Living in New Jersey, it was noon before I turned on the TV and heard that the planes had hit the towers. My first thought was of my ex-girlfriend, who was still a friend. She worked temp jobs and I had no idea whether she was in the Trade Center or not. I called her cell phone, then her home phone, but all lines were jammed. On this ironically bright September day, it didn’t matter that I had thought of cutting off all contact with her. I wanted nothing more than to hear her voice.
I watched TV in despair and shock and tried to call other New York friends but the lines were still jammed. I grieved over all that had died and even over the loss of the towers themselves, which were the symbol to me of the international city, the portal to the entire world, just miles from where I had been raised and still lived.
Then, the ring.
the voice of my friend
on her cell phone