Voices
4.5 years after the events of September 11, the city of New York released partial recordings of 911 calls made by people trapped inside the towers of the World Trade Center. While they stripped the calls of the voices of the callers for obvious privacy reasons, one can hear the 911 operators on the line and re-create the painful conversations that took place between 8:45 and 10:30am.
I've made a conscious effort to not talk about the events of that day when the topic would arise amongst a group of friends, because it's just too painful to think about. Many people talk about it in the abstract now- either it's already too far away or they weren't in New York or DC/VA at the time, so their experiences relating to it are exponentially different.
Reading about the calls has brought it all rushing back.
I was living in New York at the time, can remember the exact time and place, what I was doing, who I was talking to, when I first heard. I remember every single minute of that day, how I got home from work, the route I took to get there, and what I did from then until 3am the next morning. While I thankfully knew not one single soul who perished, what happened on that day has been permanently etched in my mind and had caused me to suffer from some type of post-traumic stress that I didn't realize until after the fact. From that day in 2001 until sometime during the spring of 2003, I would dream the same type of dream, a recurring nightmare I guess, where the setting would change but the characters and plot remained the same throughout. Thinking about it now, the details of those dreams are still colorfully vivid in my mind.
I only told a handful of people about this at the time. While I don't have the nightmares with the same frequency anymore, some remnants of the habits that started then still remain: I drive faster in tunnels and over bridges, and continually look to my right and to my left to take notice of any planes that may be flying too low. The loud noise of the helicopters flying along the Potomac and near my building in Foggy Bottom used to scare the crap out me, as they always appear out of nowhere, but I'm used to it now. Whenever I hear the roar of airplane jets that sound just a bit too close for comfort, I stop in my tracks and take notice of everything that surrounds me.
I've made a conscious effort to not talk about the events of that day when the topic would arise amongst a group of friends, because it's just too painful to think about. Many people talk about it in the abstract now- either it's already too far away or they weren't in New York or DC/VA at the time, so their experiences relating to it are exponentially different.
Reading about the calls has brought it all rushing back.
I was living in New York at the time, can remember the exact time and place, what I was doing, who I was talking to, when I first heard. I remember every single minute of that day, how I got home from work, the route I took to get there, and what I did from then until 3am the next morning. While I thankfully knew not one single soul who perished, what happened on that day has been permanently etched in my mind and had caused me to suffer from some type of post-traumic stress that I didn't realize until after the fact. From that day in 2001 until sometime during the spring of 2003, I would dream the same type of dream, a recurring nightmare I guess, where the setting would change but the characters and plot remained the same throughout. Thinking about it now, the details of those dreams are still colorfully vivid in my mind.
I only told a handful of people about this at the time. While I don't have the nightmares with the same frequency anymore, some remnants of the habits that started then still remain: I drive faster in tunnels and over bridges, and continually look to my right and to my left to take notice of any planes that may be flying too low. The loud noise of the helicopters flying along the Potomac and near my building in Foggy Bottom used to scare the crap out me, as they always appear out of nowhere, but I'm used to it now. Whenever I hear the roar of airplane jets that sound just a bit too close for comfort, I stop in my tracks and take notice of everything that surrounds me.
posted by elanit | 11:34 AM
1 Comments:
I've actually been thinking about the same topic for a while now, and I completely understand. I can't quite get the feeling of dread to go away every time I see a plane flying low (and given that we're about 2 miles from National Airport, that's pretty often).
Post a Comment
<< Home