
Monday, September 11, 2023
Afternoon showers. High 77 degrees.
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Remembering September 11, 2001
By Carol Tannenhauser
I remember where I was on the morning of September 11, 2001: in the dining room of a homeless shelter on 155th Street and Frederick Douglass Boulevard, in front of a television set, sharing the horror and disbelief with a group of homeless men. I was desperate to reach my daughter who had taken the subway to the World Trade Center station that morning to get to work. She remembers she had just reached the top of the station’s stairs, when she looked up and saw the first plane hit.
Where were you? What do you remember? Too young? What have you heard? Tell us in the comments. 🙏🏻

Wishing those who were lost and their loved ones peace.
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I was at my desk in my midtown law firm when my wife called. It was an unusual time of day for her to call, and her reason for calling—a report that “a small plane” had hit the World Trade Center, left me a bit puzzled. We ended the brief call and I returned my attention to work stuff. I was again at my desk when a longtime client, who had some long ago CIA training, called to tell me that an airliner had hit the other tower of the Trade Center. Later that day, I stopped in at the 5:30 pm Mass at Blessed Sacrament Church on West 71st Street. I did not know that the Catholic Church had a “Votive Mass in Time of War”, but that was the special liturgy which was in use that evening.
I was at home about to leave for work when I saw my building (North Tower) burning on NY 1. The sudden close up showed the gaping hole where my company office was.
I was in sixth grade, sitting in Science Class. Our teacher turned on the TV, and we watched live footage of everything. I didn’t know if any of my family nearby was okay. Parents were pulling kids out of school almost by the hundreds. I didn’t understand what was happening. I felt so numb.
I was on top of the North Tower when I was a little kid in 1998, with my family. Little did we know, we would never be able to go back again.
I worked on Wall St near the corner of Wall and Broadway. After seeing the North tower on fire, curiosity got the best of me. I left work to go investigate. I was walking by the South tower when a cop stopped me and told me to turn around. I was angry at him because I wanted to see the hole on the north side. So I walked up a few stairs and got the best vantage point I could get standing in front of 1 Liberty Plaza.
About thirty seconds later there was a deafening noise getting louder and louder. I looked up and saw a plane hit the tower above me. The only thought in that millisecond was I’m going to die from the debris crashing down, as I was just across the street from impact. By the grace of God, I was quick on my feet and scurried into the lobby of 1 Liberty Plaza.
Walking around in shock, I kept noticing globs of fresh juicy fruit lying on the dust covered streets. After about the third pile which I almost stepped in, I said to myself, why is there so much fresh fruit people dropped? It was then I realized, that’s not fresh fruit, that’s chunks of flesh.
I evacuated and was way uptown when the towers collapsed. I still say a prayer to the policeman he turned me around. Otherwise, I would have been in the middle of the debris field with no place to hide. Did the cop survive? I sure hope so, but I doubt it. I was lucky. I survived when so many around me didn’t.
I had just started dating my boyfriend, who had just been hired and had to meet someone at the top of the north tower at 9am. He was late for the meeting and ended up in the south tower. He was trying to call to apologize for being late when he heard the 2nd plane hit above him. He assumed it was a bomb and made his way to the subway, where he got one of the last trains to the upper west side.
He was supposed to return to the UK to get a work visa but couldn’t leave for another week. We are now married, and I am thankful every day that he survived.
I was in a conference room waiting for a meeting to start (3 blocks away from WTC) when my building shook and the power went out and I had to run down stairs to get away from the place
I still haven’t been to the museum or memorial and I doubt I ever will. If people visit NY and want to go, I just point them downtown. I’ve no desire to see all that again.
I agree. For me the memorial is sacred for New Yorkers and those directly involved to grieve without my intruding. I have no judgement of those who visit. My thoughts and prayers I can do privately. Once, on passing St Paul’s Chapel, and unaware of its part played on that fateful day I stepped inside. Knowing I chose not to visit the memorial I believe the Lord guided me inside to witness its precious story and to offer my prayers there.
