Joseph Robinson
Age 16
An eagle soared in the sky.
A haze of smoke covered the city. Like a cloud of evil omens, it emanated gloom and despair. Joe DiGiorio had awakened early that morning, anticipating a busy day at his office in downtown Manhattan. As he pulled out of the driveway in his Nissan 2000, his newly wed wife came rushing out of the house to give him one final embrace. As they parted, she whispered;
“I love you.”
Those simple words, containing such depth and sincerity would be sorely needed in the hours, which lay ahead. Finding himself strangely emotional, Joe pulled off with a last lingering kiss.
The Expressway was unusually clear, and he made record time. Strolling into his law firm, he found his secretary already on the job, with a cup of steaming coffee ready and waiting.
“Mornin’ Caroline.” he said. “Gee, what time did you leave the haystack this morning?” he laughed.
“’Bout half past five,” she replied.
“Boy, you need to learn to relax. Take a vacation, go to the Bahamas or something.” Joe chuckled, mentally telling himself the same thing. Caroline turned to him and somberly responded
“Joe, I’ve got two children and no one to take care of them, besides me. Don’t worry, I’ll get all the rest I need when I am dead.”
Joe shuddered at such a morbid thought.
“Then work hard, Caroline, work hard. May it be a long time before vacation comes.” He turned.
“Enough talk of death! What’s today’s date?”
“11th of September boss. 09-11.”
“Okay, so we’ve got the Escobedo brothers coming in today to file a compliant. Draw up their papers-have it ready by twelve. Okay?”
“Sure thing, sir.”
So saying, Joe went to his desk, and sprung into action. The day flew by, as did every day in the city. A few hours later, Joe looked at his watch. 8:58.
“I better go tell Caroline to start preparing the next case,” The mention of Caroline sent his thoughts back to her earlier remark. What did she mean-“I will get all the rest I need when I am dead?” Was she depressed, possibly suicidal? Joe shrugged the matter off, and tried to focus on the task ahead of him.
The more he concentrated his efforts, the more irritated he became. Something was wrong. Something, somewhere was drastically not right. Frustrated, he left his desk. He glanced at his watch again. 9:02
“Caroline!” He saw her sitting at her desk, hands busy typing up the report he had given her.
“Caroline, the Escobedo brothers will be here soon. Leave that report, and start the next case.” He paused,
“Caroline-about what you said earlier, what did you mean?”
“What, about vacation?” He nodded.
“I don’t know. It was just a thought, something that sprang into my mind. Life is so - ”, She broke off, her eyes widening with terror. Pointing speechlessly at something behind Joe’s back, she gasped in horror. Joe whirled around and wished he hadn’t. What met his eyes was horrific beyond his belief. He saw a plane, followed by an explosion of glass and steel. His office trembled under the impact.
Instinctively, Joe knew that this was not the end. There had to be more.
“Caroline! We’ve got to get out of the building!” he bellowed.
Caroline faced him, her eyes a mask of shock, of fear. She didn’t move.
“Caroline!” He slapped her. No response. Picking her up, he burst through the door, only to be faced with an armed security guard.
“Calm down sir. A plane crashed into the North Tower. Everything is under control. Return to your office,” the guard said. “We’re doing all that we can.”
“Sir,” Joe replied. “We are located in the building next to the North Tower. Isn’t it logical to assume that this building, its brother will be next? Let me through!”
The guard grasped his arm and whispered, “Listen man. This could be a terrorist attack. We’re not sure as to just what it is. If I let you go it could ignite a panic, causing the needless death of thousands. I can’t afford that! Everything is all right. Just stay calm.” So saying, the guard released him.
“Let’s get this young lady to the medical wing.” He took her, and proceeded to make his way through the milling crowd. Torn between concern for his secretary and thoughts of his own safety, Joe opted to seize his chance and make his way out of the building. He found that he was not alone. Hundreds thronged the stairs. He was on the 22nd floor of the tower, when the second plane struck.
Complete chaos reigned. The lights on the stairwell flickered, then went out, as electricity was lost. Groping blindly for the stair rail, Joe stumbled, tripped and fell as bodies ran, screamed, and begged for mercy. The passageway became completely congested as people from the higher floors joined those already fleeing. He felt himself being jostled and battered by the merciless crowd.
“O God, be merciful!” he screamed. Someone’s elbow slammed into his nose, and he felt spurts of blood begin to flow over his face. Too afraid to care, Joe shoved and forced his way through the multitude, seeking an exit sign, a door, anything.
Someone screamed as what appeared to be a piece of falling steel landed nearby. Joe collapsed when he realize that it was a human, its’ features too charred to be recognizable. Somehow finding the strength to push himself up, he forced his way through the building, which could easily become his tomb. Gazing ahead through bloodied eyes, he knew escape would be hopeless; for people were hindered by falling stairs, steel beams and glass.
Looking desperately around, his eyes fell upon an emergency exit, which he knew led through the underground sewers until it reentered the city, about two streets uptown. Seizing the only option available to him, Joe scrambled through the exit, and down the tunnel. He felt his feet slip, as he fell, deep underground.
He landed in a pile of liquid. Clutching at straws for survival, he groped through the darkness feeling his way forward, towards where he hoped light would be. As gross darkness completely enveloped him, he thought of his wife. The will to survive grew desperately within him, and he forced his way on.
Joe pressed the illuminator button on his watch. The time read 10:22 am. As he was tempted to lie down and succumb to the weariness within him, his eyes caught a glimmer of light ahead. Rising to his feet, he beheld the exit he so earnestly sought.
He emerged in the street, covered with blood and filth. As he stepped up, he narrowly escaped death again-this time from being trampled under the feet of those fleeing the city. Joe was shoved aside, or ignored completely, as people stopped their cars and fled on foot.
He looked up. A plume of smoke rose where the once proud and seemingly invincible towers had stood. Now whirlwinds of debris, glass and steel rained down upon the heads of the inhabitants. Fleeing for his life yet once again, he joined the masses in their escape of the city. Appearing as fugitives from the claws of death, their faces indiscernible, some scorched, some with crushed limbs, some void and destitute of any bodily features; they were submerged in despair, gloom and defeat.
He saw the second building fall-with it fell the glory it had once known.
“Caroline!” he screamed. Tears for his friend and co-worker mingled with blood that so marred his face. He turned, his heart rent with grief, and ran. And as he ran, he left behind him a mark, a symbol, which would be seared and impressed upon the hearts and mind of his nation. In his mind’s eye, he saw troops marching off to war. He saw bombs, death and destruction. His eyes beheld blood and fire. All this and he ran. For history continues its trend, its march towards eternity. A cloud of smoke covered New York City.
And overhead an eagle soared.