story9597.xml
Title
story9597.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2003-09-11
911DA Story: Story
The day was sunny. Hot. A day you would wish for on the weekend. My destination was the World Financial Center via the WTC bridge over the West side highway. There are many with this same story. We saw first hand the day the world changed.
I was running a few minutes late. I decided that, instead of going underground through the concourse, I would travel topside through the courtyard, past the big gold globe, along the north side of WTC north tower. A pretty routine decision.
I walked down the north side of WTC to the bridge entrance. There had been a display set up along the bridge path for "Quebec New York". Curious name. I continued on the bridge when about three quarters through, I heard a loud BANG! I turned around and thought that maybe one of the displays had fallen over. They were large enough to make such a noise. I didn't see anything down the bridge that would have caused the sound. I dismissed it and kept on going through the revolving doors to the Winter Garden enclosure. Elapsed time: less than 30 seconds. When I got through the revolving doors I heard another loud BANG! This time when I turned around to see people screaming and running down the bridgeway. And fire alarms had began to sound.
I had decided that it was best not to go up to the office until the alarm ended. There was no indication of a long term situation - until I went outside.
Hundreds of people had gathered out in the marina area and were looking up at the twin towers where WTC north was billowing black smoke from about two thirds up. Asking around for the cause, I heard assumptions of generators expoding, small plane crash, and fire. It was time to find my coworkers and figure out what was going on.
I looked around the crowd, sweeping back and forth, looking up more than looking for collegues. I thought I saw a familiar face in the crowd and narrowed my focus to be sure. When it turned out to be someone else, I turned my attention back on the twin towers. Then I experienced the most horrific sight I had ever witnessed.
From the right side of my periphery, I saw an airplane fly into my view, behind 2 WFC - blocking the bottom two thirds of WTC south tower from my view - spraying debris and black smoke out the other side of 2 WFC. I stared, dumb-founded for what seemed like an eternity. My hands clasped my mouth in bewilderment. There was panic and mass movement back towards the ferry docks at WFC and along the Mercantile Exchange and 1 WFC. I stopped there to make a plan. How was I to get home - back to Brooklyn - to my wife.
I stared at the towers and the billowing smoke from now two flaming columns. There were papers floating everywhere. And people...jumping...they were jumping. More than one. More than one at a time. I can't even imaging the decision that would have to be made for that event - the state of mind.
I had to get home. I started to travel up the West Side Hwy to see if I could get to a bridge across the east river. My pager went off. My wife. She must have been going out of her mind! I walked into SoHo and lined up for a pay phone. I borrowed a quarter from a good samaritan as I didn't have any change. My turn came on the phone and I got a hold of my wife. She was relieved to hear from me. I knew that it wouldn't be enough to tell her I was okay. I had to get home and prove it in person.
The events of the rest of the day happened as heard on the news. I was in Greenwich Village when the first tower fell. I only hoped that as many people as possible got out beforehand. It took me eight hours to get home. My wife held me for what seemed like an eternity. It still wasn't long enough.
To this day, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't see that second UA plane plunging into the WTC tower. It is etched in my soul as a reminder - like a branding from hot metal. It plays in my memory with such clarity, unfaded by time. It is my scar to bear in rememberance of the men and women who died that day in New York, Washington DC, in Pennsylvania.
To all that lost loved ones on 9/11, my condolenses. And to those who lost some of themselves, I share your sorrow. You are not alone. Godspeed in your life. And may this be the heaviest event that weighs on your soul.
One story of many...Rob Davis
I was running a few minutes late. I decided that, instead of going underground through the concourse, I would travel topside through the courtyard, past the big gold globe, along the north side of WTC north tower. A pretty routine decision.
I walked down the north side of WTC to the bridge entrance. There had been a display set up along the bridge path for "Quebec New York". Curious name. I continued on the bridge when about three quarters through, I heard a loud BANG! I turned around and thought that maybe one of the displays had fallen over. They were large enough to make such a noise. I didn't see anything down the bridge that would have caused the sound. I dismissed it and kept on going through the revolving doors to the Winter Garden enclosure. Elapsed time: less than 30 seconds. When I got through the revolving doors I heard another loud BANG! This time when I turned around to see people screaming and running down the bridgeway. And fire alarms had began to sound.
I had decided that it was best not to go up to the office until the alarm ended. There was no indication of a long term situation - until I went outside.
Hundreds of people had gathered out in the marina area and were looking up at the twin towers where WTC north was billowing black smoke from about two thirds up. Asking around for the cause, I heard assumptions of generators expoding, small plane crash, and fire. It was time to find my coworkers and figure out what was going on.
I looked around the crowd, sweeping back and forth, looking up more than looking for collegues. I thought I saw a familiar face in the crowd and narrowed my focus to be sure. When it turned out to be someone else, I turned my attention back on the twin towers. Then I experienced the most horrific sight I had ever witnessed.
From the right side of my periphery, I saw an airplane fly into my view, behind 2 WFC - blocking the bottom two thirds of WTC south tower from my view - spraying debris and black smoke out the other side of 2 WFC. I stared, dumb-founded for what seemed like an eternity. My hands clasped my mouth in bewilderment. There was panic and mass movement back towards the ferry docks at WFC and along the Mercantile Exchange and 1 WFC. I stopped there to make a plan. How was I to get home - back to Brooklyn - to my wife.
I stared at the towers and the billowing smoke from now two flaming columns. There were papers floating everywhere. And people...jumping...they were jumping. More than one. More than one at a time. I can't even imaging the decision that would have to be made for that event - the state of mind.
I had to get home. I started to travel up the West Side Hwy to see if I could get to a bridge across the east river. My pager went off. My wife. She must have been going out of her mind! I walked into SoHo and lined up for a pay phone. I borrowed a quarter from a good samaritan as I didn't have any change. My turn came on the phone and I got a hold of my wife. She was relieved to hear from me. I knew that it wouldn't be enough to tell her I was okay. I had to get home and prove it in person.
The events of the rest of the day happened as heard on the news. I was in Greenwich Village when the first tower fell. I only hoped that as many people as possible got out beforehand. It took me eight hours to get home. My wife held me for what seemed like an eternity. It still wasn't long enough.
To this day, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't see that second UA plane plunging into the WTC tower. It is etched in my soul as a reminder - like a branding from hot metal. It plays in my memory with such clarity, unfaded by time. It is my scar to bear in rememberance of the men and women who died that day in New York, Washington DC, in Pennsylvania.
To all that lost loved ones on 9/11, my condolenses. And to those who lost some of themselves, I share your sorrow. You are not alone. Godspeed in your life. And may this be the heaviest event that weighs on your soul.
One story of many...Rob Davis
Collection
Citation
“story9597.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed August 12, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/8737.