My very first work day Sept 11, 2001 in the world trade center complex
WRITTEN ON SEPTEMBER 11, 2011:
“I am German and was 27 years old in 2001. My first day of work after graduation in my new job was Sept. 11 at the World Trade Center Complex in New York. I had my first interview at WFC2 the Friday before. I got through to the next round right away, so I had a drink with friends at Windows of the World, on the top floor of the World Trade Tower, to celebrate. Once you're over 100 floors up, you have to look for the Statue of Liberty because it looks so small. It sent a shiver down my spine, because 4 days later, neither the bar nor the people in it were still there.
On the following Monday, September 10th, I was there for the second round. I was asked when I could start working. When you apply for a job in New York, you should show as much commitment as possible and answer the question with “Tomorrow”. However, my future employer told me: “ok, tomorrow September 11th, 09am”.
The weather was wonderful on the morning of September 11th, the sun was shining, bright blue skies. Not too cold, not too warm, a gentle breeze. I was there a little earlier to have a time buffer.
I was much too early and I had the idea of having a coffee in the “Window of the World”, but I rejected this idea for reasons I no longer understand. If I had gone, I wouldn't be alive today. A second SChauer in retrospect.
I checked in (I was in WFC2 - the World Financial Center 2, which was connected to Word Trade Tower 1 by a pedestrian glass passage).
Even before September 11, there was a high level of security in the World Trade Center complex: security checks with Xray pass-throughs, as you know them from the airport. It was a few minutes before 9 when people were running out of the glass passageway from the other building, the North Tower (which was hit first). They kept looking back and my first assumption was that a gunman running amok was causing people to run. I took a step behind the reception desk so I could hide in case of an emergency. Eyes and mouths wide open. More and more people streamed towards me from the North Tower. A lady ran up to the reception desk where I was standing and shouted: “Call 911, there is a bomb, there is a bomb!” (“Make an emergency call! a bomb, a bomb”)
I saw more and more people pouring out of the hallway and running out of the building I was in. I ran after a few men towards the south-east exit. I thought to myself: if there's a bomb, I have to get out of here first. If there's a bomb threat that turns out to be a hoax, I can get back in. I'm sure my new boss will understand that I can't get to the 43rd floor if there's a bomb in the same complex.
I didn't notice the impact in the first tower at all, even though I was less than 100 meters away from the building. But the impact took place about 90 floors above me.
As I stood in the courtyard and looked up at the building, I saw smoke rising from the cracks in the windows. On two or three floors. A policeman next to me, who didn't know anything yet because it had probably just happened, told me that someone had blown themselves up with a bomb. At that point I believed - I don't know why - that everyone was safe and had already been evacuated. Everything seemed to be under control. The police officer and I were both standing on the opposite side of the tower from where the plane had arrived. So I didn't see an airplane. As small particles, papers, etc. were already falling down, I moved a few meters away in the direction of the Hudson River.
A friend called me and informed me that an airplane had flown into the building. I told her that it must be a mistake, I didn't see an airplane.
Then an announcement: everyone should go back to the second tower, back to work, no need to panic, no danger to the other tower or the other buildings.
My thoughts: My new employer . I should actually be back in the building. What kind of first impression would I make if I was absent on my first day at work?
I didn't understand what was going on at all, but my body seemed to be smarter and was shaking all over. Which I was still wondering about at that moment.
My surreal decision-making process began as to whether I should go back to my building for the employer, which hadn't been hit, or whether I should leave. I thought that if the tower broke at the top, it would fall directly on the building I was working in. As we were on the top floor, I feared that the consequences would be fatal.
This decision was taken away from me when the second plane flew over my head into the building. There were only a few of us down there on the water (max. 100) right next to the buildings. But there were more and more. Next to me was a crying African-American woman who was obviously on the phone to someone who was above the plane in the first tower and was “saying goodbye” without knowing it. She was crying and saying goodbye to her.
After the second plane, we ran for our lives. We all didn't know what was really going on. My brain seemed to be taking in the information of what I was experiencing but was unable to process it. I wasn't afraid. But collectively we were all thinking the same thing down there: if the whole of Manhattan gets bombed, I'll jump into the Hudson River, then I might have a chance of survival.
