I was coming over the bridge and I saw that one of the Twin Towers was on fire. I was looking at it in disbelief when I saw the second one suddenly explode into flames. Having lived in Israel, my nerves are on edge for terrorism, and I immediately burst into tears. I stopped to stare in disbelief, and a Hasid who was also looking on turned to me and said, "Bomb." A Hispanic kid who was looking with us said, "You think?" I biked crying to the office. The street was strewn with contracts, papers, glass, shoes and eye-glasses. People were pointing, incredulous, like spectators at a circus. Glass was flying and carried by the wind, glinted very prettily.

I went up to my office and called my dad to say I was okay. I was alone in the building. Suddenly there was a horrible rumbling and I understood one of the Twin Towers was coming down. I looked out the window, I am on the seventh floor, and saw the people, thousands of people in the street below, Broadway, running, obviously for their lives. I cried to my dad, "The Tower is coming down." And then the electricity went out. I told my dad I have to run for my life. He screamed, "Go!" I slammed down the phone and tried to get out of the building as fast as I could. By the time I got into the foyer of our building, you could not see or breathe. There was hysteria. Go outside? Stay in? Run for the basement? But desperate for air, you started to go wherever you thought there might be air. We all thought we were going to choke to death. I ran outside. But you couldn't see three inches. You could hardly keep your eyes open. And I didn't know where I was going. For all I knew I was running towards the Towers. I started running for the water, thinking if I couldn't get out of downtown, I'd jump into the river.

Suddenly there was a second rumbling, and I understood that the second building was coming down. Everyone started screaming, you could hardly see them, but it was like out of the silliest B-movies, where New York City is taken down. And then there was the soot: I could not keep my eyes open, and so I just huddled, hoping it would not come down on me. It took me two hours to find my way out of the financial district. I almost walked over the Brooklyn Bridge, but then I thought that it would be a prime target, so I just kept walking uptown. I can't remember when I could start to see again, but I think it was near the Manhattan Bridge, when somebody gave me some water.

--Jessamyn Hope, writer