As I sit at my desk, I can't help but think of this day, 24 years ago.
Much like today, it was a beautiful, cloud-free September morning. I was sitting at my desk, preparing the weekly and monthly crime maps, with the office TV on to some news channel, with a report of a plane having struck the WTC.
As I watched the TV, a second plane impacted on the unstruck tower. I turned to my Sergeant at her desk, reviewing the prior week's crime reports, and said: "Michele, we gotta suit up. It's gotten real." Within a minute of the second impact, we were being mobilized to respond to the WTC from the South Bronx.
The rest of that day is burned into my brain like an etching on fine silver.
Driving downtown on the East side of Manhattan, using the sidewalk when needed so I could get through traffic with the Eight & One in my van.
Getting the intersection of Second Ave & Houston Street, and watching in awe as a homeless man and a businessman directed traffic so the emergency response could get through. I can still see the shopping cart off to the side, slightly, with a briefcase sitting on top.
Reality started to set in.
Getting as far as City Hall Park before the sea of people heading uptown was too great to travel through.
Feeling Tower 2 start to fall before seeing it or hearing it.
Hearing myself saying "My God! My God! Oh my fucking God" as if I was listening to a stranger say the words from outside of myself.
Turning to my Sgt and saying, "Michele, if this is the end, I'm in good company." Her response, "So am I, but we ain't dead yet. We're Bronx cops! What are we gonna do?"
And I responded, "Yell at people and hit them if needed!"
And we did. We yelled at the mass of people, at individuals. "You've got fucking legs! Use them!" "Stop looking over your shoulder- move your ass!" amongst other pleasantries. One person got poked by my nightstick, as they allowed shock to overcome them, and they stopped moving, but the poke woke them up.
Then the roaring wave of debris and dust came to us, sounding like a cross between a roaring ocean wave breaking and the most intense thunderstorm of your life.
I saw it, and I was at peace.
It literally stopped about 10' in front of our van. I saw a man, covered in drab grey dust and debris, kneeling about 20' in front of me. I touched his shoulder, and he fell over. A nearby medic ran over and checked his pulse, shook his head, and we left him where he was to tend to the living.
Then Tower 2 came down.
It was a long day. A long week. A long month. A long fall season.
I lost friends that day. I've lost friends due to 9-11 in the days and years following.
When I finally pass, it will be due, at least in part, to complications and illnesses from 9-11.
I have no regrets. I would do it again.
God bless the victims and God damn the perpetrators.
