I was only supposed to be in New York for a few days. I was travelling across the country with my friend Dion. The two of us were working the state fair circuit, and we had just finished the Minnesota State fair. The next fair was over a week away in Massachusetts, so we were doing some sight seeing. We spent 3 days in Washington D.C. before moving on to the Big Apple.

We arrived in New York in the afternoon on Sunday, September 9th, 2001. We were excited because we had a great room at the Millenium Hilton... directly across the street from the World Trade Center. It had a breathtaking view of the two towers.

I spent Sunday night walking the city. I saw a movie and visited a psychic as part of some research I'm doing for a screenplay. The psychic told me that I'm cursed and that I have a "heavy heart". She told me that she would pray for me if I gave her more money! I laughed cuz she was a classic scam artist, but in retrospect those statements seem pretty prophetic.

On Monday, September 10th, I took pictures of the World Trade Center's twin towers from the Statue of Liberty ferry. I had no way of knowing that those buildings had less than 24 hours to stand.

After a full day of touring the city, I arrived outside my hotel around 1 a.m. I was so happy with the wonderful day that I'd had, that I took a moment to say thank you. I stood on Church St. directly below the two towers and smiled as I gazed skyward. There was nobody else around. Then I went into my hotel.

I wasn't tired, despite having walked up and down the city in the rain all day long. I talked with Dion a little bit about what a great day I'd had. He was in a good mood as well, having seen a Broadway production from the first row, center seat. I fell asleep with my clothes on. I was on the 14th floor, next to the window.
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At 8:30, I woke up. Dion and I spent the next few minutes discussing our options. We were supposed to check out of the hotel by noon, but we didn't really need to be in Massachusetts for a few more days. We were talking about finding a cheaper hotel and spending one more day in the city when we heard a plane roar overhead. I remember we looked at each other with concern. Then we heard the sound of a massive explosion.

I was lying on a cot right next to the window and I turned and looked up at an immense fireball exploding from the tower above me. "Dion, there's an explosion at the World Trade Center!" I said. He leapt out of bed and pressed himself against the window. I hadn't even put on my glasses yet.

The next few minutes seemed like hours. Within seconds, I could see people pouring out of the building. The streets were filled with people... debris... police and rescue vehicles. The air was littered with files and papers. It looked like a ticker tape parade only we were seeing office work and computer paper. Smoke poured from the blackened hole in the tower. Everywhere I looked I saw chaos. Dion picked up his cell phone and called his girlfriend while I fired off the last couple pictures on my last roll of film.

Within 3 minutes the t.v. was reporting that a plane had hit the tower. We had thought maybe it was a missile... definitely a terrorist attack, but the news seemed to think it was an accident.

Dion finished his phone call. "A lot of people just died" he said to me as we gazed up at the crash sight. I took the phone and dialed my Mom.

"Mom. Are you watching the news?"

"No." she told me.

"Turn on the t.v. A plane just hit the World Trade Center right outside my window. I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm o.k."

Then the cell lost it's signal. Hundreds of people were trying to reach their loved ones. It would be more than an hour before I got through to my Mom again. I later found out that when the first tower collapsed, my sister fell to the ground in a fetal position thinking I had just died.

After losing the signal with my Mom, I stood transfixed at the window watching what I can only describe as the world ending. It was at this moment that I saw the first body falling from the sky.

At first, I refused to believe that I had just seen a person drop hundreds of stories to his death. I wanted to think that it was something else, or at least if it was a person, surely he was already dead. It had to be a dead body... not a living person racing toward the pavement. But then I saw it again. And again. They were kicking their legs and flailing their arms as they fell. I imagine they were screaming too, but I couldn't hear anything but muffled sirens through the heavy soundproofed window of our hotel room.

It was the most horrible thing I've ever witnessed. I was helpless to do anything but watch as men and women rained from the sky. I was close enough to see what they were wearing... if they were in business attire or jeans. I watched a man kicking his legs as he fell, and I remember thinking "My God... you're alive right now... and now... you're not." It took a long time from the moment I started watching him till the moment he disappeared behind WTC 5. Thank God that little building was there, or I would have seen him hit the ground. I was spared that much at least.

There was screaming coming from the hallway outside my room. Someone ran by in tears. The intercom announced "There has been an explosion at the World Trade Center. Please stay in your room. It is the safest place for you to be."

I looked at the scene before me and had to agree. All I saw out my window was horror. There were hundreds of people all over the street... smoke above me... papers and glass and debris everywhere... and all kinds of emergency response vehicles arriving every minute. Compared to the chaos of the street, my room was very peaceful. I felt like if I left the hotel anything could happen to me. Another person fell from the sky and I told Dion "I can't watch this anymore. I'm gonna try to call my Mom again."

