Erik had left for work about 20 blocks away and I remember there was a Baby Einstein VHS playing when the phone rang.
"A plane just crashed into the World Trade Center." she said.
I clicked over to NBC.
It was impossible to make an outgoing call.
We'd only moved into our apartment 11 days before. I didn't know what to do. I turned on local news radio. The announcer barked the warning that we were under attack and urging people to stock up on supplies.
I took my baby and walked across the street to the grocery store. The shelves were bare. There was no water. No diapers. I remember staring at the empty shelves and the crowded store and the panic and fear on everyones faces.
One block away a fire station stood empty, the whole crew answering the call. I remember watching the buildings burn and wondering how they would ever put that fire out.
We lived adjacent to American Red Cross headquarters. Almost instantly, the building sprung to life including a line of blood donors snaking all they way around the block. Emergency teams prepped for victims.
The Episcopal church on the corner handed out free bottles of water and I remember seeing a business man walking down the street with his jacket on his arm, briefcase in his hand and his entire face black with soot.
Later the Red Cross used megaphones to urge people to go home. They said they would make an announcement if they needed volunteers. As hospitals, doctors and nurses stood ready to treat the injured that never came.
Friends came over. I remember Stef, Ro and Lori. We all worked in advertising. We sat together in my living room watching the news for hours barely speaking. They replayed the clips over and over and the whole time we watched, I remember there was never a single commercial interruption.