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| by Stuyvesant High School Students, |
Sep 28, 2001 |
—Jukay Hsu, senior
I yelled to my class “the Twin Towers just blew up. There’s a big hole in it.” Then everyone when to the windows and people were like, “cool” and stuff.... I felt really guilty after because I shouldn’t be so intrigued by this tragedy. The shock died down and I got the picture later on ... and it wasn’t pretty.
—Lindsay Kim, sophomore
It was a scary experience. The scariest part was when we were being evacuated and we heard a crash. Everyone went running in all directions and there was total panic. I have never felt so scared in my life.
—Ernest Baskin, sophomore
We sat there and I was talking to my friend who was talking about the logistics of the whole thing and what he would have done with the Pentagon instead.
—Hamilton Davis, sophomore
I saw a lot of people crying around me and on me, and I couldn’t figure out how it helps ease any pain that they were having by crying.
—Levon McMullen, sophomore
The first one I thought was an accident, the second I thought was terrorists, when I heard the Pentagon had been done in too I thought I was gonna die. One kid walked into our class late and said that they were making a movie outside; we all laughed at the time because we hadn’t realized what had happened.
—Rene Kessler, sophomore
Most people who experienced the atrocity on TV said they were terrified immediately. However, from a first-person perspective, watching a World Trade Center tower collapse from the 8th floor, I can honestly say I was not in the least bit afraid. It was a feeling of great excitement instead, as if it was a Die Hard 4 or Godzilla 2 or something. I was just thinking of how insane it was, not how many thousands of people were dying as I was watching.
—Paul Banec, freshman
I got uptown, and I was trying to find a way to get downtown, because I was thinking, ‘I need to get to work! I’ll miss my classes!’ That’s all I was thinking. Then I sat down and listened to the news. At that point I thought, “Okay, something’s wrong. Forget about going to work; worry about what’s going on here. Worry about finding your family, worry about getting home. I never made it downtown.
—Jennie Chan, English teacher
Walking closer to the World Trade Center complex, we were searching for a better view. We found, literally, more than we could handle. Standing on the corner of Chambers Street and Greenwich Street, time stood still. For what seemed like an eternity, I stood there, clutching my best friend, and stared.... Then the tower fell. Scared out of my mind, I dragged my friend back towards our school, hoping to find my brother and run away. To the south, a dust cloud was going west and north—towards where we were standing. A mass of people moved, becoming at once a single, frightened organism and several chaotic parts. Finally in school, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.... For the first time since I found out my mom was sick, I cried.
—Laurence Wooster, senior
My teachers listened to all the announcements and followed orders. It was weird because I was with a teacher who was extremely confused and none of us understood him. I was mostly concerned about everyone in Stuy, including my brother.... I remember being in the lobby as the second tower came down and being really scared; all of the emergency vehicles and workers came rushing towards us and everyone started pushing to go out the other way.
—Jeremy Wooster, freshman
As I reached the senior bar, my friend JoJo told me that the crowd of people gathered in front of her had all entered the building bearing reports of a plane that had hit the World Trade Center. I thought it was a joke. Or a little plane; one of those tiny things that carry maybe seven people. I thought it would have bounced right off the tower.... More crying now. My best friend’s dad is in the building. We don’t know where. The phones are down. I have no idea what to do so I actually go to my next class. We were able to watch the news there. There was a live setup, a woman describing what she had seen as she escaped from Tower One. Bloody people. She screams. The camera pans towards the tower and something happens. The TV goes off; the lights go off, the floor shakes. I grabbed onto my friend’s hand and started crying again.... I just remember, as we were running up West Street, I turned back, expecting to see one burning tower, and all I could see was smoke and dust.
Every night though, I make myself stay up as late as I can in order to avoid any difficulty in falling asleep or any nightmares. I am scared to be alone. I try to see my friends and do fun, “normal” things to get my mind off of what happened. It works temporarily. I am no stranger to grief, as my mother died when I was eleven. Yet each day I think “OK, I’ve passed that stage where it upsets me so much. I won’t cry anymore.” And each day I’m wrong. Each day I have cried just a little bit more.
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