Same here. To me this place is a grave of my colleagues. I even avoided downtime for several years.
I was working in midtown for an Australian Bank. I assumed it was a small plane that hit the first tower, and was in denial when I heard about the 2nd tower (assumed rumors were getting out of control) and remained in denial when I heard it was a Boeing. It wasn’t until I heard that the Pentagon was hit that I knew this was serious. The bank ordered lunch for all of us, and later we sat in the trading room watching all the news footage. I walked home to my Upper East Side apartment with a colleague. My family could not get through to me on the phones but I did email them earlier that day that I was in midtown, far from WTC (actually only 3 miles away.) My sister did manage to get through to me later that night on the phone. I remember telling her that I could not understand how we let this happen.
I will never forget that moment…. Was on the phone with a client who had his TV on and he said …how weird a plane hit the twin tower. I couldn’t comprehend what he said so turned on my TV and was sitting in front of it in total shock. At first I thought it was an accident, but soon after realized it was targeted. Seeing the second hit was sickening. That horrible day still brings tears to my eyes.
I worked from 10:30 to 6:30 at the time and was getting ready to leave for work. On tv they said a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Very shortly thereafter they said subway service was disrupted so I decided to stay home for a while. It was Mayoral primary day so I thought it would be a good time to vote. I went to the polling place and voted (Herman Badillo). When I got back to my apartment CNN said that a tower had collapsed. I thought this was a sloppy use of language. My question was WHAT in the tower had collapsed? It was unimaginable that the whole thing had come down.
Stevie, that’s how I felt exactly. I was in LA at the time and first heard about it from NPR reporting on the radio on a drive into the office. By this time it was around 11am or noon in NYC and Steve Inskeep was relatively calm describing the towers being down. For the whole 30 minute drive I didn’t know what he meant. What do you mean down, gone, or collapsed?!?! I couldn’t make any sense of it until seeing the footage. A horrendous day but what has always stuck with me, besides the heroism and resolve in the City, was the tremendous outpouring of love from the rest of the world. NY is the world’s city and the world reacted as if its capital had been struck. Very moving.
Standing on Greenwich street right before work when i heard what i thought was people yelling after a car accident or something…stepped outside holding my cordless phone and realized everyone was yelling and pointing up to a giant orange hole in the first tower hit. And then we all stood there asking what in the fuck was happening as we watched the second plane hit the other tower and could literally NOT comprehend what was happening. I could go on but that was how it started 22 years ago at 8:46 in the morning. The rest of what we saw was chaos. Catastrophe and a city that would be forever changed.
I was about to leave for my job at Roosevelt Hospital as Volunteer Director.I was in the lobby for days trying to make sense of all of what had happened.
My memories remind me of just how great America is.The lobby quickly filled with the neighborhood that was wanting to do ANYTHING to help.
Sadly,we had no survivors only first responders with smoke inhalation and minor injuries.
This day is forever etched in my soul.
My daughter Michelle had her best friend Malissa visiting from upstate NY. On Monday night, 9/10, my husband asked Malissa if there was anything she wanted to see before she returned home. Malissa replied the Statue of Liberty. My husband replied they should get up early and have breakfast at Window on the World at the WTC and she would see everything. Melissa said yes but my daughter Michelle said absolutely no as they were attending an OTown concert, open admission, and she wanted to be first in line. Michelle was tenacious and won. Everyday on this saddest of days I have such gratitude for my family and such sadness for all the losses
I was on a trading floor of Citigroup on Greenwich Street in Tribeca. The first plane hit (8:46) and we were very concerned but not panicked, until the second plane hit (9:03). Everyone knew then that it was no coincidence.
We made our way downstairs to the street. We heard the sirens. Fire trucks, ambulances, and police were racing down West Street. We didn’t want to look up, but we did. It was horrifying.
Slowly we made our way walking uptown and at Christopher Street we stopped. We had a straight line view of the twin towers looking down 7th avenue. I wanted to take some cash out of the bank, just in case. Minutes later, I came out. There was only one tower.