I was wandering headless through lower Manhattan and was traumatized. I ran for my life and started crying. An orthodox Jew with a hat and curly hair helped me in this emergency situation. In retrospect, as a German, it was somehow an act of healing that a Jew helped a German. We walked past cafes, a little dusty and pale, and passed people sitting outside sipping their cappuccino who hadn't noticed anything yet. Bizarre. At St. Vincent Hospital in the West Village, the doctors were waiting for injured people who never arrived. Because at this point there were either slightly injured or dead people, of whom nothing was left due to the heat.
On the street, I was met by what I thought was an errant man yelling: “They hit the Pentagon.” (“They hit the Pentagon”) The movie “Independence Day” came to my mind at that moment. All the strategic points of the USA were hit.
My Jewish helper walked with me to 23 Street, where I was embraced by my distraught girlfriend, who had already thought I was dead. After 9 hours I was able to reach my family in Germany, who had already called me hundreds of times and had not been able to reach me and had also thought I was dead.
That night, the military circled over the city. No one was allowed to leave or enter Manhattan. You felt trapped, but somehow also protected, the streets were empty, the military were on every corner with machine guns. I cried almost non-stop for two weeks. And watched the news day and night so as not to miss another catastrophe. It was all so unreal. I could finally understand what it means to be unsafe on the streets and got a sense of what war might feel like. Nothing is a given anymore or can be taken for granted. People pushed their TVs onto the street, strangers hugged me on the street that day. The whole of New York wept bitterly. You could feel the grief, but also the fear.
Over the next few days, there were repeated bomb threats in the city, freeloaders exploiting the traumatic experience.
I wanted to help and donate blood, but everyone in the city wanted to. Everyone felt the need to help somehow, but they already had more than enough blood reserves.
I took the first machine to Switzerland and tried to process the experience. I flinched at every loud noise for the first few months. Then came the fear of flying. I cried on every flight for the whole 8 hours and was scared to death. Stewardesses held my hands and I couldn't fly without tablets for years. I flew anyway, because otherwise I would have had to give up my job, my adopted country and my life.
But it wasn't easy.
But there were also funny stories in the midst of the heaviest grief. Back in New York in October or November 2001, I spoke to a firefighter friend who had lost many friends and colleagues about how he was doing. He said he felt sick. I sympathetically understood that when you spend days and weeks searching for survivors in the toxic, smoky hell and only find pulverized objects and the occasional piece of jewelry or body part, it must take a psychological toll on you.
and even search and rescue dogs, which are trained to find victims, are traumatized because they didn't find any victims. they were given actors so that the dogs wouldn't suffer a psychological blow and had a “sense of achievement”.
But Mat, the firefighter, replied: “No, I feel sick from all these sandwiches. The people are so kind and support us with everything they have. Most of them make sandwiches and leave chocolates and flowers on our doorstep out of appreciation and gratitude for the hard work we do. But there are far too many of them. We don't want to throw the stuff away and now everyone has to eat a huge quota of Sandwhiches every day. That's why I feel sick.
The countless missing persons posters that had been put up everywhere were somewhat ghostly. Because hardly any body parts were found as the heat pulverized everything, many relatives hoped that their loved one was still alive. Photos of people who had been in the WTC at the time were hung on every lamppost on every fence. The usual wording was:
“Who has seen this man (photo) ? Last seen on the 107th floor of the World Trade Center.” As an outsider, these search reports made you sad because you knew whoever was in the building above the planes never got out alive.
I started at the same company on Halloween and worked in the World Financial Tower, which had been evacuated for a long time. I organized the entire company move and was one of the first people in the building. It was strange. My office had glass facades and right in front of me, when I looked out the window, I could see all of Manhattan because we were so high up. When I looked down, I looked into the big hole where the two towers used to be. I worked in this office until 2004.
I lived in Battery Park (7 min walk from the WTC) for a long time after 9/11, and got a $500 check from the city every month because every apartment in Zone 0 (immediate Ground Zero zone) was subsidized.
