Tag Archives: Twin Towers

September 11, 2023

Embedded in our hearts and minds forever

By davidgroen1

While I knew I had to write something about 9/11 in honor of what took place 22 years ago, it wasn’t until I saw 60 minutes that I had a more clear idea of the message I wished to convey. I urge you all to watch the 60 minutes episode dedicated to the heroics of the firemen on that day. It made me realize that on that day New York consisted of 3 categories of individuals. Witnesses, heroes, and victims. It also made me realize that the most important message coming from the memory of that day comes down to one word. Responsibility.

There are different levels of suffering or sadness caused by devastation and tragedy. When we look at the Holocaust, those who had to hide in fear and run for their lives suffered differently than those that went to the camps. Those who survived the camps suffered differently than those who were murdered in the gas chambers. And while human nature causes us to judge things on levels, since the impact each incident has is also determined by the mental and physical makeup of whomever is experiencing these events, to compare them is not only impossible, it is unfair. These are all victims on some level. As someone who was in NY on September 11, 2001, I see this in a similar light, but with one important difference. I realize today how 9/11 helped me form my own personal sense of responsibility and understanding of what I am. I am not a victim. I am a witness. As a witness it will forever be my responsibility to share what I witnessed and how I felt on that day.

There are moments in our lives that are forever embedded in our memory. Then there are days when those moments are magnified on a level unlike all other days. Here are the moments I will never forget from that fateful day.

On September 11th I was living in Forest Hills, a beautiful and active neighborhood in the borough of Queens in New York City. My apt, 10L had a view, albeit distant, of Manhattan. Of course the taller the building, the easier it was to see, making the Twin Towers visible on most days. Visibility however was not an issue on this day, because one of the common memories shared by most people in NY on that day was that the weather could not have been more perfect. It was a comfortable temperature and not a cloud in the sky, and I can tell you with complete honesty and sincerity that there is no other day I have been alive that I remember the weather more clearly. For on this day the contrast between beauty and horror is one of my most indelible memories.

On September 11th I was in a long distance relationship with a woman in St. Louis. We had become very close, so when there was any type of major event we wished to share it with each other. So when I saw Dick Oliver of the local Fox station report on a plane hitting one of the towers, I called her to tell her something big had happened. https://youtu.be/0_CrzPvcY3o?si=omNQimalUIfmuJm5 We both turned on Good Morning America and soon after there was a report of the incident in the first tower. I managed to take a picture of the first tower burning, not knowing that I was memorializing history in the process.

Many still believed this was an awful accident, as nothing specific had yet indicated that this was an act of terror. Being one of those people I felt it was safe to make my way to work.

On September 11th the location of my job was in Brooklyn. To get to Brooklyn I had to take the F train into Manhattan where I would switch to the D train at the 34th street station. On my ride on the F train I began to hear that there was a second plane that had hit the other tower and that now it was apparent that this was a terrorist attack. I remember seeing women crying on the train in a way that people cry when they fear the loss of a loved one. I remember the train stopping with only the front car in the station and all of us being evacuated to that front car and told to leave the station. As I walked out of the station what I saw became one of those indelible memories. Standing on the corner of 36th Street and 7th Avenue, just steps away from Macys, I saw throngs of people, all walking one direction, uptown, away from the towers. And then I walked to a store front where I saw another image embedded in my brain. It was a TV that was on ABC, where the caption read, “World Trade Center, Attacked and Destroyed”. All trains in Manhattan were suspended, so I decided to begin a walk back towards home. On my way uptown I saw the image that represented the tragedy and horror of the day over every other image I would see that day. I will share that with you shortly, but first I will share 2 more images that are forever imbedded in my memory. The two things I remember when crossing what was then known as the 59th street bridge, a bridge connecting Manhattan to Queens. One of those images was in front of me, the other to my right. The first image was that of a woman walking before me, covered in the grey soot seen on so many people on that day. The soot seen on people so close to the catastrophe, that they were physically impacted by what had happened. The second image was to my right. This image was of a trail of smoke coming from downtown, from what would be a gaping hole not only in downtown Manhattan, but in the hearts of all New Yorkers.

On September 11th I was closer to devastation and tragedy on a mass scale than I had ever been in my life. Part of what made it so awful was that in being able to see the horrific images of the 2 planes hitting the buildings and the building collapsing, those closest to the nearly 3,000 souls murdered, the boyfriends and girlfriend, husbands and wives, sons and daughters, friends, and fathers and mothers, would forever see them die before their very eyes. Which brings me to the moment I will have etched in my brain for all my days, the one that most represents the day for me. As I was walking uptown towards 59th street, to my right off of one of the corners a car was parked with its doors open. The radio was loud, and as was the case with any station broadcasting that morning, it was reporting on the attack. Standing near the car was an Asian couple probably in their 50s, the woman sobbing uncontrollably and the man walking back in forth in a panic, tears flowing down his cheeks. While I will likely never have the opportunity to confirm what I thought, I was sure as I walked past this couple, that I was looking at parents that had a child working in one of those towers. It was at this moment, with that image that will be in my head till the day I die, that the harshest reality of that day sunk in.