I go to the fireman’s memorial on 100th and Riverside Dr. every year. Never forget!
Like the Kennedy assassination, one can not forget where you were and what you were doing on Sept. 11, 2001.
In 2011, the NY Times wrote an editorial which was less a memorial and more of a “let’s get over it and move on.” It was an incredibly tone-deaf and insensitive piece. Of course many of us go on living , but Sept. 11 will always be an emotional scar that we have learned to live with.
Oh, the sirens. Non-stop. And the pile: a pillar of smoke by day and fire by night.
I was preparing to go to a job recruiter at 1130 and just stepped out of the shower. I noticed I had a message on my answering machine. It was my friend’s voice from Florida. All she said was “Are you watching this?” I quickly turned on the television and saw the horror. Living on 21st Street in Chelsea, my sister, who was visiting, and I ran outside to look down the street at the black smoke billowing from the tower. After a while I went back inside to watch the coverage on TV. Suddenly I saw the the building slowly sink down, collapse on itself. I didn’t know that the first building had already collapsed. The rest of the day was a blur of connecting with friends in the city and airline friends at the airports. Just a frantic, numb day.
I was home from college (Sarah Lawrence in Westchester) so I could vote in the democratic primary. My mom woke me up to say something was going on in the news and we watched the second plane hit live. We were all just stunned and crying. I remember walking to the Hudson to see if we could see anything and it was such a beautiful, cloudless sunny day. I’m sure there were a lot of phone calls but I don’t remember them.
🌹We remember the sky that day – it was a heavenly cloudless blue..
I lived on 65th & 3rd back then. My daughter left her office and rushed over. Some of her college friends worked in the Towers; bright young men starting their careers. And my son who used to fly up from Miami every month happened to be in the city that day and he came over. So there we were, me and my precious children together, watching from my windows a seemingly never-ending silent procession up 3rd Avenue, people in states of shock, covered in white ash, walking ghost-like. 🌹
Anyone working, living or studying near the disaster zone in 2001 is entitled to free health services for any condition that might have been precipitated or caused by the chemical pollution that resulted from the explosions and fire. For example, all BMCC staff and students are eligible for health care if at any subsequent time in their lives they contract cancer, respiratory ailments, or any of a myriad of diseases that could been initiated by that pollution. Even if they are perfectly healthy and symptom-free now, should those diseases develop later in life, they would qualify for free medical services and monetary compensation for any of the specific covered conditions. But if they have not yet done, so, they should register right now and be able to prove that they were present during that time period
Thanks to the efforts of the actor Jon Stewart, billions of dollars were set aside by Congress to pay for those certified claims. Contact the World Trade Center Health Program or any of the various law offices that have been specializing in getting applicants registered in the program.
Unfortunately, if you live north of 14th street it doesn’t matter that you contracted thyroid cancer a short time later, you are ineligible for compensation. The fact that there are no barriers against wind blown pollution beyond Ground Zero, is in this city, inconsequential.
They came up with an arbitrary dividing line that’s unfair because, of course, the pollution spread everywhere. It’s very unfair to the people who developed cancer later on and might live out of the “designated” area.
It is a day that is used as an excuse to spew hate against Muslims and that’s sad.
Sadly you are right. It is so unfair.
I was supposed to be in 5 World Trade Center all that day, but I had changed my plans a few days earlier and so I sent two of my teammates in my place. They were both staying in the hotel that was attached to the south tower that morning. They were told by a PA system to stay in their rooms, but fortunately, one of them thought better of it and banged on the other’s door shouting at him to come out before he broke down “the f-ing door”. They succeeded in getting out of the building shortly before the south tower came down. They barely made it to safety. Then, covered in ash, they trudged uptown together to find shelter. I am extremely grateful that they survived, along with nearly every one of my colleagues in 5 WTC (apart from one heroic security guard, may he rest in peace). The abject horrors that they witnessed that day, what happened to them will never leave them. I feel a special guilt for having sent them there in my place. And I feel another guilt as a native New York who was living safely abroad at that time. I have never shaken the feeling that I should have been here, at home. My wife and I came back soon afterwards to start our family. And, apart from the occasional trip, we have no intention of ever leaving this town again.
