It was a beautiful blue-sky September morn. September 11, 2001. As soon as I got to the office, however, the world was turned upside down. Someone had the radio on and got the news of the first hit (8:46). The thinking was Oh my God a plane got off course and crashed. Then shortly after that the second plane hit (9:03). Then the Pentagon (9:37). Then the field in Pennsylvania (10:03). The terrifying realization that our country had been attacked was overwhelming. Within 1 Hour and 17 minutes the world had changed. We all just wanted to get home, and the uncertainty of how we could do that was overwhelming. Phone service was on overload and cell networks collapsed. Bridges and tunnels were closed. So, getting to New Jersey was going to be challenging.

Two of my closest friends were out of town for business that day and I knew they were OK. My friend Julie worked a block away and we decided we would face this together.

The air was heavy with smoke and ash. That’s all you could smell. And the thought of what was burning would give people nightmares for years to come.

We decided to start walking to the Hudson River because ferry service was running non-stop for rescue downtown and to get people off of the island. Unfortunately, neither of us had taken the ferry in that morning so we had no car in Weehawken. We figured we would try to get someone to pick us up once we got there. I knew my neighbor Leo would come to get us if I could get in touch with him.

Fortunately, I had good walking shoes on. We got bottled water at the office and set off for the walk of about 2 miles. The city was unusually quiet. No cars were honking. The traffic lights were all out and regular people were taking turns directing traffic. Obviously, there were no police around to do this. People had to take on the responsibility of helping each other out. Bridges had been reopened for outgoing traffic only by afternoon. Tunnels remained closed except for emergency vehicles. It was inspiring to see how friendly everyone was to each other. Everyone was caring how each other was managing.

We made it to the Hudson along with 100’s and 100’s of other people all trying to get home. It was amazing how everyone was. It was as though we were all friends with a common goal. We queued up for the wait. Everyone had a shell-shocked look on their face. Some were covered in dust. There was a decontamination tent as well as medical assistance on the other side of the river. We were fortunate enough to literally bump into my friend’s cousin as we were waiting. She had driven to the ferry that morning so now we had a ride home. You could hear other people offering rides to total strangers. It was so overwhelming and to this day it brings tears to my eyes remembering how everyone was depending on the kindness of others.

That night after my family was satisfied that I was safe, my neighbors gathered for a glass (or 2) of wine. This feeling of kindness and caring carried over to our return to the office. I think most people took the next day off. No matter what happened to us, we all needed to resume our lives and not let evil take over. That’s what they wanted but there was no way New York would allow that to happen. For quite a stretch of time people were smiling at others as they walked by, and everyone was especially appreciative of our police and firemen. As the days passed there were music concerts and The Who belted out “we won’t get fooled again”. There were dedications at ball games honoring those who died and those who responded.

I was acquainted with three souls lost that day. One was a fireman, one was a broker, one was a priest. Father Mychal Judge from St Francis of Assisi on West 31st street was also part of my life. That was the church I went to on holy days of obligation (or when I needed it) when I worked midtown for many years. He was the Chaplain to the fireman, and he went to the towers to help and was the first identified person who lost their life that day. Every year when the names are read, I listen for theirs.

I wish that the feeling of “brotherly love” was still evident today. One should learn so much from all of this. United We Stand….

And to this day, 25 years later when I leave the house I always make sure my shoes can get me through several miles of walking, and I always have a small bottle of water and a granola bar in my bag. One just never knows…