The phone rang early that morning , My Daddy calling to tell me to turn on the TV. I saw the
first plane sticking out of Tower 1..I dressed and ran out of the house to the intersection of Seventh Avenue and Greenwich Ave and stood in still silence in the middle of the street with a million others watching as the second plane hit Tower 2..I ran home and got my little orange girls bicycle and peddled feverishly towards the towers. I made it all the way to White Street. Stopped by police barracades I stood looking up helplessly with a young cop and a dozen other folks until the towers started to collapse. I hoped on the bike and never looked back until I reached Houston Street. I know I was in shock.
I went back to my apartment in the village and turned on the TV and stayed there until later that night when Jamie and I went to the foot of Christopher Street to cheer the firemen as they went by. Last night watching it all over again on TV I can still remember those feelings. I think I never really got over it because I feel nervous and shaky this morning.