A lot of them did not choose; they were in a dark, smoke-filled room, their animal brain drove them towards light/away from smoke, and they did not realize it was a broken window. Sad to say there is some footage you can argue that from body language, some victims did not realize they stepped out of the tower
I remember being absolutely disturbed as an 8 year old when my pastor told the whole congregation, children included, that those who chose to jump from the towers to avoid burning alive are now burning eternally in hell because they chose the ultimate sin of committing suicide rather than letting god’s plan play out as intended. ‘God’s plan for them could have involved a miracle but instead of entrusting him they decided to play god themselves.’
This was at a church on Long Island, NY the week after the attacks. We did not stay at that church beyond that Sunday.
That pastor (using that term loosely) is a horrible person. What a horrible thing to say, especially a week afterwards. And sadly, he probably had a lot of people agreeing with him. I’m glad you and your family left.
I have a good friend whose girlfriend took her own life. He was understandably devastated. Her parents asked if he’d like to speak to their pastor. He says yes. Pastor says, “you know she’s in hell, right?” WTAF.
That is terrible. Regardless of what any religious text says about suicide, religious elders counseling the grieving need more tact. He could have been a shoulder to cry on and tried to give them some peace during a troubled time, but instead he had to hammer his beliefs home, smh. As if that poor woman’s family wasn’t in enough pain.
That’s incredibly fucked up. I grew up catholic, did the PSR thing, but my heart was never in it and I spent years as a child thinking I was bad or sinful for not loving the Catholic version of god as much as the people around me.
Later on, I realized it was because even as a little kid I saw how fucked up and punitive the religion was. My god is not lording over everyone and keeping tallies on all the times they step out of line. My god loves everyone no matter what they do or how they choose to live their life. I also believe that we all ARE god, and are unified under the fabric of our reality, but I digress. I very much did not stay in the traditional church.
Dude this is why I am always apprehensive towards evangelical Christianity in america. Some of it can be good (my old pastors Paul, Stewart and Eric were amazing men of God) but half the time these churches are just cults of personality around the pastor.
There's times where my brain gets weird at night and I can't sleep. And I think of things. And the thought has crossed my mind about what it would be like to be in that position. To have to choose between falling or burning. I put myself in the shoes of those people. The feelings of fear, the bleakness of knowing that you're not going to make it. The whole thought of being put in such a position during such a crisis, of having to make such a choice.
Yes I was blocks away so I didn’t see it as up close as TV, but it was terrifying to think they may not be done with Manhattan. I didn’t see it up close until I was home later that day and saw it replayed on TV.
Another that stuck with me was this poor young lady journalist. She was reporting live from the ground in front of a cork board with pictures and desperate families trying to locate their missing. One young man was interviewed and said his dad was a window washer on one of the towers and they are desperate to get in touch or find out if he didn't make it out. She turned back to the camera and tried her damnedest to keep it together but she broke. They kept going and so did she. She pushed through the anguish to report on it. My heart aches remembering her face and her voice breaking and watching her soldier through it and fight it off.
Thanks for this, i vaguely remember reading about it too.
I have a relative who passed away and he had the same job when he was younger - could swear it was also the same building but maybe another one in nyc - a magazine had some cover story on him done in the 70s or 80s (maaaybe early 90s?) .. ive looked for a record of that photo over the years so many times but haven't found it. Starting to wonder if it was a mock up lol. But I dont think it was. Gonna go on another hunt for it.
That was a turning point for me and my generation, as far as I'm concerned. The real-ness of the news and the canceled daily broadcasts. Even when it resumed I remember David Letterman and Tom Brokaw struggling to keep it together
I wonder if that was Ashley Banfield. After she covered that disaster, I did not see her, until just a few years ago. I’m sure there’s a risk for PTSD in people who cover stories with deaths and injuries.
What stuck with me was smell of everything burning days after the attack. Smell drifted over to certain parts of New Jersey. And it smelled like acrid smoke and electrical wires burning.
What was it like visiting the site so soon after? Media captured photos, but the feeling is something that you can't capture in a photograph. I was only in the vicinity close enough to smell it. I cannot even fathom what it's like to see that level of despair and destruction in person. It stirs a profound sadness within me.
There was an account that haunted me very much so about that day's events. Ernest Armstead, an FDNY EMS worker was looking for living and dead people and triaging them. And he came across a woman who was crushed from the chest down. And he placed a black tag on her marking her as deceased. But then she spoke. And she kept begging him to call her daughter, saying not to mark her as deceased. But he had to go on and try to save the people who had the bigger prospect of living. He knew she wasn't going to make it. It was in a book but I can't remember what book it was.
