René Jones

There are a million stories in this town.

But this one is mine...

Tuesday morning was a gorgeous fall day -- the bluest sky and not a cloud to be seen. I woke up at 6 am to get in a five mile run prior to voting in the NYC primary and heading for work.

As I have been training for the NYC marathon, I had recently discovered a fabulous urban trail starting from the South Ferry at the Tip of the island through the World Financial Center up along the West side to Harlem. On Saturday I had just completed my first 18 mile long run.

On Tuesday morning I had run across the Village to the West side and ran up to Chelsea Piers and headed back to the East Village. The views downtown were spectacular along the water and the World Trade Center and financial district in the background... Today, the Chelsea Piers is a make-shift morgue and the towers no longer exist.

Usually, I take the subway to work which drops me off about 4 blocks from the World Trade Center. But for some reason on Tuesday, I jumped on the M15 bus down 2nd Avenue to Wall Street. As we were approaching the South Street Seaport, we heard a loud boom. Many people suggested a shooting as we were in front of a high school. But then someone shouted look up there! We all looked up to see flames billowing from one of the WTC towers. Everyone was shouting "Oh my god!" I then called my mom on my cell phone and told her to turn on the news as I thought the WTC had been bombed...

A few stops later I arrived on Wall Street. There were scores of people on the streets just looking up. The sky was filled with paper resembling a ticker tape parade. We stood there in disbelief that the World Trade Center would be on fire. I bent down and there was a charred business card from an individual on the 85th floor.

It was more than I could bear. I then walked to my office at 110 Wall Street and there was a crowd of people in the lobby huddled around the big screen TV's.

Moments later... we saw a plane veering into the second tower and simultaneously hearing another thunderous boom.

What the hell was going on? Maybe the first plane could be an accident but two planes was an attack. What do we do?

We heard the exchange was closing down. My colleagues and I went to our offices thinking we wanted to call loved ones or go online for more information. Once inside we found the lines were busy and online service down. As we do not have a TV in our office, we headed downstairs. Thinking we would be gone for a short while, I left my purse on my desk containing my cell phone (with all my numbers), wallet and keys.

Downstairs, we watched both towers on fire knowing it was only blocks away. It was surreal. Then within minutes we heard an enormous crash followed by people running down Wall Street. I went to the lobby windows to see what could be happening. It was like a bad movie in which I did not want to be an extra. People were running for their lives toward the water with black smoke funneling down the street behind them.

I grabbed Caroline, my colleague who has lived in the city for 2 months, and we ran to the water only two blocks away. All I could think of was the building had fallen like a domino on Wall Street. Soot filled the air and the bluest sky turned to charcoal.

Within minutes there was an army of ferries taking citizens out of the city. My concern was the ferries were headed to Jersey, Staten Island or who knows where... I did not have a cent to my name. I only had my good health and the clothes on my back. We contemplated getting off the ferry and walking with the army of people up the FDR highway to safety. But by now the air was so thick with smoke we decided to head for safety as we knew not if there was more to come.

On the ferry, every person put on a life vest. I have never witnessed anything like it and hope to never again. There was fear in he air and disbelief. We heard the Pentagon had been bombed as well as the Supreme Court and the Capitol. Our world was under attack. As we rounded the island, the west side of the WTC was actually fairly clear of smoke as it was all blowing east. We looked up to see one smoldering tower remaining. Once again, "Oh my god! The building did fall!" I can't believe this is real.

Then before my very eyes, I witnessed the unthinkable. The second tower fell. Again, what B movie was I watching and were was Godzilla or King Kong? 110 floor buildings do not just fall from the sky. Total shock and silence for the remainder of the ferry ride.

We arrived safely to Jersey City. Caroline and I got off and had no place to go or a cent to our name. We then bumped into 2 young men who instantly became family. They told us not to worry.

We roamed the streets till we found refuge in a Doubletree Hotel lobby. We were glued to the TV and manically trying to call our loved ones. Cell phone service was virtually non-existent and the pay phones would only take coins. Like most of you, I do not remember anyone's number anymore. The numbers are programmed into my phone, palm pilot, etc. I could not even remember my own parents number since they had recently moved -- until thankfully it came to me.

Around five o'clock we walked 15 minutes over to Hoboken to stay at a friend of one of our new friends. Now in the comfort of our new friend's home we felt safe until they would let us back into the city. We bought toothbrushes, called loved ones, and remained riveted to the TV. Then miraculously at around 9:30pm they began to let people come back into the city via the PATH train. It took me close to Madison Square Garden where I jumped on the N/R subway toward home. There was unease in the air thinking could it strike again?

I arrived home to find my roommate was not there. He had not expected me home and I had tried unsuccessfully to reach him. Thus, after the long day I was locked out of my home. Thanks to a neighbor I was able to reach him and he arrived home to let me in. A colleague had brought my purse home with all my valuables.

Again like many of you, I stayed up half the night trying to make sense of this all. I was awakened by a phone call at 7:30am. Unable to fall back asleep, I went downstairs to grab my New York Times. Of course, it was missing. Then I went to the corner deli to buy a copy and they told me there will be no deliveries South of 14th Street... as I live on 9th I began my journey north in search of answers.

Reaching 14th Street it was barracaded with police. It took another 10 blocks to find a newspaper as people were snatching up all the copies they could find. On the corner was Beth Israel hospital with doctors waiting for the horrors to come. Heading back down to 14th I was only allowed back to my neighborhood because my driver's license had my current address. It was a police state... and I feel violated.

There were tanks on the streets of Manhattan. There are candle light vigils. Smoke is still engulfing the city. There are photo copies of victims posted near the hospitals in hopes their loved ones are inside. Flags fly at half mast. People are roaming in the streets in shock...

But New Yorkers are defiant. It is what makes this city tick. The Giulliani response team has been unbelievable. I still have no idea where all the ferries came from. The hospitals workers, firefighters, police officers, construction workers, clergy, etc. are working around the clock. We all want to help but there is little we can do but wait listen and be ready to serve in any way that is asked of us. New York city, the giant metropolis, has become a small town.