I remember arriving at Rockefeller Center and seeing the plane hit one of the towers on the big screen in the lobby at 1251 Avenue of the Americas. My first reaction was to minimize it. I remember thinking these terrorists never quit, but it was nothing, we would brush it off like we always did. They could not hurt us. This was America.
Then the towers fell and I understood we were not brushing this off at all. We had been badly wounded. I was in shock.
That day everyone around me started leaving, but I stayed behind. I was the sole technician on hand to receive the CIO and other executives who were evacuating from downtown. When they arrived they were covered in soot, and we still had to get operational. I got my orders and set up a command center for them while a plane was still unaccounted for in the sky. Was that dedication or foolishness. I still do not know.
I did not get home until late that night, only to come back early the next morning and keep setting up critical users who had relocated from downtown to midtown. Then the reports on the body count started coming in. Friends had photos of people jumping from the towers. It was horrific. Most of it is a blur to me now, but it was a time unlike any other.
To the first responders who sacrificed so much for us, thank you. To those who lost their lives, I am sorry. We were hurt that day, and that injury shaped so much of what came after, including my own military status down the road. But we are still here.
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