Eban Schachter

Never forget...
Below is the text of an email I sent to friends and family. On this day, the 1st anniversary of the attack, I am posting this as a reminder of that day. It seems to me that many have begun to forget -- or ignore -- the tragedy of that day. I hope reading this will remind those that have let this moment slip from memory of this day. We should all move on. We should all re-learn to live our lives. However, we should never... NEVER forget.

The following text is as originally written on October 11, 2001. There is one exception. I made one edit which is noted at the bottom. If you have questions or comments, email me. What follows is a true account of my experiences on the day of the attack.

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Some of you may know of my experience in NY last month. Others may not. For those of you who do not know, I was in New York City on the day the World Trade Center was attacked.

When I found the training my company was sending me to was being offered in the Big Apple, I didn't give it a second thought. Since most of my family lives in NY or DC, I chose to fly there for my training. I figured I could combine the business of learning more about UNIX with the pleasure of seeing relative I had not seen in over a year. My co-worker, Matt, whom had never been to New York, readily agreed that would be a great place to go.

On Tuesday, the second day of training, we arrived at 195 Broadway at around 8:15am. We grabbed a bagel from a street vendor and went upstairs to class. The first day of class had covered a lot of ground, most of it familiar to me. The second day promised more of the same. However, I looked forward to the refresher and the possibility of learning a new trick or two.

Right around 9:00, I stepped in to the reception area to refresh my coffee. As I filled my cup, I heard the sound of an engine and a "boom". My first thought was that a military jet had flown by fairly close and I remember thinking that was odd. A few moments later my instructor and class mates poured out of the classroom. I heard the instructor state that something had occurred outside. As we headed for the elevator (yes, I know. not what you're supposed to do in an emergency), I was informed that following the sound of the explosion, Matt had seen people running in the street and a storm of loose paper falling from the sky.

The elevator stopped on the first floor and we headed to the street. I was immediately over whelmed by the site of running people, the look of fear on so many faces, the sound of dozens of wailing people. I turned to my right and looked up at what those faces were staring at.

There, just a block and a half away stood the World Trade Center. There was a gaping hole in her side and smoke and fire bellowing out of her. My instructor stated he was getting out of the city and suggested we do the same. He then said he would see us the next day for class
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As the members of the class split up to head their separate ways, my thoughts turned to my brother. He was working in the World Financial Center -- a mere skywalk away from the World Trade Center Plaza. I wanted to be sure he was alright. Matt agreed we should go and we began to make our way through the crowd. I tried to navigate my way through the crowded streets while keeping an eye on the burning tower. I could feel the fear, anger, and confusion of the crowd. I could see those that had survived the initial impact, but were trapped by the raging inferno hanging from the gap left by the aircraft.

As we approached the first corner, I heard a sound rise from the crowd. The sound of thousands of people gasping at once and then emitting a low moan. I turned to look up, once again, and saw the first jumper as he fell helplessly. The sound of the crowd grew as the body descended. You could here the collective sound of disgust as his body hit roof of a neighboring building. I looked up again and saw there were more jumpers, including a man and a woman that appeared to be holding hands.

We turned that first corner and then another and made our way on to the street that would lead us to my brother's building. We were about one-half of a block away when we heard the second explosion. Matt and I turned to look at each other. I'm sure the gaped jaw and overwhelming astonishment I saw in his face matched the expression I had on mine.

Then, the debris began to fall. Pieces of glass and concrete and other materials began to rain upon us. I yelled, "Get against a truck!", and dove and pressed myself against one of the construction trucks that was parked near by. I didn't see where Matt sought shelter, but had noticed several individuals sliding beneath the vehicles in a desperate attempt to avoid the falling debris.

When the barrage ceased, Matt looked at me and yelled, "Run!". We both began to run with the retreating throngs of people. We were quickly separated in the crowd. I caught sight of Matt on an opposite corner. As he raised his hand to me, I yelled to him to go to the hotel. He turned and continued to run.

I ran another block, where I came across a woman crouched on the street. Her head was in her hands and she was trembling. I asked if she was hurt. She shook her head. I told her she needed to leave the area. Again, she shook her head. I bent down, grabbed her elbows and heaved her off the ground. As she stood, I pushed her in a direction away from the massacre and stated firmly, "GO!". I watched her take a few steps. Then, she took a few more. Then, she began walking at a quicker pace. I, too, turned and began my own trek out of lower Manhattan.

I made my way until a found an area to sit. There were not as many people here and I could clear my head. As I sat, I looked around and noticed that I was near many Federal buildings. Several of them had phrased of justice and freedom engraved in their stone facades. I let what I had realized when the second explosion occurred come back to the front of my thoughts -- I had just witnessed a terrorist attack. I sat there for several minutes thinking about that. I realized our lives had just changed. Then, I felt the blood. Not a lot of blood. However, it was enough for me to realize that my arm had been cut by some of the falling debris. I also realized that sitting amongst a complex of Federal buildings in a city that had just been assaulted by an outside force was probably a bad idea. I stood, turned, and began the 30-block walk to my hotel.

During this trek, I kept hearing more and more bits of information. A plane had hit the Pentagon. There were possibly more hijacked planes in the sky. I stopped to talk to people. Find out what I could. Tell them what I saw. Then I heard another horrible sound from the crowd and I knew something else had happened. I couldn't think of what else it could be. I turned to look back toward the Towers and saw a large cloud of black-grey. It was twisting through the streets much in the way water runs through a maze of twists and turns. I watched as the debris spread, stopping a few blocks South of where I stood.

I turned back and continued my journey. As I walked around the park that stood in front of my hotel, my mind was reeling by what I had just seen, heard, and experienced. I spotted a lady walking a large, fuzzy, friendly looking dog. I asked her if I could hug him. She looked at me and asked me in a low tone if I had been by the World Trade Center. I said I had. She said, "Sure. It'll do you some good." After a few minutes of fuzz therapy, I thanked her and entered my hotel. Matt had already returned and picked up his room key. My sister-in-law informed me via phone a short time later that my brother had been trapped in that cloud I had seen racing through the streets. However, he was fine and had been delivered by a police car to Brooklyn.

My family and friend were safe.

Needless to say, I have been thinking a great deal over the past month. I have realized that, regardless what changes in the world around us, it is our friends and family that remain constant. Those that we are lucky to call our friend, or brother, or sister, or Mom, and the rest are what really matter.
[text removed for personal reasons]

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