Took my kid to her first day of preschool at the West aside Y. Nervous first-time mom, had laid out toddler summer clothes the night before, only to switch them to longer pants and sleeves for the first day of crisp Fall air. All the parents were early, gathered outside the classroom before 8:45 drop off. As we cheerfully introduced our kids to the classroom, a couple beepers went off (two parents had jobs nearby at ABC News.) One went near a window to make a return call, then left quickly. The kids didn’t have long for their first day. One mom tried to tell a toddler about “very bad men in an airplane” as they climbed into strollers in a rush. I left as calmly and normally as possible. There was no good information yet. I remember the weirdness as I pushed the stroller toward home, not able to reach my husband on my pre-smartphone cell. He was not planning to go to a monthly presentation at the Marriott near the WTC; I hoped he hadn’t changed his mind. Groups of people gathered on street corners, people re-trying non-working phones, phrases caught in passing (“…and a tower has fallen!”) A car exited a parking garage way too fast. I turned South down 9th Ave just north of 57th Street. I hadn’t thought of it as the crest of a hill before, but you can see a long way downtown from there. At the end of the view down the avenue was the huge mass of grey smoke bulges growing against the blue sky, bigger than any fire. It was real. I felt my knees buckle, surprised to learn what the phrase meant. Held on to the stroller handle. Got home. Lucky: husband was there. The next day of preschool, a few days later, there was a new family photo in my kids’ shared cubby. For that boy in the three-year olds class, Mom had not made it home.
Condolences to all, still and always.
It was a clear blue day. I arrived at the WTC via the PATH seconds before the first impact. While I was walking up the stairs, there were a lot of stairs, I heard several police officers running up the stairs behind me, their keys jangling. I thought they were chasing a crook. A few seconds later I smelled fire, like burning plastic. When I got to the top of the stairs someone was yelling “There’s a bomb in here”. I usually went all the way through the building to get to the west side but the closest doors were facing north so I went that way. Then people were yelling “Don’t go outside”. I pushed my way outside anyway and there were many people sort of standing around with paper floating in the air. I looked up and saw an immense fire and smoke plume. There were no first responders yet.
I made my way to Trinity Church and watched in disbelief with other people. That’s a big fire I thought but I have to go to work. Big project to do and all. When I got to work all the TVs were on the news. No one really knew what happened. We joked that our project would be delayed again. I went downstairs to Starbucks and then the second impact happened. It was chaos. People running everywhere, police, fire, ambulances.I still didn’t know what was happening so I went back upstairs.
When I heard the Pentagon was hit I thought this is serious. So I went downstairs to get a lot of cash
from Citibank. While I was getting the money everything started turning dark and rocks and things were hitting the windows. The Citibank alarm went off. The guy in the bank with me lit up a cigarette. I had quit smoking 6 months before but I said “Gimme one of those”. I thought the world was ending so I might as well have one last smoke.We stood there smoking with the alarm going off dumbfounded. About 10 minutes passed and someone was knocking on the door. We looked at each other. Should we open the door? We opened the door and a guy was there with a pile of soot on his head. We said what happened. He said “It fell”. We said “What fell”? It was inconceivable to me that the WTC could fall down.
When the smoke began to clear, about 20 minutes later, we started marching uptown with many other somber people. There were fighter planes zooming overhead and military helicopters circling. Scary machines if you’re not familiar with that. I thought we were in a war.The other tower fell. People were screaming and crying. It was hot and smokey. Emergency vehicles of every stripe were racing about.I asked the firemen at the 19th St firehouse if they needed help and that said no. Most restaurants closed but some let us use the bathrooms and gave us water. People were standing around in groups listening to car radios.
