[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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