It was February 26, 1993. I was 21 years old and working at my very first job out of school working in the HR department for Guy Carpenter, a Reinsurance Company, located in 2 World Trade Center. It was about 12:15 and I was sitting at my desk talking to my sister who also worked in downtown Manhattan a few blocks from me and we were making lunch plans. All of a sudden all of the lights went out and my chair had shot back about a foot from where I was initially sitting. I told my sister something strange had just happened and I would have to call her back. Little did I know when I hung up what the next 8 hours, or the next three months for that matter, lay ahead.
Lots of phone calls were made to the security desk and we were initially informed that lightning hit the building. It was snowing out our windows, but given how high up we were, it wasn't uncommon to see snow when it was actually raining down at the street level. Initially we were told to take a long lunch... until we got to the elevators to find they weren't working - we could actually hear the people yelling who were trapped inside the elevators. We all filed to the stair wells only to find that it was jammed with all of the people from the 50+ floors above us trying to get out as well. There was no emergency lighting in the stair wells and you literally could not see your hand in front of your face. To say it was scary would be an understatement.
1993 was not the age of cell phones or social media so by the time I got out of the building, 6 hours later, I still had no clue that I had actually experienced the first attack on the World Trade Centers. My parents were living in Virginia, and they actually knew what happened before I did. They hadn't heard from me, so they had no idea if I was ok or not.
By the time I finally made it back to where I was living on Staten Island it was hours later because tunnels, public transportation and the ferries had all been shut down. It wasn't until I got home and looked in a mirror that I realized the true impact of the day. I was completely covered in black soot. I had been wearing a white sweater that was completely black. For weeks after, every time I washed my hair or blew my nose, there was the black sooty reminder of that day.
I think I was in shock in the first few days. I cried a little when I saw the footage on TV or heard the President talk about it, but for the most part I kept everything bottled in. Our company had to be relocated to temporary office space until the building was reopened. Some people did not return to work for fear of what else was to come. I did go back to work in 2 World Trade for another year and a half, but I don't think I truly dealt with all of my emotions from that day until I had actually moved to Virginia and saw the footage on TV from the 1995 Oklahoma bombing. I remember just staring at the TV and sobbing. I didn't know anyone in Oklahoma, it didn't directly impact me, but I could relate, and that's when it all hit me.
Fast forward to 2001. I am somewhat of a newly wed and ecstatic to be 7 months pregnant with our first baby. Again, I was at work, the company I still work for now, and someone came running back to the back offices where I was and said that planes had hit the World Trade Center. We had no TV's in our office at the time so I was scrambling to find a radio to hear what was going on. I couldn't for the life of me comprehend what I was hearing. The towers had fallen, how could that be? They fell after only hours after the initial impacts. Knowing how long it took me to get out of the building that day back in 1993 I knew the devastation and amount of lives that were lost was going to be huge - but in retrospect I really had no idea. I remember my boss arriving to work and asking me why I was crying so uncontrollably. He sent me home. When I got home and saw over and over again the towers crumbling down all I could think about was thank God it was the beginning of September and there were no class trips to the Observation Deck - trips I had taken numerous times as an elementary school student. I kept thinking somewhere in all of that ruble was the desk I sat in. The shops in the concourse I used to shop in. The newspaper stand I used to buy my magazines. The Ben and Jerry's I used to get my afternoon treat from. The subway station I used to catch my train. They showed papers flying all around and all I could think was somewhere in all of that was my personnel file. There were people that I knew that were still inside that building.
Today I went to church and before the preacher started his sermon the lights dimmed and a screen with with words September 11, 2001 appeared. I didn't even have to see the horrible images that followed before I started crying. It's been 10 years now and one would think that maybe seeing those images, or hearing the stories from the people who had lost their whole lives that day when a loved one didn't make it home, or stories of the survivors or hero's would get easier. For me though, each passing year seems to get just a little bit harder. Maybe it's because I was born and raised in New York, maybe it's because of all my memories, maybe it's because I'm a mom now and I know that my children will never know the world I knew before it became such a scary place. Maybe it's because I'm older and I've come to the realization that I'm not as immortal as I used to think I was. Either way - September 11 - I will not forget....I will always remember.