I stepped away from the window and I heard the terrible sound of another plane and then another explosion. Dion was at the window screaming. I ran back to the window and for the first time I thought I was going to die... right there at that very moment.

This explosion was bigger than the first one and closer to us... and it was coming right at me. I saw fire and what looked like a huge piece of the building rushing toward our hotel and I thought it was literally going to hit me. Or that the building was going to fall over. Or that another plane was on its way.

I remember that explosion consumed my entire view. I couldn't even see the sky.

The fact that our window didn't shatter from the shockwave alone is miraculous to me. I leapt away from the window and began putting on my shoes. I told Dion I was "getting the f*ck outta here". I realized at that point that this was no accident and that we were being attacked. And I realized that I was about to willingly enter that chaos in an attempt to survive what was obviously the most daring terrorist attack this country had ever seen.

The hotel intercom squawked again. A man with a terrified voice was speaking. "Everybody please report to the lobby immediately. That's everybody! Staff... Guests... EVERYBODY. Go to the lobby now."

I was done tying my shoes and I told Dion to take his cell phone with him and that I would call him from the street and we'd meet up then. He was still in his underwear standing at the window when I left.
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I entered the stairwell and took my place among the other evacuating guests and the cleaning staff. The woman below me, a hotel maid, was crying uncontrollably in fear. At one point, she looked over her shoulder at me and apologized for being so hysterical. I forced a smile and said it was o.k.

We popped out of the stairwell and into a laundry room. A hotel employee was frantically trying to direct us to the lobby. He was screaming. He had lost all composure. "Who can I trust to lead these people out of here?! Bill! Take these people to the lobby!"

A business man next to me screamed "Where's Bill! Who do I follow?!"

The line started moving and we made our way to the lobby. When we got there, it was full of people. Through the revolving doors I could see unthinkable chaos. The street was dark from all the smoke overhead. The air looked gray. We were ushered to a side door where another employee said "Leave through here and get as far away as you can." Then I stepped onto the street.
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I was on the corner of Church and Fulton (I believe). I started walking east, away from the towers. All around me was the debris from the towers: books, papers... shoes. Windows had shattered in shops and businesses, and there was glass everywhere. I saw a business man in the middle of the street bend over and pick up a credit card that had fallen out of the sky. He just held it up and stared at it in shock.

There were people everywhere. On the sidewalks, in the streets... running away from the towers, running toward the towers, standing in shock... it was chaos. All I could hear were the sounds of sirens from every direction. Some people who stuck around near the base of the towers reported being horrified by the sound of the bodies hitting the ground. I'm glad I didn't hear that. I think that would have haunted me forever.

I had nothing but the clothes I was wearing and my backpack. My backpack contained a map of New York, my journal with a couple of phone numbers scrawled in the back, and my camera. I decided I should buy some film.

I continued east for a minute and found a little store that was still open (most of the places on this street had locked their doors). I spent my last $10 on 2 rolls of film. The man in the shop was kind enough to let me use his phone, but it wouldn't work. I thanked him anyway and continued on.

20 minutes had probably passed since the second plane crash. I loaded my camera and started taking pictures. I was debating whether or not to get closer to the scene, but every cell in my body told me to get out of there. I started walking north along Broadway, stopping occasionally to take a photo or listen to people's stories.

I talked with a man who was in the second building when the first plane hit. He described how they told everyone to stay put but that he had decided to flee. He had about a 10 minute head start before the second plane struck his building. He was in the stairwell when the plane hit. He commented on how lucky he was. "I got out... but how many of my coworkers did not? People I know, people I pass on the elevator each day... what's happened to them?" This was probably 20 or 30 minutes before that building was to collapse.

I was aimlessly heading north. I had no idea where to go. I was only interested in finding a phone and getting as far away as possible. There were hundreds of people just like me everywhere I looked. The phone booths had lines 10, 20 people long. People had pulled their cars over and opened all the doors with the radio blaring so that anyone who wanted to hear the news could listen. Some of these vehicles had crowds 50 people deep.

I was very concerned that there may be more targets in the city. Since I didn't know the city all that well, I was afraid that I might be unwittingly heading into a more dangerous situation. I knew I should stay away from Times Square, The Empire State Building, and Grand Central Station... but I also recognized that the subways were likely targets and that I could be walking over a potential explosion at any second. I was thinking of the Tokyo sarin nerve gas attacks.

I decided to head to Bleecker St. where I had eaten the night before. I figured it was far enough away from the two towers at least, and that I would be safe if there was another attack, or a stampede... or if the buildings collapsed. I remember thinking that that was a possibility, but in such a worst case scenario kind of way that I didn't really believe it possible. I hoped that I could find a phone on Bleecker St. where there were probably less people migrating north.

