by Marie F.

Created on: September 11, 2008

The phone rang and it was my mother.

Where are you?

Well, you called me at the apartment in New York City, so that's where I am.

Where in New York?

I don't know, 58th and 9th. It's my friends' family's apartment. I haven't had any coffee, I slept in, you woke me up!

A plane just hit the World Trade Center. Turn on the TV and don't go anywhere.

She forgot to say Happy Birthday, what is going on?

By that time my friend is now awake as the apartment isn't that big and the only phone is near the bed. We fiddle with the ancient TV that we could not get any audio on last night. Today the audio is working fine. The phone rings again.

It's my sister.

Two planes hit the World Trade Center.

Ok wait, don't exaggerate.

Mom just called and said that a plane hit the World Trade Center.

Well now it's two. It's a terrorist attack.

The scene on the television is unbelievable. We sink into the couch with our hands covering our face mumbling, eyes wide open. Oh my God, this can't be happening. It was. My friend's cell phone rings. She's a radio reporter; we are in NYC on vacation to celebrate my 40th birthday. Her boss just told her that her vacation is over. Be safe, but get the story.

We head to the roof. What made us think that we could actually get on the roof is beyond me.

We head down 18 floors on the elevator wondering what we will see when we go outside. I want coffee, there's a Starbucks connected to the building, I will get it there. Starbucks closed. People are milling around. No one knows what to say or do. Some haven't heard yet.

We start walking and trying to hail a cab. It's vacation for my reporter friend. She hadn't planned on working so she had no recording devices or credentials with her. All she had was a t-shirt from the radio station where she worked. That would have to do.

I can't describe the entire day. I can only give you glimpses of what I saw and heard.

A man is walking towards us on the street carrying a boxed television. It had to be adrenaline. How else could anyone make their way down a NY city street carrying a TV? He stopped to rest. We asked where the electronics store was so that we could buy a tape recorder. He told us. But the phone lines were down. The store could not run his credit card through so he just left his credit card there.

We have enough cash between us to buy a cheap tape recorder. As we continue walking she
stops and does man on the street interviews. One woman tells her that she works for the Jon Stewart show. The crew wasn't working today; there

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