NYPD Officer Shares His Story of 9/11 via MySpace
Quezinox sent in a link to a MySpace page of a former NYPD police officer recalling his experience on 9/11. The blog entry is future-dated, but according to the comments was probably initially posted in February of 2006. 'Craig 9/11' currently suffers from PTSD from his experiences at Ground Zero, and is a supporter of the 9/11 truth movement.
It is always a heart felt reminder to read these sorts of experiences from those that were actually there. This last 9/11 there were at least a dozen blog posts found via blogsearch.google.com which recounted first hand stories, and I read a good number of them. This particular blog entry is doubly intriguing to me as the author was directly involved with the initial response, and saw some things which we are all blessed with not having to have seen.
Here are a couple of sections from the full entry, if someone wants to post the full entry in the comments feel free.
Tour Change ~ A 9/11 Survivor's Story - Craig 9/11 MySpace blog
requires a myspace account to view full
(more after the jump..)
Having been assigned to the Transit Bureau in the NYPD, I have seen people cut in half by trains, people bleeding out from wounds, compound fractures caused by people just being in a hurry, and countless other morbid forms of human tragedy. You do not expect to see half of a smoking airplane engine on the ground, in front of the Burger King you eat at least once a week. I'm sorry, but nothing prepares you for that. Even worse, I did not expect to see the remains of what I believed was a little old woman, under half of an airplane engine, either. As I stared at the smear that was alive thirty seconds prior, I lifted the phone to my ear and remember wincing at the heat emanating off of the wreckage in front of me.
When I got to the corner of Vessy and Church, I remember seeing a tree on fire in the St. Pauls church, historic graveyard. I looked up and saw black smoke billowing out of every side of the north Tower. Gaping holes were impossibly high up on the buildings facade. My mind didn't want to believe what I was seeing. Metallic rain pounded the street all around me. Office paper floated slowly to the ground like so much snow. I started to cross the street. The thought, If I cross this street, I could die, screamed at me. Only one thing made me cross that street. I knew just about every Port Authority cop in that building. We ate together about three nights a week, because they had the best break room around. I saw the first body hit the ground as I crossed the street. It bounced, about two stories, and then landed again. I winced, and entered the building.
It is impossible to describe the noise that we heard next. It was deafening. The concourse mall doors, rumbled, then exploded open towards us, and a wind hit me so hard that I actually had to hold onto one of the blue I-beams supporting the station ceiling. Then, as quickly as it started, the saloon style mall doors swung closed. Stunned, I looked to the cop next to me, and began to say, "What the fuck wa..", but never finished my sentence. The mall doors imploded this time, and a stronger wind pulled me off my feet, and sucked me towards the concourse. I skipped like a stone off the white tile floor, through the doors, rolled up two short flights of steps, and came to rest, as I smashed into a cookie stores facade. Everything went black, and I thought about not calling my mother back, as I slipped into unconsciousness.
As I reached the street again, it was strangely quiet. The ash completely covered everything, even this far uptown. We looked at the car, and it was a wreck. The windshield was cracked, and two of the four side windows were smashed. One of us got a broom from a bar on the corner, and swept the glass and ash out of the interior, and off of the windshield. One of us asked where the other cars were. Our sergeant told us that two had not been accounted for, and one was crushed. We stared in horror, as he told us about one of our lieutenants and his driver, who were assigned to the crushed car. They were alive, but they had pulled up just outside the north tower, as the first plane struck the building. They were just going to get their morning coffee. As they exited the vehicle and closed the driver and passenger doors, a piece of debris as large as the car itself, landed on the roof and blew them about 10 feet away in either direction, away from the car. They were both all right, but in complete shock back at the district. As he finished the story, we all climbed in the one remaining car, and headed back downtown. I wiped off my watch, and noticed it was 1700 hours, and I wondered where my day had gone.
I hope you will check out his full story, and visit his other blog posts for more insights from someone who was actually there, and his thoughts on the 9/11 truth movement as a whole.