On September 11th normal every day working people were killed just for being at work or having the misfortune of being on one of the planes used to attack the Towers, the Pentagon, or whatever destination the plane in Pennsylvania was headed for. Firemen risked or lost their lives attempting, and in miraculous fashion saving thousands of people from the burning towers. People were physically or emotionally scarred forever by being in or near the towers on that day, many dying in the years that followed as a result. People lost loved ones and subsequently had their lives changed forever.

On September 11th I was merely a witness. I can not begin to imagine or understand the pain of those closest to the tragedy, for even as someone far removed from what they went through, I am left with a feeling of sadness and pain that will be with me forever. And yet, I am very cognizant of the fact that it is incumbent on me to make sure people do not forget the horrors people endure from the hands of others if I bear witness or hear testimony. It is something I carry with me daily as I tell the story of my ancestors and others killed in the Holocaust. It is the responsibility that is on someone far enough removed to not be incapacitated or weakened by these events, but close enough to them to feel true pain. It is the responsibility to let everyone know their one responsibility above all other responsibilities. That is to never forget, so that those who perished are never forgotten and so that even in their death, their lives always have great meaning.

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September 11, 2019

The Danger of the Diluted Memory

By davidgroen1

911.jpg

The view from my window on September 11, 2001

At about 1 AM this morning I was in my car and I began to realize how many memories I had filed away from 18 years ago.  There were literally tens of thousands of people whose experience that day was worse than mine, but like so many other New Yorkers who saw parts of it live and spent part of that day in Manhattan, the horrors of that day were very real to me.  Even so it took a mental jolt, one caused by a friend changing a picture on Facebook to bring me back to what I remember from that day, and to remind me of how important it sometimes is to remember the things we want to forget the most.

Everyone who was in New York on Tuesday, September 11, 2001, a day that was originally an election day, will remember that the weather was so perfect, that in retrospect it was eerie.  When I saw Dick OIiver of FOX 5 NY first reporting an incident, I recall him saying that it had appeared that a twin engine jet had hit one of the Twin Towers.  Since at the time I was living on the 10th floor of an apartment in Forest Hills, Queens, I was able to see the towers from my window.  Seeing the smoke coming the first tower from the window made this all very real very quickly, but what it did not immediately do was make it clear to me that it was an attack.  There were many, including myself who initially thought it was a terrible accident.  Regardless, there was nothing that my staying at home was going to do for anyone so I made my way to the train which going through Manhattan would eventually get me to Brooklyn where I worked at the time.

Some of the images that stuck with me most on that day were the images of people whose expressions of panic and devastation implied they had people in the towers.  At least back then, whenever a major news or sports story hit, there were enough people talking about it on the subway for someone to get wind of what was happening.  So by the time the train was just a few stops in I knew a second plane had hit.  Within a few stops I saw 2 young women crying uncontrollably, looking as though they had a person or people they loved in peril.   When the train arrived at the 34th street and 6th Avenue station it was evacuated, the first car being the car with open doors while all the remaining cars, of which one was the one I was in moving towards the front.  When I got out into the street there were 3 memories that will remain with me forever.  The first one was the fact that the streets were filled with people, and that almost all of these people had one thing in common.  They were walking uptown.  The general feeling seemed to be more of a focused numbness than anything else.  There were no smiles, not a lot of talking and throngs of people doing the only thing that made sense at that moment.  To get as far away from downtown as quickly as possible.

The second thing I remember was standing in front of a store front and seeing the TV on what I remember was WABC NY, with the image of what would later be known as Ground Zero and the words, “Twin Towers, attacked and destroyed”.  Once again it felt very real.

The third thing I remember is something I rarely speak of, likely due to the incredibly sad futility of it and the fact that I will either never know what it was or worse, the fact that what it was would only be described as one of the saddest things I will ever see in my life.  On a side street there was a white car, with the windows down and the news blasting from its speakers, and outside there was what I am guessing was a Japanese couple most likely in their late 40s or 50s, the man pacing back and forth and together with his female companion sobbing almost to the point of screams.  All I could imagine was that their child was in one of the towers, and somehow they knew that he or she had been killed in the attacks.

I remember the fear I felt by the rumor that there were more planes unaccounted for, and knowing that being around the corner from the Empire State Building made us all vulnerable.  I remember walking to and over the 59th Street Bridge, looking downtown and seeing the trail of smoke, while walking next to people covered in the grey dust that covered anyone who was close enough to feel the effects of the attack.  And I remember the smell.  Everyone who was in Manhattan either on that day or days following remembers the smell.  The smell of burning, the smell of devastation, the smell of death.

The worst thing about everything I have just recounted is what I said way back in the beginning of this piece, and that is that compared to many on that day, I saw and experienced nothing.

So 18 years later, as impactful of a day as that was, it was not till today at about 2 AM that I started to remember these things.  And it dawned on me once again how important it is to keep memories like this alive.  It dawned on me that I am very likely far from alone in allowing the memory of that day to become diluted.  And it brought me back again to the importance of reminding people of the things they sometimes want to forget the most.  If 18 years and 3,000 people later the memory of September 11th is weakened to me, someone who does care, it’s even more clear to me how important it is to keep talking about 75 years ago and 6 million.

May the souls of all of those lost on or as a result of September 11, 2001 always be blessed and may we honor them by never forgetting what happened on that awful day.

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