[EDITOR'S NOTE: This
reflection contains some detailed imagery depicting what a worker at
the World Trade Center may have experienced on Sept. 11. If you are
sensitive to such description, please do not read on.]
September
11, 2001, a gorgeous day, sunny and breezy. You're walking to your
office building. You've plans and goals for this great day. Perhaps
you've a big project to work on, or important calls to make. Gotta get
there on time for that important meeting. It's 8:45 AM.
Maybe you've now arrived, or are just about to enter your building.
Suddenly
you hear an explosion. The building shakes, the sky above you turns red
then instantly black. Everywhere there is chaos, hundreds running,
screaming, crying.
You're in shock. You turn and start to run.
Outside the air is thick with ash, smoke and the smell of jet fuel. All
of a sudden you're disoriented, you can't see around you. Yet you keep
running. You're dodging debris — smoke, ash, shards of glass ... and
paper — tons of paper — first white 81/2 x 11 letters, resumes, sales
figures, then singed paper. Near you, you hear a thud; you look over
your shoulder to see a body just hit the ground.
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