In an instant, everything changed. Their curiosity, gone. Their questions, answered. What they witnessed was an attack. All they knew was that it was time to go.
September 11th, 2001 started just like any other day for Marc Fiedler.
The suffering through the inhumanity of train passengers. The grumbling over his office relocating from the area surrounding the World Trade Center to Jersey City. The anguishing move subjected him every time he looked out from his office in Jersey City, across the waters of the Hudson River, and peered into New York. In other words, it was just another Tuesday.
As the towers crumbled, debris rained down. The impact from the planes had set off a deadly chain reaction. The weight of each floor above the impact zone was slowly accumulating. The World Trade Center hadn’t just been attacked, it had been weaponized. It was a structural ticking time bomb.
Even as Marc tried to remain optimistic through all the chaos, everyone seemed to have grasped that things had changed. People were civil at the train station. No one complained about the delays. A somber air permeated the car as Marc rode the train home. There was a collective understanding that everyone was in mourning.