Remembering September 11 | The Healthy Beauty Project -by Todra Payne

Ten years ago today, I woke up early and called my agent before heading out the door for a leisurely walk, maybe a cup of espresso at a coffee shop in my neighborhood, the West Village. I was a makeup artist checking in for work, as usual. My agent asked me if I was aware of what was going on? I wasn’t. He said they were being told to evacuate SoHo because a plane had accidentally  hit The World Trade Center.

He hesitated when he used the word, “accidentally.” I yelled in the phone, “What?” But he said he had to go and didn’t have time to talk anymore. One of my neighbors banged on my door as I stood in my bedroom holding the phone. “Come quick!” She yelled. “Something awful has happened. We can see it from the corner.”

I threw on sweats and ran outside to the corner of 14th Street and 7th Avenue, where most of my neighbors were gathered. My now ex-husband grabbed his camera (he was just starting to work as a photographer’s assistant) and dashed out behind me. Standing on the corner, I had a clear view of the first tower, with a big billow of smoke trailing out of one side. Someone near me had a radio and I could hear a news reporter confirming that this was a flight gone awry.

But then it happened. The second tower was hit. And the guy on the radio said, “I don’t want to be the first person to say this, but I think we’re under attack.” Everyone around me went quiet. My 8-year-old friend/neighbor found me in the crowd. She buried her face in my stomach and said, “This is just like Israel. People blow up things and hurt each other all the time.” She had only lived in America for a few years. Her family had left Israel to raise her far away from fighting. How ironic.

I tried to tell her this wasn’t going to be like that. But honestly, I didn’t know what it was going to be like.

My first response was anger. Who’s coming over here blowing up our buildings? It took a few moments before it sunk in that they weren’t just buildings. I asked someone, “What time is it?” I don’t remember the exact response, but I remember realizing it was rush hour and hundreds, possibly thousands of people could be in those buildings already. My mind spanned through everyone I knew personally who could be in one of those buildings.

I ran inside to try to call friends (didn’t have a cell phone back then). I couldn’t get anyone I knew because, naturally, they’d be in transit. Or worse. Trapped in the towers. I called a friend who lived across the water in Jersey. She had a perfect view of the towers as though they sat in her backyard. We had barely said, “hello,” when a neighbor banged on my door screaming and crying, “The tower fell!” I slammed the phone down and ran back outside. There was only one tower where they’d always been two.

I burst into tears. Everyone was crying, yelling, asking questions and rushing around. Ambulances were blaring all around us. I couldn’t take it. I went back inside my building and sat on the stairs. An ex-roommate who’d become an arch enemy passed me on the stairs. We looked at each other. Her friend who was with her said, “It all seems kinda stupid now, right?” referring to the ongoing bickering between all of us.

I shook my head and looked away, embarrassed. A few minutes later, I dragged myself up the stairs to my apartment. My ex came up behind me and said, “Todra.” I turned, sure it was more bad news judging by the look on his face. “The second tower just fell.” I almost lost my breath. I couldn’t cry anymore. There wasn’t a single tear left. I was just in shock. I kept thinking about all of the people who must be dead. I followed him back outside and watched the smoke rising and the empty hole where the towers had stood just a few hours before.

The fear on the street was palpable. US Military planes circled overhead, causing some people to panic because they didn’t know if they were ours or “theirs”. All of the phones were down. Transportation in and out of Manhattan was immediately shut down. We were on an island – trapped.

Over the next few hours, days, weeks it all became sadder as we learned of the massive number of lost lives. We had stories of heroism and a country that pulled together during an awful time. We had a new outlook, I think. New York definitely changed afterward. The jagged edges seemed softened. The city was quieter.

I didn’t lose anyone I knew directly. But friends lost co-workers, siblings and parents. It was hard to sit with them during their grief because I never know what to say. I just let them cry while I hugged them.

I will never forget.

Where were you during 9/11?

photo by vitasamb2001