[A more clinical and objective view can be found here.]
When I first walked into English class at St. John's University, it was a little before 9am. The professor was one Dr. Robert Forman. He was always entertaining, and there's something about him that tells you he cares that you learn something in his class.
The first person I saw was my classmate Tony. I said hello, and he asked, "Did you hear something about a plane running into the World Trade Center?"
And I laughed. All I could think is what idiot could have missed noticing that there were two rather large buttersticks in the sky right in front of him?
I explained that to Tony. He agreed, and I gave it no thought at all for the rest of the 90-minute class.
I went from one class to another -- Christian Spirituality and Mysticism, 10:40am, taught by a priest whose name I can't recall right this moment. He was not only pleasant, but happy. He was also very Italian, and joked about it often.
When I arrived, the professor wasn't there, and someone came into class saying that classes were canceled.
Huh. That's odd.
I went to the nearest inter-university phone and called my father -- who was an Assistant Dean at SJU. I called, told him my class was cancelled, and how are you doing?
"Come to the office."
Ok .... click.
Walking from one building to the other required that I cross from Marillac Hall, past Council and Newman Halls -- a narrow corridor outside that was as well directed as any sidewalk intersection without a traffic stop.
Ironically, it was afforded the best view of the Manhattan skyline that the University had to offer, without going into the university library --- SJU is, for the record, the highest point in Queens.
But, I didn't stop for a second. My pace was quick and even, mainly because there were so few people in my way -- for once.
Though there was one odd bit of business going on at the time, something I found odd even before I made it to my father's office: there were clusters of people with their cell phones out. After the third such group, I felt like I was in a scene from Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds.
I walked into my father's office at the other side of the library, and before I could even open my mouth, my father said, "Planes have crashed into the Pentagon and the World Trade Center. The twin towers are gone, and the Pentagon is burning."
And I remember this quite clearly, because I had a little red notebook with me at the time ... my first thought was "Didn't Tom Clancy already write this novel?"
My father suggested I go to the library, and observe the skyline. by the time I got there, the library was locked. So I walked back to the terrace I had just gone over.
Instead of a skyline, there were ground based storm clouds running from south to north. I stood there for an unknown length of time, completely focused on it. I didn't even notice my acquaintance Andy walk up next to me.
"I can't wrap my mind around it," he said. "I can't believe they're gone."
If I replied to him, I don't remember.
When I first walked into English class at St. John's University, it was a little before 9am. The professor was one Dr. Robert Forman. He was always entertaining, and there's something about him that tells you he cares that you learn something in his class.
The first person I saw was my classmate Tony. I said hello, and he asked, "Did you hear something about a plane running into the World Trade Center?"
And I laughed. All I could think is what idiot could have missed noticing that there were two rather large buttersticks in the sky right in front of him?
I explained that to Tony. He agreed, and I gave it no thought at all for the rest of the 90-minute class.
I went from one class to another -- Christian Spirituality and Mysticism, 10:40am, taught by a priest whose name I can't recall right this moment. He was not only pleasant, but happy. He was also very Italian, and joked about it often.
When I arrived, the professor wasn't there, and someone came into class saying that classes were canceled.
Huh. That's odd.
I went to the nearest inter-university phone and called my father -- who was an Assistant Dean at SJU. I called, told him my class was cancelled, and how are you doing?
"Come to the office."
Ok .... click.
Walking from one building to the other required that I cross from Marillac Hall, past Council and Newman Halls -- a narrow corridor outside that was as well directed as any sidewalk intersection without a traffic stop.
Ironically, it was afforded the best view of the Manhattan skyline that the University had to offer, without going into the university library --- SJU is, for the record, the highest point in Queens.
But, I didn't stop for a second. My pace was quick and even, mainly because there were so few people in my way -- for once.
Though there was one odd bit of business going on at the time, something I found odd even before I made it to my father's office: there were clusters of people with their cell phones out. After the third such group, I felt like I was in a scene from Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds.
I walked into my father's office at the other side of the library, and before I could even open my mouth, my father said, "Planes have crashed into the Pentagon and the World Trade Center. The twin towers are gone, and the Pentagon is burning."
And I remember this quite clearly, because I had a little red notebook with me at the time ... my first thought was "Didn't Tom Clancy already write this novel?"
My father suggested I go to the library, and observe the skyline. by the time I got there, the library was locked. So I walked back to the terrace I had just gone over.
Instead of a skyline, there were ground based storm clouds running from south to north. I stood there for an unknown length of time, completely focused on it. I didn't even notice my acquaintance Andy walk up next to me.
"I can't wrap my mind around it," he said. "I can't believe they're gone."
If I replied to him, I don't remember.