I had almost reached Bleecker St. when I decided to stop and listen to the news coming from a car where a group was gathering. Someone told me that the Pentagon had just been hit. My initial thought was relief. I felt like there were probably not going to be any other targets in New York, and that for the time being at least, I was probably safe. I was also shocked at the possibility that the whole nation may be experiencing what I was going through. Then someone shouted that the first tower was collapsing.

I was somewhere on Houston St., about a mile north of the World Trade Center. I remember feeling numbed and horrified. I was shocked. I thought that if the tower had collapsed, then surely my hotel had been flattened. I immediately accepted the fact that I had just lost all my stuff back at the hotel. I didn't want to think about all the people I had seen standing around back there while I was trying to get away. Or whether or not Dion was still there. I started to look for a phone.

Surprisingly, there was a phone booth near me without a line. I thought it must me dead, but I got a dial tone so I called my Mom again. I told her she needed to call people for me and let them know I was o.k. I remember trying to explain to her that I had absolutely no idea what was going to happen next, but that the crowd seemed calm and people weren't stampeding or looting. On the contrary, I was impressed with how compassionate and caring everybody seemed to be. There was a real sense of community and a general feeling that we were all in this together.

I told my Mom that I didn't know where I was going to go. I didn't know where my friend Dion was or even if he was alive. I told her that news on the street was very sketchy and asked her to tell me what was happening. She confirmed that the first tower had collapsed and that the pentagon had been hit by a plane as well. I finally hung up and let the growing line of people behind me contact their loved ones.

I headed back a few streets along Thompson St. where I had a clear view of the remaining tower. I was talking to people on the street when it too began to collapse. I took a series of photographs as the building disappeared, and then I photographed the horrified crowd behind me. One of the guys I had been speaking to threw up. Another guy told me he had an apartment nearby and offered the use of his phone.
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Sergio was one of many New Yorkers who reached out to me that day. He gave me a safe place away from the chaos where I could lay low and gather my senses. I stayed with him and his roommates for a few hours, occasionally making phone calls and watching the news reports. I hadn't eaten all day and he gave me some food also.

I was able to call a handful of my friends and family members from his phone as well. Many of the people I talked to were shocked. They had no idea I was even in New York. I finally got word that Dion was alive when my Mom told me she had talked with his boss and that Dion's cell phone was dead and that's why he hadn't returned any of my increasingly frantic calls.

One of Sergio's roommates was from France, and she had been able to reach her parents who told her something that really disturbed me. They asked her if she was o.k. and explained that the French media thought it might be an anthrax attack. I knew that access to and from Manhattan had been shutdown, and at that moment I considered the possibility that we were being locked off from the world and not being told what was going on to prevent panic. I thought there was a very real possibility that I might be exposed to something biological and that I might already be dead.

My mom found a place for me to stay through the boss of a second cousin I had never met. It meant walking 5 miles north to the Upper East Side of Manhattan. I thanked Sergio and his roommates and took to the streets once again.
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I cried for the first time as I walked to my temporary new home. I kept seeing the second explosion and thinking about what that meant for the plane load of people and the hundreds inside the tower. I kept seeing those people I had watched leaping to their deaths. I thought about how many people must have still been inside the towers when they collapsed, and of the people on the street who were unable to get away. I felt overwhelmed with sadness. Indeed, the air itself seemed to be permeated with grief and pain. Everyone around me was silent as we continued north.

Aside from the haunting lack of cars in the streets, things seemed much more normal the farther north I walked. I reached Shelly's apartment a few hours later feeling more tired than I've ever felt in my life. I was physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted.
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The next few days saw me coming down with a nasty stress related head cold which I still haven't shaken. I lost everything at the hotel including 90% of my wardrobe and about 30 of my favorite cd's. I lost all of the film I shot while in Washington D.C. and many personal souvenirs and mementos. Dion lost his van and all of our supplies for the fair. While there is a possibility Dion and I may be able to salvage some of this stuff in time, we both feel very lucky to have gotten out with our lives and I cannot stress how thankful I am for that.

I walked away from my experience in New York with a new outlook on life. I watched people falling face first from a burning building... people who thought they had tomorrow to do the things they wanted to do in life, or to say "I love you" or "I'm sorry" to the people they cared about.

My message to you is that this could've been any one of you. It very easily could have been me. I've spent the last few weeks starting over and re-evaluating my life. Things that mattered to me before this seem so unimportant to me now. Things that upset me before this mean nothing to me now. I made peace with my ex-girlfriend a week after the attack. I've tried not to let opportunities slip past to tell my loved ones that I care about them. And I've been actively looking at my life in an attempt to get things done that are important to me.

I hope that after reading about my experience you'll take a moment to evaluate what's really important to you as well. I'm sure it's not your closet full of clothes or your car or your music collection.

I hope that when you're done reading this you'll take a moment to tell someone you love them.


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