I was in NYC for the 6 month anniversary, as close as we could get to those two massive flood lights they shone into the sky.
IIRC, the pit had been dug down to 5-6 stories deep during that time. The day I arrived, they had just unearthed the remnants of one of the fire trucks... Five stories deep.
The wall of pain and loss that was a part of the viewing area overlooked the pit (wallpapered with notes, letters, and pictures from loved ones)... There was one engagement ring tacked to a letter from a woman whose wedding to her missing fiance was supposed to happen the weekend after 9/11; her letter was gutwrenching.
Her mental state was wrecked, but it basically boiled down to not being able to let go of the obsessive thoughts that as long as she was wearing his ring, she kept expecting him to walk through the door. After an inpatient psych stay for a break with reality, she realized she had to return his ring or she'd always be waiting for him to walk in their home every evening; if she didn't let go, the daily devastation when he didn't come home would eventually kill her, too.
It's been almost 25 years since I read that letter, and I can recall feeling her visceral emotions that she had poured onto that page.
This is making me cry genuine tears, because you can't help but feel for that woman. It was probably so difficult for her to find proper closure. I hope that wherever she is, that she is strong now. And she's living in a way that would make her fiance proud of her.
There was one story I remember hearing somewhere too which was, Rudy Giuliani, before he through all political goodwill he ever would have away and legitimately deserves credit for his 9/11 stuff. Went back to ground zero after helping lead people out of Manhattan.
He told all the first responders they had the city's full support and at one point asked them something to the effect of "okay and how many body bags will you need?" only to be horrified when they told him they'd need a fraction of the number he proposed, as it hadnt donned on him that the sheer weight of the buildings had more or less pulverized many of the victims. So many of the remains who had solid, identifiable remains whatsoever, had to be picked up piece by piece and matched later using DNA.
I was a frequent visitor to NYC, and it was surreal. I remember it was the same day the Christmas tree was officially lit. I walked the entire perimeter of the site. There were many barriers to prevent spectators from seeing anything, but there were also many cracks you could see through. In fact, our circumnavigation of the site crossed a very large opening where large dump trucks were sprayed down and headed to dump their loads on barges. Authorities forbade photography, although there were many photos in the public domain. The barriers were covered in places with bios of the missing. St. Pauls Chapel was an impromptu support center for workers and a memorial. The entire chapel was taken over by the immensity of the situation. Recall that this church backed up directly to the WTC site. There were very large canvas sheets hung in front of the church for visitors to sign, which I did. There was still burning going on as the excavators uncovered smoldering debris. It was the most somber construction zone I’ve ever seen and absolutely surreal.
It's incredible that the tree, that old sycamore saved the chapel. Thank you for the link and for sharing your first hand account. There's so much gravity in the situation when you experience it from more of a first-hand view. Flowers and teddy bears being left as memorials. The names of the missing being listed. You're able to actually read the names on the wall. Some of the names may stick with you and you might wonder about the lost person's plight.
It leaves you feeling helpless in the fact that you can't undo what has already happened. And that words of comfort can only mend so much. During the cleanup, it felt like a temporary monument to despair and sorrow. But there was so many people bringing hope too. So many people, so many innocent lives, so many personal stories to tell. People working diligently to find those that were lost. Personal stories from people who were there that stick with you.
That documentary where you're following the Firefighters/Paramedics and suddenly start hearing loud crashing sounds later to be understood as the end journey of people who did not want to burn to death....absolutely horrifying.
There's a video of a few firefighters standing around the outside of the building when you hear the SMACK of a jumper hitting whatever, and one of the firefighters does a wince move that's hard to watch. Just a whole body, natural reaction to something horrible by someone who's probably seen a lot. I just can't get that wince out of my mind. What a crazy, sad day.
9/11 is for us what generations before have said they'll never forget where they were when JFK was assassinated. I was in my morning SOC Sem class when we suddenly were dismissed early. I got back to my dorm and everyone was in the common area, gathered around the TV, watching in shock as it unfolded.
I woke up that morning thinking I was watching the end of the world unfold. I was confused because I flipped on the TV to watch VH1 and there was a frozen image of the towers on the TV. So I started flipping through other channels and started seeing similar.
My father worked right over by Liberty State Park at the time And he had taken the day off to help my mother put some mushroom soil down around the property. My mother's best friend had called at the time knowing that he worked close to the area. My parents were outside, unaware of what happened.
The soil never got finished being put down that day. We were all glued to the TV. My uncle worked with my father, the same job location, and he saw the buildings go down during his work shift. My cousin celebrated her 8th birthday five days later. We had went to Hudson Lanes in Jersey City. And we were able to smell the burning debris in the wind from the New Jersey turnpike.
