The New Yorker (9-12-01) | The Twisted Sky
When I walked out of the subway, I went into reportorial autopilot. I know this now because I am looking at my notes as if I had never seen them before.
...On the corner, not far from Murray Street, as thousands of frightened and crying people fled, I saw a giant corkscrew of singed metal sitting in front of an abandoned bagel cart. It took me a minute or so to realize that it was the engine of a jet plane.
It never occurred to me that there was much left to be scared about. I didn't feel that I was in any danger; I felt like an extra in a movie, waiting for Bruce Willis to come and save the day. But as I stood there, staring at the twisted sky, I began to realize what was happening. People were jumping or diving from the highest floors of the North Tower. Others were clinging to beams and ledges that had buckled when the plane plowed into the building. But, one by one, every few minutes, another person lost his grip or just let go. From down on the street it looked almost like a desperate ballet: some seemed to be flying, their arms sweeping gracefully as they picked up speed. Others tumbled and some just dropped, rigid, all the way down. I was standing next to a woman in a blue blazer that said F.B.I. on it. She was crying and I started to cry, too.
WNBC (5-17-02) | Exclusive: Couple Captures WTC Attack On Tape
The couple said they're going public because people back home in Seattle don't realize the lingering impact of Sept. 11. They said when they bring up their continuing nightmares, friends have recently told them to "just get over it."
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