashed into the World Trade Centre! We’re under attack by terrorists and we’re all going to DIE!”. I put off the woman as some escaped lunatic and walked on. I tried to call my Mum, but strange, my cell phone wasn’t working...Walking along W 4th St., something made me look up just in time to witness the second plane slam through the south tower – the top of the north tower was already in flames. I stared in horror as flames and smoke engulfed the tops of the towers: the woman wasn’t lying! People were leaping from the windows of the towers...it was by far the most horrific scene I had ever seen. I ran to the nearest payphone to call my mum and tell her I was ok and to ask about my dad, who also worked in Manhattan. She assured me that he was fine (though he had just been to the towers the day prior). By the time I hung up the phone, all the lines were swamped, and no one else could get through.
And the horrors kept getting worse. My flatmates and I took comfort in each other's company, jumping every time a cell phone beeped or a plane flew overhead. The fact that we knew those planes had to be military aircrafts was little consolation. Neither land lines nor cell phones worked; however, whenever someone left a message on one of our cell phones the message alert went off, and kept going off. We eventually turned them off, avoiding the torment of knowing that there was a message waiting which we could not access. By the time we watched the towers finally fall (thankfully, they fell straight down) there was nothing left for us to do; we slept, succumbing to the feelings of helplessness and fear, well into the evening.
Living on Union Square (14th St.), anything north of us never really closed, except for the subways. It was strange walking down the street and seeing the barricades on my street with NYPD and armed army personnel guarding them (we had to show our NYU ids to pass the barricades, proving we had business going down there). Winds shifted, however, blowing smoke, disgusting smells and, we were told at the time, dangerous chemicals our way. The smoke was so thick that I couldn’t see my hand placed right in front of my face, and security guards discouraged us from leaving, insisting on face masks if we did. It took days to open Manhattan to the south, eventually to as far as Canal St.; subways ran sporadically, randomly shutting down and detouring. Only during the last week of September was lower Manhattan opened; thousands of NYU students had to stay in hotels uptown or with friends during those weeks without any of their belongings. Street vendors selling cheap underwear and socks must have done quite the business. Homeless NYU students were each given $200 to buy clothing and necessities; they learned just how far a small amount of money can go in an emergency.
But there is great resilience in the hearts of New Yorkers. Thousands stood on lines for hours to blood - I was among them. Others donated food, clothing, and supplies to those who'd lost their homes, and to the doctors, nurses, EMTs, firemen, officers, and thousands of other public workers who spend long hours trying to rescue, treat, and recover the countless victims. 
People ran down the streets with American Flags, proving once again that though bruised, we are most definitely not beaten.
I send out a plea to all those who can to continue to help out as much as you can. Keep up with the news and write your representatives. This situation has gone horribly out of hand; it doesn't have to be this way. Keeping other countries in-line with nukes is NOT a solution; even our dumbass quasi president's father wasn't that stupid. My sympathy goes out to all those who suffer as a result of the new war, and also to the families that have lost someone, most specially to all the firemen and rescue workers still missing. They are the bravest people I've ever known. As of October 4, 2001, 5,325 people are still missing and presumed dead; as one construction worker put it: "It's one big demolition job now".
Melissa Branco, 4 October 2001.
After six months, I've finally posted my own memorial
One year later, I return to remember, so that perhaps I can finally move on...
Offical Updates
On April 15, 2002, the Official Death Count was filed at 8:37pm ET revealing the following numbers:
New York: 2,824
Washington: 189
Pennsylvania: 44
Total: 3,057
Though that's still a lot of people, it amazes me how many people survived.
Links
Please click here to read an amazing article
WTC Montage (takes time to load)
Official lyrics to Ani Difranco's poem, Self Evident
Six months later: A nation and a world, changed - March 11, 2002
U.S. marks 6 months since September 11 - March 11, 2002