I got to someplace in the 50s, about 4PM, and took a tugboat back to Edgewater and walked to Hoboken where I lived. I went to my favorite restaurant, Amandas and ordered a steak dinner and a bottle of wine. I chugged 2 pitchers of water. I was the only one there. I was filthy dirty sweaty and in a stupor. It seemed like I was in a movie. I couldn’t believe I just walked out of a burning building that later collapsed. I didn’t have a cell phone at the time. I had tried several times to call my family but I couldn’t get through. All the phones were down.
The emergency vehicles went up and down Washing Street all night. I finally got through to my family on a neighbor’s phone later that night. They were hysterical. “Why didn’t you call” my Mom said. I was very lucky.
I was on a conference call at my office in Connecticut, my partner called and like others, I would not interrupt my call and only did so when my assistant said there was a second plane.
Our office stopped working for the balance of that day.
I couldn’t get to my home on the Upper West Side until they opened the bridges 3 days later. The stench and smoke stayed with us for months too…
I live on West End Ave and 87St and that morning I was getting dressed to go vote in the primary, and then go to my part time job in the afternoon at the Cooper Hewitt Design Museum on E. 91 St. I thought I heard the sound of some planes go over and thought that was odd. Planes didn’t usually come down this corridor. Then the radio said that an accident had happened – a plane had hit the World Trade Center. I immediately knew – I don’t know how I KNEW – that it was no accident. And sure enough it wasn’t.
My boss called from the Cooper Hewitt to tell me not to come in to work – all govt buildings were being closed – Copper Hewitt is part of the Smithsonian. I got to the Primary polling place only to see the first building collapse on the TV everyone was watching there. They were shutting down the polling. I walked back home, getting there in time to see the second building collapse on TV. Then I walked down to the Red Cross place – some 20-30 blocks, I don’t remember, but they did not need any blood.
Then I walked back home. totally dazed. Some friends were missing for a few hours, but thank goodness everyone I knew finally surfaced. There was ash over everything down there and the smell of the destruction reached all the way u p the west side – we could smell it for weeks.
When I got up the courage to go down there some weeks later, I was horrified to see all the ash all over everything. Inside a clothing store boutique, there was ash all over the clothes and the dummies. I walked over to the pits, where the responders were working, and I walked up and down streets, and then I came home. I had been going back and forth on a grave site, and I felt like a zombie.
I heard many awful stories from people who had actually been down there when it happened.. I can never forget. The yearly memorials always leave me in tears. Even thinking of it, brings me to tears.
I was working in a high school near the World Trade Center. I was teaching and felt like if there was an earthquake. The students all looked at me for an answer. The following minutes were just incredible, trying to evacuate 2,500 students and to walk away from the World Trade Center.
The sky was so blue and the first tower felt. Now, everything was black and the fire was going to the lower floors. I froze for a few seconds and began to walk to UWS.
On 9/9 I was on a friend’s boat anchored somewhere along a line between the twin towers and the Statue of Liberty having lunch. On 9/10 I flew to FL for a business meeting. On 9/11 I realized my home would never be the same.
I was in an airplane flying from Frankfurt to JFK. I was with my 90 – ish father. We were on the flight because our return had been delayed because he got sick and had to be hospitalized in Budapest. Because Dad had been ill, we put him in Business class, I was in the first row of coach. I knew he wouldn’t have heard the announcement (hard of hearing), so the crew let me go into the BC cabin to tell him.
I have to admit that I didn’t fully comprehend the concept of USA airspace being closed. Our flight turned back to Frankfurt – not immediately – and we got there about 8:00 PM. The international auto show was on in Frankfurt, so hotel rooms were almost non-existent. But because he was on the “needs assistance” list – because he’d been sick, the air line helped and we got a room in a small business hotel behind the airport that serviced among other things, the business school of one of the Southern US universities. We had no luggage. We were there a week. Luckily, the hotel was on the airport bus route. Everyday I’d go to the airport for news, a bit of shopping, etc. We watched the news continuously, obviously.
We were there a little over a week I think. When I later read about what the Town of and the Towns around Gander in Nova Scotia did for the 1,000’s of “plane people” who landed in their airport, I always wished we’d been far enough across the Atlantic to have gone there.