Our apartment was only 300 meters away from Ground Zero, i.e. in Zone 0. For years afterwards, toxic substances were still being measured in the air and people were reluctant to live in Lower Manhattan near the giant tomb again. In other words, I saw Ground Zero every day until 2004. I didn't mind being in that place so much. You don't think about it every day. You get used to it. For years it's just been a huge construction site for me that I've always walked past, you don't let this day play out in front of your eyes every day. But on the anniversary, you get goosebumps, you mourn the many dead and their families. You relive the experience and cry.
Because of my work, I am often at the New York Stock Exchange and in the Wall Street District. That's why I often pass Ground Zero today. It doesn't trigger anything because it's so firmly anchored in my everyday life. I think if I hadn't been to the site for 10 years and were to return to it now for the first time, it would certainly evoke different emotions.
I worked for the same company (as described above) - just 6 weeks later. All the buildings and companies in the area were evacuated. You couldn't move back into the complex until the following year, at least what was left of it.
At first I didn't know if my employer had survived, so I wrote countless emails and called, but no answer for 3 weeks. And then, as luck would have it, I saw my employer being interviewed on German television on a private channel and found out where the company had been evacuated to and that they would only have full communication again in the next few days. I promptly received an email from New York saying that I could still work for them if I still wanted to, but that they would understand if I didn't want to come to NY. I flew there and started at Halloween 2011.
I then set up my own business in Germany in 2004. I've had an apartment and an office in Germany again since 2004. I am a producer, director and TV writer. Most of my clients are from New York. I still visit New York 4-6 times a year to see my spouses and my 3 godchildren, to enjoy the city and to be inspired.
September 11th was traumatic for me, I had an extreme fear of flying for 10 years. I was scared to death every time I flew, but I knew that if I didn't face it, I would lose a home: New York or Germany.
I used various methods and therapies to get rid of my fear of flying.
My advantage was that I had enjoyed flying until September 11. But now I was afraid of dying. Not even of a terrorist attack, but simply of crashing for some reason.
In between, I once traveled by ship from England to New York on the Queen Elizabeth 2... it was pleasant, but very expensive and lasted 6 days, so it wasn't a permanent solution, but simply a break from flying.
I got rid of my fear of flying and am now richer in experience.
In this respect, I am grateful for this experience in a way, as it revealed my instincts to me: in death situations, you get to know yourself from a completely different perspective: Animalistic survival instinct that you can only experience in such situations and I faced a fear that was so engaging that it made me physically sick days before the next flight took off.
What did it teach me?
A different perspective on life, nothing is a given. And fears are there to be overcome. If you don't face your fear, it gets stronger and expands. Fear can eat away at your soul. So you could say that September 11th taught me NOT to be afraid and to face every fear. It makes you grow. It took me exactly 10 years to overcome most of my fear of flying.
This coming September 11, I will remember the dead as always. I will privately and silently send my wishes to the still grieving relatives.
My thoughts also go out to the many firefighters and private helpers who selflessly worked many hours on site and are now suffering from severe respiratory illnesses. Many have already died as a result. So there are still victims of September 11.
It's unbelievable that 10 years have passed since then. For me, it's as if it had just happened.
I've been to New York on 9/11 a few times since then. To be there and to mourn with the relatives. The wound is still deep. Some of my friends have been to over 200 funerals, most unable to have a proper burial, only a memorial service, as no remains were ever found.
Tears still involuntarily well up when I watch documentaries about it. There are regular newspaper articles, TV programs, talk shows, interviews and exhibitions around the world on every anniversary. I consciously stay away from all of this. For me, this day is my second birthday, which I celebrate duly and in silence and remember the 2,000 victims who died in close proximity to me on this day.”
TRAUMATIC EXPERIENCES have long-term consequences that often remain unconscious. These consequences creep in in the form of certain thought structures, recurring emotional states and life patterns that emerge in loops.
You can use this pain and create something very valuable from it, like the traditional Japanese art of Kintsugi. Let's just write if you like, I'll give you a few practical tools free of charge and without obligation. And if they bring you something and we can smell each other well, then perhaps the Flamingo Journey would be something for you.
ZEITUNGSAUSSCHNITTE AUS VERSCHIEDENEN JAHREN
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