I was on the 64th floor of the North Tower. At the time, I worked for the Mayor's Office City of New York, I was an aviation consultant on contract representing the city in planning with the Port of Authority, their offices were on the 72nd floor and I had stopped by my office on the 64th to prepare for a morning meeting with the POA up on the 72nd. I was on the west side of the tower, in the hall way by the windows, looking out towards Kennedy airport, when something small moving towards me caught my eye, next thing I know its moving really fast and I could tell it was going to be over my head. Then everything changed. The ceiling came down, the building seemed to roll with the punch, I was on the floor covering my head. You ever look at all the crap they stuff into the spaces above a drop ceiling in a commercial building. I hit the stairwell and never looked back. When I hit the street, I crossed Broadway and moved down Gold Street towards a hospital annex that I knew would be needing as much help as they could get soon, I was a NJ EMT and had served as a Special Forces Combat medic in Viet Nam. I spent the next 24 hours washing out eyes and bandaging small wounds. When I finally got home I sat with my wife and cried like a baby. I lost many friends that day, more than I had lost in Viet Nam in 18 months of combat.
