"An airplane has hit the World Trade
Center".
We were on 53rd street getting ready to shoot an interview
when we heard the first radio reports.
Leaving the truck in midtown, we caught a downtown subway
and arrived at City Hall minutes before the first tower
collapsed. Kevin Trainor and I worked our way toward what
would become known as "ground zero", photographing
stunned survivors and the very beginning of the heroic
effort of New York City shaking off the dust and struggling
back to its feet.
Half an hour later, about three blocks from the where
the towers stood we felt the unmistakable rumble and ran
through the avalanche of debris as the second tower fell.
We took shelter in an electronics store with survivors
and firefighters, waiting for the dust and debris to clear
enough to breathe.
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Hours later a river breeze
over West Street parted the smoke and dust revealing for
the first time the magnitude of the disaster.
As stunned rescuers began the search it was a struggle
to pick up the camera and turn it on that grief. We stumbled
through the days that followed, and I realized that our
way of honoring the memory of the victims and the efforts
of the rescuers was to keep a clear eye and document the
truth to the best of our ability. |
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