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(True Story) by Anon Posted
on September 11, 2002
It was approximately
8 AM in the morning. I was getting my
bagel and coffee on Chambers St in downtown Manhattan. I went
back into my building and was getting ready to start my day.
40 minutes later I hear the first crash, everyone runs towards
the direction of the boom.. a few minutes later the second
one. I saw the gaping hole on one of the buildings. The outer
edges of the hole had a ring of fire. I also saw specs of
debris falling. I called my friend and we both just left, we
said no goodbyes to anyone.
The streets possessed a frenetic vibration of confusion and fear. My friend who I will call Jim wanted to go to another building a few blocks away from the Trade Center and see if his friend was ok. We went into the building and realized that his friend waited for no one as well, he just ran home. Jim and I went to a waiting area where people were just staring out at the one of the most perfect views of the buildings. Now I saw the other gaping hole and again more
debris floating down to the ground. A helicopter was now dispatched around the radius of the building, but it seemed of no use, the heat must have been ridiculous. I turned to my friend who was looking towards the hole. Then the first building imploded. It came down in one swooping motion and the result on the ground was similar to a mushroom cloud after a nuclear detonation. We had to leave the waiting room, we ran outside. Everyone was screaming that bridges were close and the trains weren’t running. All access to the outer boroughs was shut down for security purposes.
We walked to 34 st Penn Station. Nearly 40 Manhattan blocks. We went through Soho and we saw a line forming outside a hospital with a man screaming,
“Please everyone, anyone, we need blood.”
I then turn to look where we were in proximity to WTC and as soon as
I turned my head, the second building came crashing down. My heart was officially was twisted and bruised. The line at the hospital was longer than the debut of an overly hyped movie. We had to make it to Penn Station. Jim and I both had our backpacks as we trekked nearly an hour to one of the largest commuter hubs.
When we got to Penn Station, people were just waiting around because we later learned that the police were conducting a sweep of the entire complex. We walked to a local shopping strip nearby Penn Station. There were lines for the public phones because the cell phones didn’t work. People were walking around with their ears pressed against small radios. I even saw a man wearing a baseball cap over his turban as he walked by.
I needed to
make a phone call and try to reach out to my family. I asked my friend to hold my backpack while I went and found a phone. When I reached the nearest pay phone the line was too long so I went and found another one. I couldn’t wait for that one either. I went back to where my friend was sitting and he was gone with my bag. They opened up the doors to Penn Station and my friend went home. I then got on and went home. No one collected any money they just wanted to ship people out of the city.
I got home and my family was relieved to see me. I called Jim and he told me he has my bag and that everything was ok. At home, I watched the tapes over and over. It was morbidly fascinating, but why? Anyway, I didn’t want to speak to anyone, I received numerous messages looking to find me ok.
The
next morning I read in the newspaper the victims actually jumped from the building, which explained the debris I saw falling. I was actually witnessing people jumping from such a far distance that I didn’t realize what the object was.
For the next few days, I felt the pain that you all felt, so I won’t go into what I felt. On September 13, 2001, I received a call from Jim’s girlfriend saying that Jim fell into a coma… he suffered a brain aneurysm and is in the hospital. I had no idea where this came from I thought. He was quiet on our walk to Penn Station, but he normally was quiet. I now surmise that the stress of the events triggered the stroke. I visited him on September 16, 2001 in the hospital. He was attached to a life support machine and was unconscious… I spoke to him few days ago…and now he can’t even utter a word.
As I sat in the room, I thought about our interactions together. And more importantly, I know that I made at least two attempts to speak to Jim about Christ.
I leaned over on the bed and looked at his face. He was bloated and red. I whispered the following in his ears, “Jim, you are one of my best friends. I have known you for two years and I know you will pull out of this
(The doctor just advised me that there is no chance of recovery). I will never have a friend like you”
I then made my last attempt, “Jim, you always evaded the topic of the life after and God, but I am going to tell you one last time, Jesus cares about you, He died for you,
please use this as your last opportunity to let him enter your life. I know you can’t speak but if you can think or hear my voice, accept Him into your heart now.” Immediately upon finish my sentence, his head turned quickly to the right. The reaction was most likely a result of the medication or an involuntary movement, but I wanted to believe that he heard me.
On
September 17, 2001, I spoke at Jim’s special service. Here was where my heart was officially taken out of me. He was Jewish and his body was cremated and spread over the ocean.
This is a true story. This was a harrowing experience. God spared my life.
The brandishing iron inscribed with 9/11 has been pressed against my mind, it cannot be removed. The image of one of my closest friends has also been committed to my memory. I want to make more memories with those around me.
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