Black Tuesday

This morning I woke up with two things in my mind: S**t! I’m late for class and good thing it’s not raining today. September 11 was a beautiful fall day. The sun shone brightly as the crisp autumn winds breezed through. It was a stark contrast to the rather gloomy weather the day before. This superb morning in New York was also the ironic setting to one of the greatest disasters the world will ever witness in the 21st century.

I rushed to the subway and bought my coffee along the way just like I always do. The N train stopped just as I stepped into the platform. I thought to myself perfect, I’ll just be five minutes late. Then five minutes into the ride, the train stopped. The conductor said that there were other cars in the way so we would have to wait for a while, I was so irritated. Then after a few minutes we were on our way. As I alighted from the train, there was an announcement that the trains will not be making any more stops to Union Square (my stop) and that this will be the last stop to Union Square. I found it odd but I didn’t really think much of it.

I got out of the station and outside I immediately saw everyone bunched up in huge groups looking towards one direction: The second tower of the World Trade Center was puffing out plumes of gray smoke. I looked up as well. At that point it seemed so bizarre. Then just when we all thought time stopped as we stood still witnessing the (at that time) mysterious if not unbelievable disaster, the first tower sparked and blew out gargantuan clouds of smoke as a booming sound emanated throughout the city (just like fireworks) and it subsequently burst into flames. The second plane had just hit the building. Everyone, Americans and foreigners alike, grew silent as all looked up and gazed at the smoke that signaled the death of the thousands upon thousands of innocent victims trapped in the building.

There on W13th Street, 20 blocks away from the ill-fated site, I saw the magnitude of war and the frailty of humanity. Lucifer’s seed had been planted.

When I was 12, I read the Diary of Anne Frank. The descriptions of the horrific events brought about by war terrified me. A few years ago in Manila, the coup d’etat petrified me. I had visions of bloodshed and gunfire running through my head. The only thing that at that time I was glad about was the fact that school was cancelled (hey, I was a kid then OK). My parents did their best to pretend that things were not so bad. Just like in Roberto Benigni movie Life is Beautiful. All throughout time, not only in America but in almost every country in the world, freedom and civilization have been threatened by extremist terrorists. People whose idea of a utopic society or love of religion is asserted onto others through force and violence. We have a first hand experience of this kind of terrorism as Filipinos with the Abu Sayaff threatening our safety every single day. However, the scale of the violence that was inflicted here today on the United States is something so incredible that only the most imaginative of movie makers could ever conceive such a situation. The prime suspect in this terror crime is the extremely wealthy and powerful extremist terrorist Osama Bin Laden. This strife between the Americans and Bin Laden began when the Americans were defending Iran from Iraq. Bin Laden accused the Americans of tampering the soil of the holy land and disgracing Allah. Osama Bin Laden once said in his fatwa that he will avenge Allah’s name by striking the Americans. He said that when the day comes "it will be a dark day for America."

Dark does not even begin to describe the magnitude of this wretched event that has amassed a death toll of biblical proportions. Everyone was let out of work and school at around 10:30. The buses were all full. No cabs. Subways closed. Fifty blocks was my trek. When you walk 50 blocks on a day like this you can’t close your eyes. Today as I walked home alone, the agony and shock weighed me down like cement blocks. The uncertainty of what was to come was greeted by grief, if not by fear. It was like a bad dream. I think everyone wanted to believe that it was just that, a bad dream, at that moment. Yet no matter how much I pinched myself hoping that I would wake up and realize that this was all a delusion, unfortunately this nightmare was as real as my sorrow.

Downtown where I was, students teachers and workers stood on the streets all shell-shocked. Earlier, my teacher in Fashion Industry was trying to carry on with class. She droned on and on about Fashion Week as all of us were still processing the implausible chain of events. All her efforts proved futile as we saw the first tower of the WTC collapse from our window. All hopes of my classmates who had loved ones in the tower were crushed. We all looked out the window and saw the smolder of debris replace the site where one of America’s most esteemed towers once stood. Minutes later, the second tower collapsed.

I will never forget the cries of my classmate whose husband was inside the building. She sobbed and said some things in Japanese. My other classmate cried as she wondered what had happened to her brother-in-law. At that moment in time, it did not matter what language each one was speaking. We all understood one another as we comforted each other in one of the most terrifying and grief-stricken moments in our lives.