It was beyond comprehension.
After the pilot’s announcement, I was coming back from BC and there was a young South Asian woman in tears in the staff/kitchen area: she had a brother who worked in the towers. I had visions of the time a plane flew into the Empire State Building back i the 40 – 50’s or so, and tried to reassure her that it would be all right. I’ve always wondered what happened to her and her brother.
In the elevator in my building that morning I met a couple that were visiting from out of town – tourists. They were headed to the observation deck in the WTC since it was such a cloudless morning. I do not know what became of them, but I still think of them.
I had the same experience as your daughter but was on my way to jury duty when I came out of the subway and saw the buildings on fire. The image will be in my memory forever. The harrowing walk back uptown ended in Central Park where things appeared strangely “normal”. Jogging and bicycling was ongoing as helicopters crowded the skies and sirens blared in the street.. The Red Cross building was jammed with blood donors who had no way of knowing that they were on a futile mission.
I will never forget walking up Sixth Ave from 50th. St surrounded by so many others, covered in ash, without voice and staring with empty eyes , a mass of humanity silently moving north, feeling so incredibly distraught, but oh so grateful that I had been in midtown. Such deep sadness, desolation and loss on a beautiful clear blue sky almost crisp day. ❤️ Never ever forget❤️
I was in Gastonia, NC, representing UNC at a college fair. I heard some of the students talking about buildings falling in NYC, but I tried not to pay attention until I got to my car and turned on the BBC news. That’s how I learned. My first reaction was guilt. I come from New York, and I wanted to be there. I called my kids, who were teens, and apologized: “Your world is going to be different from now on.” A few years later, when the kids were finishing school, I moved to the UWS.
I worked as a programmer for Bank of New York on Vesey Street You could see the WTC out of our window. But I was on vacation in China. I never went back to that office and 6 months later, many f us lost our jobs.
For three weeks, the Borough of Manhattan Community College where I was teaching suspended all classes so that the school could be used as a staging area to care for victims and provide necessary work space for the rescuers. Tragically, there were no survivors, and after the dust had settled a bit, classes resumed. However, the pile was still smoking for months afterward, resulting in many people who lived, worked in or frequented the area developing breathing problems, some of which developed into very serious health conditions.
I was sitting on the couch in my living room and had no idea what had happened until my ex-husband, who had left work, came running in the front door and turned on the TV. He mumbled something about Cantor Fitzgerald and in my cluelessness I said “What kind of cantor is named Fitzgerald?” Then I saw the second plane hit the South Tower and watched in horror and complete confusion. I had assumed the North Tower had been hit by accident. At that moment I knew this was no accident.
My ex went to pick up our 5-year-old daughter from her Jewish day school.
A few days later another 5-year-old joined that class; she started her first day of school on 9/11 at a different school, but her non-Jewish mother had promised her late husband to raise their kids Jewish and knew she couldn’t do it on her own. She had 3 children, 5, 3 and 11 months old.
I apologize, I neglected to say in my previous post that the mother in question’s husband and father of her 3 children worked at Cantor Fitzgerald.
I was in my first year of law school at NYU in September of 2001, but on Tuesdays my classes started later in the day so I was at Equinox on Broadway and 92 when all the tvs started reporting that a plane had hit the WTC and showing images of the first tower on fire. Everybody stopped what they were doing and crowded in front of the televisions. Many people were on cell phones, frantically trying to reach loved ones. One woman, whose husband worked in the towers, was crying. I didn’t know her, and I don’t know if he survived, but I think about them on Sept. 11. Later, at home, I watched tv and saw people covered in white dust streaming on foot from downtown. The news caster said “I can’t believe this is my country.” That’s always stayed with me. Today I have two teenage children, and for them Sept. 11 is like the moon landing or the JFK assassination, something that happened in history, but I will never forget what it felt and smelled like, all the missing persons flyers posted across the city, the nonstop sirens down the West Side highway.