I was underground on the PATH train when the planes hit (the subway that takes those who live in New Jersey to Manhattan). I heard people casually talking about an accident while I walked to the office I was working in that day, but didn't think anything of it. Crazy things happen in NY all the time. When I got to the office, the receptionist was inconsolably crying. I'd not worked at this place for more than a day, so I kept to myself. I sat at my desk and went online to find information on whatever this accident was. I was shocked, to say the least. I began emailing/calling as many people as I could to let them know I was OK - I was concerned that communications would go down (they did eventually). A guy I was working for called me yelling that I'd not done what he'd asked me to do - I had to tell him what had happened.

I left the office and visited my brother at work. We watched one of the buildings collapse - can't remember which one.

I left and tried giving blood, but the lines were so long people were being turned away.

I went to my father's studio to watch the news more and learned that the other tower had collapsed.

I felt useless, so I purchased two disposable cameras and walked downtown. Yes, downtown.

People were still walking north away from the tragedy, covered in grey soot and in shock. They were zombies. Others were catching the news sharing car radios and gathering in stores (who had turned their window display models on the news and upped the volume). Mostly the city was deserted. Many of the photographs I took show people acting normal, like nothing had happened. The oddest thing I saw was a man in Union Square flying a miniature kite. I didn't get a great pic of him - he looks like he's just got his hands up in the air.

I walked all the way down to Canal St. where authorities had formed a barricade. I was scared to go further.

The months following the attack were strange. Trying to wrap our minds around the fact that the towers, two of the most prominent symbols of NY's skyline, were just gone, didn't make sense. I remember one night, while heading home shortly after the accident, I was riding the Jersey City Light Rail. The Light Rail is a trolley that runs along the waterline in Jersey City directly across the Hudson from Manhattan. There was one stop, Exchange Place, that, if you were sitting in the right spot, would give the perfect view of what we had come to call Ground Zero. This particular night, the LR came to Exchange Place and the doors opened to show me this view clearly for the first time. There was smoke coming from the hole which was lit brilliantly all around. The air from the Hudson river gusted into the car and brought with it the most horrendous stench I have ever smelled. Jersey smells bad. It's chemicals mostly, but this was fleshy. I'll never forget the ominous image I saw accompanied by that smell. Ground Zero burned for ages and bodies were being found for months. Sometimes the wind would blow uptown and we'd smell it all the way up to 23rd street (I would guess further north as well).

Miraculously, I only knew one person who had died in the accident, and he was only an acquaintance. I'm extremely lucky. Recently, I worked for a brief time for the architects who are rebuilding Tower 1 and am very proud of them. It's wonderful seeing the building slowly reclaim Manhattan's skyline. I can't wait until it's finished.