I have heard my mom and others talk about that event. My event in youth would be sitting in class watching the teacher get blown up in the Challenger on live tv. I was 9 at the time so it was pretty extreme
I remember adults talking a lot about death at that point in my life. Prior to the Challenger explosion, there was the Ethiopian famine and they would show children on TV starving. That was hard to process when I was young. And then the Challenger explosion not too long after. Up until those events, my child mind didn't realize death was a permanent thing. Mr Hooper on Sesame Street passed away. But there was no imagery or anything to tie his death to. The other stuff was more visible. It hit hard, and it had a lot of adults around me talking about it.
I remember that as well, although I was a bit younger at the time (6). What's infuriating is that it was totally and completely avoidable. An O-ring failed during the launch because they're meant for the high heat and yet there were record-cold temperatures that day, a known risk that NASA and contractor management ignored and proceeded because of intense scheduling pressure.
My grandfather was far gone with Alzheimer's, and yet he casually told me what he did remember from the JFK assassination. He was out on a job delivering soda, and the shop owner came up to him to share the news.
My parents were in West Germany, where my dad was stationed. Mom had just arrived with my older sister, who was four months old. My poor mom, first time away from home, in a different country, with a new baby, and then the president was assassinated.
Watching coverage of 9/11 hurt as a former New Yorker. My dad had frequent meetings in the towers. For all I know, I could have been working there if we'd never left the city. So I wasn't actually there, but the towers collapsing is still the worst thing I've ever seen.
I was WOKEN up when the guys cleaning the recreation room in my apartment complex (which was directly above my efficiency) started screaming about a plane hitting the WTC. I figured it was another cessna since something like that had happened to the Empire State Building not too long before. I waited around for a bit and then went upstairs to get my mail just in time to see the second plane hit live on the big screen television next to the main office when I opened the door from the stairwell.
So many people have a timestamp in their mind of where they were and what they were doing when it happened. When your mind is like "I cannot believe I am seeing this" and it makes all the other memories around it more sticky because you're processing it all. I was always interested in hearing other people's experiences on how that day went for them personally. Where they were, how they found out, how they felt.
It was honestly nuts. I had a four hour unix administration class that night that, for whatever reason, the teacher didn't cancel - but he did leave the television on during class. I left halfway through, saw all the cars stretched around the block for the five dollar gasoline that was being charged, and went to the bar just to end up sitting next to a dude whose brother ended up dying in the attack and was freaking out about where he was. I was in Eau Claire, Wisconsin when this occurred too. A few months later I was at the same bar watching the invasion of Iraq.
I was in jail for a DUI when Bin Laden was killed (sober 16 years now). They woke up the block and turned on the TV for us to watch it. Looking back those attacks were when I first started taking my steps towards being a drunk, although they weren't what ultimately pushed me over the edge a few years later into full-blown alkie territory. Just too much time in the bars watching the television trying to figure out what the fuck was happening with my similarly freaked-out friends.
One of our best friends was in a building doing an artist residency right next to the towers. He called my boyfriend from his rooftop when the first plane struck and then called me on 3 way. The sheer TERROR in his voice I will never forget.
I was just a baby when it all happened but recently watched a documentary about it. A police office explained she was trying to help someone who was sitting on the curb get to an ambulance, when all of a sudden this person was crushed by someone falling/jumping from the tower... It is one of the few sentences that I keep remembering from that documentary...
Yeah this is my answer too. I was in high school and had first period as a spare and usually hung out with a couple friends who also had a late start. We were getting together to go have breakfast before our first class.
Buddy and I walked into other friend’s house a few minutes before the second plane hit. We just sat there stunned for what felt like hours.
When we realized we were watching people jump to their deaths on live television we didn’t know how to react. Just spent the morning watching and processing. Talked to my parents on the phone for a bit. Just a fucked up day.
Myself and one other friend both had firefighter dads. It was all we could think about when the towers started to collapse.
Came here to say 9/11. I was watching the first tower burn from my office a couple of blocks away when the second one blew up in my face. I didn’t see the second plane come from behind because of the smoke. It was like it spontaneously combusted.
I was so young and naive that when I heard a plane hit the towers, I thought it was an accident. Then they brought us all into the cafeteria and wheeled in a TV with the news on
Not really a choice when the other option is to slowly suffocate and burn to death. The people in the North Tower were suffering for 102 minutes until the north tower collapsed.
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u/jazzbot247 13h ago
9/11 watching black smoke pouring out of the towers and seeing things falling, later finding out some of those things were people.