Outside, students were crying. Strangers were consoling one another. Several people were panicking because their cell phones did not work and they could not contact their loved ones who they knew were in the Wall Street area. I was desperate to get home. I was so scared for it was such an uncertain moment wherein I was consumed by fear and panic. There was no other way home but to walk. So I, along with the devastated lot of New York, walked home. It did not matter how far we had to walk, we just did.

In every area in NY, the reaction to the tragedy simply could not be summed up in words. At a glance, New York still looked the same. Busy, people everywhere ... but it was incongruously silent. With the exception of the sirens from the fire trucks and ambulances, everyone simply had a glazed look of disbelief in their faces. I was still so shocked. I had goose bumps and broke into a cold sweat. Then as I hit 30th Street I saw something that I will never forget. An old man stood outside his deli and hung his head down sobbing. Then I looked around and saw people banging the dead payphones out of frustration, crying in the middle of the streets, and people trying in vain to make calls from their cell phones.

Disgustingly, I also saw a man selling whistles for a dollar in case of other emergencies. I cannot imagine that such a soul was trying to capitalize on a tragedy such as this. It looked like something we envisioned about how the end of the world would be. Streets filled with people limp with anguish walking away from a smoky site that resembled the gates of hell. However unbelievable this scenario was, this was not a surreal episode, it was real. The world will never be the same after today.

I passed Bryant Park where Fashion Week was being held and suddenly the hot pink tents looked like a joke. Everything that this city celebrated, such as glamour and entertainment, seemed frivolous. Speculations of war and the like were afloat. Fear, heartbreak, and grief surrounded the city that once seemed invincible. It was in this unguarded moment in history that I saw how the city all came together in the streets. This day has given America its unexpected heroes. Amidst the bedlam, people from all walks of life offered their aid. The lines to the blood bank stretched from block to block. Others who had survived risked their lives even further by combing through the rubble searching for survivors.

Yet, there is the undeniable sense of loss. The irreplaceable number of lives lost due to a person’s fanatical ideals. My friend Yvette called her friend who worked up at the Twin Towers and he said that he was just walking to work and was looking up at the building when it exploded. She could tell by the tone of his voice that he knew that there would be many friends of his that he would never see again. I called my friend who works in Morgan Stanley and she said in a shaky voice that she couldn’t contact her friends. Friends of mine from here and Manila have called to make sure that I was fine. I still can’t get over how fortunate I am to recount this story to you in perfect health. My heart goes out to all those who have lost loved ones. My heart goes out to those who have lost their lives way too soon.

It’s a worldwide tragedy that tugs at the heartstrings not only of Americans but of everyone who still hopes that despite all the ills in the world, there would still be deliverance. Today was not simply a series of tragic moments. It was a catastrophe so huge that one cannot put his arms around it. There are still no answers and even if there were, what good would it do? In a few days, New York and the rest of the country will soon operate the way it always has. Aside from some modifications in its calculus for security measures, planes will again criss-cross the country. Someone will be caught and brought to justice. A new building will be built. Yet, today’s events will never be erased from everyone’s memory. It will always be a sad day for humankind and nothing will ever salve the sting from its recollection. This brings us back to our home situation where selfish motives have put one too many lives at stake. Suddenly, the satirical view we have of the disgusting social situation in the world has stopped being funny. In times such as these, we start to think that evil is even more real than goodness itself. The thick black smog of flotsam and jetsam will soon thin into a white veil imparting the stench of death. Then it will clear up and only a crater on the ground will be left to remind us of this atrocious incident. Today, I lost my innocence. Whatever unthinkable act or situation I have heard of was simply recounted in a clinical manner by means of newspapers and television. Today, I saw it in the eyes of the thousands of people whose lives have changed forever. Today has left an indelible mark in my soul.

This day, I witnessed one of the world’s greatest tragedies. I also saw the impregnable spirit of humanity and the resilience of a nation. Despite all the heartbreak, everyone in a way was strengthened amidst the adversity. It validates the belief that in the face of fear and death is when we feel the most alive. Also I witnessed how a certain conviction, even if it does veer towards evil, can drive one person close to unassailability in attaining his objective. Nothing could have stopped or even prevented this heinous act from happening. It was all so unprecedented and it is also a testament of our fallibility as humans. Evil is delivered just as goodness is delivered. How does one address a situation such as this? Is it an eye for an eye? The next step is crucial to how the future and its children will be shaped. May God bless us.