September 11, 2001
September 11, 2001 © Dan Callister
I got the call from the duty news editor who said that a small plane had hit the WTC and could I get down there? I quickly packed a camera and a couple of lenses into a small shoulder bag, hailed a cab. As we got closer to the WTC, the traffic had become gridlocked. I chose to get out of the taxi and jog south towards the WTC. People were running north, ashen faced. This was no small plane. In my mind, I was cursing the news editor. The towers were billowing smoke, the air was full of sirens, fire trucks were coming from all directions. I stopped to photograph the towers with an American flag in the foreground and then continued to head closer. The South Tower was there and then it was gone. I continued to get closer to the North Tower, debris was falling from above. They were people. I heard an un-earthly rumble, looked up and squeezed off a few frames as the North Tower started to mushroom. I back pedaled, trying to outrun the ensuing dust cloud. I can remember thinking is it pyroclastic, would it burn? It didn’t. The silence was broken by the shrill of firefighter alarms. That sound still haunts me today. As the cloud started to dissipate, I could see the charred remnants of fire trucks that had passed me earlier. If I had been a minute or so further south, I would probably not be here today.
For some it feels like an eternity and for others only yesterday. Please share a thought for the families of those who never came home and those fighting 9/11 related illnesses. Never forget.
