My spouse & I resided on the Lower West Side, Battery Park City, Gateway Plaza, So. End Ave. As survivors of the 9/11 World Trade Center Towers tragedy... our story is one in a basket of billions. From our Gateway Plaza apartment, facing the street and 300 yards from the Towers, we helplessly witnessed all from our apartment windows. The closeness of the Towers viewed from our windows - gave an illusion that one could reach out and touch the Towers; their beauty with night lights reaching toward the sky promoted a contemplative emotion.
We viewed the planes entering the Towers, the overwhelming inferno, individuals jumping, the collapse of the Towers, the darkness as debris hit our windows with a fury. What occurred over a period of hours, seemed like a much shorter time span. The darkness was darker than an eclipse, darker than the darkest night; and then a momentary hush after the air cleared. Viewing the roof garden one floor below, with the human reaction of looking out to see if someone might be on that roof garden and in need of help. Debris strewn everywhere, recording tape and paper hung from the trees of the garden and oh, so much ash. The momentary hush, whether real or imagined, then the viewing of debris for a second, fantasized that a parade had just passed by on our short street. I experienced anger not fear - anger that factions could bring such evil deeds to our wonderful country. I now really understand the expression a feeling of helplessness, I couldn't fix what had just happened.
We stayed in our apartment until 5:15 p.m. that day, waiting for someone to knock on our door to advise us to evacuate, with nothing but a battery radio to keep us abreast of happenings. "In a New York minute", we evacuated via the stairwell touched with ash, the result of a first floor door left open. With a few belongings, gathered with a tad of thought of what was being left behind, we stepped out of the door onto the pavement, seeing and standing in ever so much ash and debris, I wanted to turn around and go back to our home. It was one of other reality moments carried forever in my mind's eye.
We planned to walk up the East Side, but seeing the very tired police, fire, and med tech personnel within our immediate driveway and street, we opted to pass through the building in back of the apartment complex. We gained access to the Esplanade walking the short distance to reach the Hudson River dock - North Cove. We were escorted to the New Jersey shore via New York Police boat. From the boat deck, we viewed even more damage to the Manhattan skyline, especially noting the zigzag shape of the side of the American Express building, housed in one of the World Financial Center buildings along with the glorious Winter Garden, as well as the fall of World Trade Center Building 7. We were taken to the Jersey City Hospital, attended to by compassionate staff. Then traveled by National Guard truck to Hoboken, NJ where we were housed by a wonderful family who welcomed, with great trust, strangers to their home.
On Friday 9/14, our eldest son & daughter-in-law drove from New Hampshire via New Jersey routes to Hoboken for transport us to New Hampshire for temporary residence with our daughter, who along with her friend and our youngest son, greeted us with open arms & the overwhelming feeling of not wanting to let go with each hug that followed. {I sometimes wonder what the count of hugs were given from day 9/11 and long thereafter? Billions.} Our daughter and son had spent that Friday in New Hampshire collecting items of clothing and necessities which the Concord community generously opened their hearts and donated by churches, stores, individuals, employers, American Red Cross, et al.
One of our grandchildren -- he was 8 at that time - arrived home from a few days with his Dad. He hugged us so tight, understanding the depth of 9/11 events for someone so young and yet so wise. He told Grandpa & Babcia (Polish for Grandma) that he had something for them... his Mom was not even aware of his gift. He had spoken to his classmates about his grandparents' closeness in location of the World Trade Center Towers. Presented to us was a large envelope full of hand-made cards from each of his classmates. And if that isn't love and caring, I don't know what is - from the hearts and minds of children!Residing now in New Hampshire, not because of 9/11 drove us away, but circumstances just went that way as we continue to put our lives into perspective.
We Miss - New York City deeply; events found nowhere else in the USA, the introduction to & interaction with so many wonderful cultures. There isn't a day or night in the past two years, that we do not think of 9/11... the Lady of Liberty & Ellis Island both on the confluence of the East River and the Hudson River, viewed from the lower part of the Esplanade. And that Lady of Liberty wept, I just know it, and she still stands with pride and remembrance that the USA is a democracy that will prevail.
We Remember - the victims, the survivors, their friends and families, the workers from the public and private sector, the volunteers, our neighbors in Gateway Plaza and staff in the small group of stores on South End Avenue, Battery Park City.
We Remember - the places we visited, the book signings attended, the celebrities we met, the concerts and theater plays, the movies, the arts, the parks, the strangers we talked with, on streets, on subway and those while standing in line for an event... yet there are so many places we didn't get to.
We Remember - Always In Our Hearts, Forever In Our Souls, Heroes, Victims, Survivors One and All... We Were There.
Painfully, the lump in my throat and the twist in my stomach, the tears in my eyes and the pain in my heart, to the depth of my soul, forever go on.
"God, teach me to laugh again, but never let me forget that I cried." Katy Fisher
?I witnessed the fall of the burning towers and death of thousands of people just blocks from where I live. I had taken my camera with me that morning and in a crowd of people took photos while in deep shock, fearing for the lives of those trapped and the rescue workers rushing to save them. I have never felt so helpless in my life.?--Michael Feldschuh
During the three months that the September 11 Photo Project was on display at a donated gallery in New York City's SoHo neighborhood, more that forty thousand people visited the space to view the photos and read the words of the project's contributors. The photos in this book, selected from the submissions of more than five hundred photographers, young and old, amateur and professional, give a permanent voice to those who made the September 11 Photo Project what it is: an attempt to build new understanding from the ashes of what has been.
These photographs are presented in the following pages with the words of the photographers, as they appeared in the gallery.
The perspectives represented on the gallery walls were as diverse as the photos were haunting. Many visitors went away from the exhibit with a greater understanding of what had occurred and were able to begin the healing of the deep wounds of losing friends and neighbors, of witnessing unfathomable atrocity, of feeling that there was no way to help. Together in this book, these words and images lend insight into this calamitous event and our world as it changed in those terrifying moments on a sunny September morning.
The SoHo gallery is closed, but the project continues; the collection has embarked on a nation-wide tour.
The September 11 Photo Project will use its proceeds from the sale of this book to continue its mission, and to support the New York City Firefighters Burn Center Foundation.
