From the November 2001 magazine.


My office is on the twenty-third floor of a building right across the street from the World Trade Center. When the first plane struck, we felt the vibration in our building. I, with my coworkers, ran out of our building and into the street. It was a war zone of debris. In front of us was the first tower--debris still falling from where the plane had crashed. The flames were enormous. No one could move. The crowds that by now had multiplied could only stand and stare at the fire.

Then the images began that I can't stop seeing in my mind. One by one people started jumping out of the top floor windows. As each person jumped we, as a crowd, could only scream in utter disbelief. We were hoping, I'm sure, that our collective screams would save them.

-- Artie V. W.

New York, New York

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