Student essay on 9/11 photography, Oct 2001

NYC 9/11 Public Portal Document

Commemorative edition by the students of Stuyvesant High School

A Different World I saw a lot of people crying around me and on me, and I On Saturday, September 22, Laura Krug and Ben Magarik went to couldn't figure out how it helps ease any pain that they Stuyvesant to survey the scene. These are their stories. were having by crying. — Levon McMullen, sopho­ Stuy Reinvented A Glimmer of Hope more

Laura Krug Ben Magarik The first one I thought was an accident, the second I A poster hangs on the wall of the second- The train doors open at Franklin Street, and we thought was terrorists. When floor entrance hall, right off the bridge. It step out onto the platform. The first thing that hits us is I heard the Pentagon had announces, in bold black capital letters: the air. It’s sharp and piercing, and full of sour pain. We been done in too I thought I CLUB/PUB INTEREST MEETING 9/20. It’s a walk out to a deserted street, a Saturday morning ghost was gonna die. One kid typical sight in the halls of Stuyvesant—except tovm. In the distance, there’s fog, or is it smoke? walked into our class late and for the row of army cots set up on the floor Walking to the first checkpoint, we encounter jit- said that they were making a below it. tery policy officers guarding; the street. I’m not sure movie outside; we all laughed The Stuyvesant building has been trans­ who’s more nervous, us or thilem. They deny entrance, at the time because we had­ formed into a sanctuary for the rescue person­ telling us to go to the next block, where the story’s the same: keep walking. n't realized what had hap­ nel working at Ground Zero, according to mili­ tary police. And it shows. Almost every floor of We reach the BMCC park, where a man stands pened. the building has been affected in some way, near the checkpoint, furiously videotaping. For the first —Rene Kessler, sophomore from the lobby to the tenth floor. time, I see Stu^esant, and for some reason, a glimmer It wasn’t easy getting into the building in of hope strikes me. Here the officers radio their com­ Most people who experienced the first place. We were denied access by three mander and we’re told to walk back to the sergeant, a the atrocity on TV said they groups of police officers in rapid succession. I man in a white shirt. were terrified immediately. was ready to leave, but Ben wouldn’t give up. We He’s a tall, stem fellow, full of harsh assurance. However, from a first-person next tried West Street, where a friendly group of There’s no way the two of us are getting in. Looking for perspective, watching a officers stopped us and asked our business. “the command post” where we can get mayor’s passes, the two of us ramble around the BMCC area, being World Trade Center tower After a whole lot of kibbitzing, and showing them every piece of identification in our wal­ turned away by more cops. Laura despairs, she’s sick of collapse from the Sth floor, I lets, they allowed us to pass. I’ll never forget walking around, she wants to go to work. I insistently can honestly say 1 was not in what one of the officers told me before we left question her about her job, all the time leading us the least bit afraid. It was a them. toward West Street. We finally reach some sheriffs from feeling of great excitement “Smile!” he said, laughing at my serious Suffolk County, and I talk to the first genuinely friendly instead, as if it was Die Hard face. “It’s going to be a beautiful day.” person in Lower Manhattan. He smiles and points to a 4- or Godzilla 2 or something. ■ It was comforting to know that despite the group of cops milling on the corner. Taking out our I was just thinking of how tension that rides the dust clouds all over Lower school I.D. cards, we walk up to them, and the negotia­ insane it was, not how many Manhattan, some people have retained humor tion begins. enough to cheer up those who might be unhap­ I introduce myself in a firm, steady voice—in stark thousands of people were py. I silently wished him every good thing I contrast to the timid, scared tone I’d used earlier. We dying as I was watching. could think of as we walked away. show them the cards, and they note, in somber jest, —Paul Banec, freshman After talking our way through at least five that they could be fake. I take out my wallet, handing other checkpoints, surer each time that we over my program, Jewish Theological Seminary I.D., I got uptown, and I was try­ would never get throu^, we find ourselves in Ultimate frisbee membership card, video rental pass, ing to find a way to get ! the first-floor lobby of the school. Sensory over­ and my student MetroCard. I pass them over swiftly downtown, because I was load rushes over me as I survey the building and with phony confidence. Suddenly, the key turns in thinking, T need to get to i where I’ve gone to school for more than three the lock, and the officers start laughing. They give us work! I'll miss my classes!' '1 years. Right away, I notice the loud, insistent our cards back, saying it’s all right, we can go in. Stay to barking of a dog, the strange mustiness of the the left as long as possible, there’s heavy machine^ on That's all 1 was thinking. Then air, and the crates stacked in piles—far taller the right. I look back at the chuckling officers, noticing I sat down and listened to the than I am—leaning against the lockers past the one in particular. As we walk away, Im hoping he lives news. At that point I security desk. for another hundred years. thought, "Okay, something's I notice, as we run up the stairs to the sec­ We’re in. wrong. Forget about going to ond floor, that the steps are half-covered with After walking on the left side of the highway along­ work; worry about what's dust. The custodial staff will have a fit, I think, side emergency vehicles, buses and barricades, we going on here. Worry about as we race toward the even-floor escalators. have to climb over flowerbeds to cross the street. My finding your family, worry The fourth floor is littered with boxes, but heart is pounding. There are soldiers at a command about getting home. I never the strangest thing is the yards and yards of post on our left, heavily armed cops on our right, and electric wires, draped like cobwebs from outlets everywhere, construction workers. And at the comer of made it downtown. J to lights, taped to walls, floors and columns. Chambers and West, yet another officer, after yet —Jennie Chan, English Generator power, I conclude silently. We also another explanation, smiles and lets us through. We teacher notice that the elevator banks are festooned thankfully tell him to have a nice day. with signs reading “Hot Food 2nd Floor,” Into the school we walk, triumphantly holding our My mom, who works on “Bedding 3rd Floor” and “Showers Sth Floor.” I.D. cards high, through the forbidden front entrance. Canal Street, had gotten an The sixth floor is dead silent. I’ve never As we enter, there’s a crowd of cops, rescue workers, urgent call from my dad seen or heard it that way before. and National Guardsmen milling around. They don’t telling her that one of the I Finally, panting, we run into a teacher out­ look at us, and we don’t look at them. ‘i’ World Trade Center buildings side her classroom. She’s shocked to see us, and It’s a different world down here. You breathe differ­ asks how we managed to get in. We don’t really ent air, the people move differently, and everywhere had been accidentally hit by a know. there is a quiet sense of urgency. Round here, there’s no small plane.... Her first We collapse into chairs inside the room time for politics, despair, or flag-waving. As we walk thoughts were immediately and start commenting on the things we’ve seen. away from the school, I see the site—the twisted skele­ of me. She ran down to Stuy She says the first thing she’d noticed was a pile ton of a dead animal, a giant whale. We hike through in under four minutes flat the empty streets, carrying philosophy textbooks. —Manny Bierman, freshman continued on page 21

The Spectator . Fall 2001 9

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