I assume you've put on the news and heard about the World Trade Center.

Our building now has limited access (closed the loading dock, etc.) and they're searching stairwells and closets, etc.

All NYC airports are closed. All the subways are closed. All bridges and tunnels coming into the city are closed.

I am fine -- far away from the World Trade Center. They've searched our building's stairwells and closets, and limited access, etc.

I love you lots.

Just wanted to let you know that I am fine. My office is nowhere near the World Trade Center. Our building is under restricted access (closed the loading dock, etc) and they've searched the stairwells and the closets.

My brother e-mailed that he tried for an hour to call me and couldn't get through, so I'm just letting people know.

For those who know them -- I spoke to Ona, she's fine and is not flying to Zimbabwe tomorrow (she was supposed to be there for 10 days). We haven't heard from Daniel yet but we assume he's fine, as he works nowhere near the Pentagon.

I've been on the phone all morning, this is so terribly frightening.

they're letting people who live in the city leave. I'm going to head home within the next little while, and I'll be walking since the subways are closed. It'll take a while...I don't have my cell phone with me so I will e-mail you when I get home.

[[I've invited a couple of people who live alone over, and if you're reading this and feel like you could use the company, give me a call.]]

I could definitely use the company, but cell phone service is virtually nil and the phone lines are pretty flaky right now. So e-mail it is, for me.

My sister called my parents to see if I was okay, my brother spent an hour trying to call but couldn't get through. My old roommate Alyssa -- part of the blocking group I've hardly spoken to since graduation -- e-mailed me, "Are you okay???" And when I wrote my entire blocking group to say that I was, my other roommate Carrie wrote me back. One of my best friends from high school, who's married and Orthodox and who I speak to maybe twice a year now, searched on the web and somehow found my work phone number. Mike Brauwerman wrote me. I tried to e-mail everyone I could think of who might be worried, or at least a couple of people from each of my groups of friends who could spread the word, and still worried e-mails trickled in. Willard Kasoff called me and told me that Jess Hammer is fine (she's at NYU), and that my blockmate Chris works at the World Trade Center but was out of town today. I called Beth, my best friend from high school, from work to say that I was fine, and she said, "huh?" I suggested she might want to turn on the news...She said she was really glad to have heard from me first that I was fine, because otherwise she would have absolutely freaked out.

My building went to limited access, then sent home everyone who lives in the city. It took an hour to walk home, the city's crazy crowded since all the subways, etc. are closed. Outside my office, you could smell smoke in the air...and that's a few miles from the Trade Center.

This is surreal. From my office, you can't see that far downtown, so all I've seen is the pictures on TV. It's hard to believe that this is all happening in the city where I live, just a few blocks away from me.

Is it wrong for me to say "Thank G-d" that I'm not aware of knowing anyone who's missing? Everyone who's buried under that rubble is somebody's son or daughter, and each one has family and friends who are desperately hoping against hope right now, crying and wringing their hands, trying to make sense of this tragedy that is truly senseless. How can I thank G-d that my friends are fine, when so many other people's friends are dead or dying or trapped or at the very least, bruised, bleeding, and broken?

In response to your blog...I very vaguely remember the Challenger. I remember the day we declared war in the Persian Gulf. I definitely remember Rabin's assassination. But this -- this feels like one of those dividing lines in a lifetime: before the terror, and after the terror. My G-d, how can we live in a world where people do this? How can some people value human life so little that they can perpetrate these acts? How can this be?? I guess now I'm trying to make sense of the senseless. This is beyond comprehension.

This has been one of the longest days of my life. I spent most of the morning at work calling and e-mailing people to tell them I was alive and to ascertain that they were, too. My company, like most others in Manhattan, sent home everybody who lives in the city north of 14th Street who could make it home. At 12.45, I left work with my friend Ilan, who lives a few blocks from me. Outside my office, you could smell smoke in the air...and that's a few miles from the World Trade Center.

Together we trudged home - two and a half miles. The streets and sidewalks were filled with people, all in business clothes, carrying briefcases. Central Park West -- which is usually relatively quiet, as NYC streets go -- was as crowded as Times Square. We could hear bits of people's conversations: the mother who waited for an hour and a half at her children's school, since they dismissed grades one by one every half-hour; people whose cell phones actually worked describing the situation to friends; and more variations on "Oh, my G-d" and "I don't believe this" than I've ever heard in my life. It took an hour to get home.

This is surreal. From my office, you can't see that far downtown, so I've only seen pictures on TV and on the web...which makes it hard to believe that this is all happening in the city where I live, just a subway ride away from me.

Like most of the country, I turned on the news as soon as I walked in the door. TBS was broadcasting CNN, very convenient for those of us who don't have cable. I remember during the Gulf War when we all sat around and did nothing but watch CNN. But I don't remember being glued to the screen in horror then. Maybe I was, but the memory has faded; or maybe it was less horrific because I didn't personally know anyone who was anywhere near the front lines, and although the Iraqis were bombing a country I knew and loved, it was still halfway around the world.

Today I spent the day mostly in shocked silence, trying to comprehend what I was seeing.

My friend Dave at work has an ex-girlfriend and friends from high school who work together at Morgan Stanley in the World Trade Center. His ex called him to say that they'd been evacuated -- they'd left everything (purses, cellphones, you name it) behind, but they'd all gotten out safely.

Georgia searched the web and somehow found my phone number at work. My roommate Alyssa from college e-mailed to ask if I was okay. A friend from school I haven't heard from in almost a year called to check in; he told me that my blockmate Chris works at the WTC but was out of town and therefore fine. I e-mailed the Cohens, Bowers, Sara, and Jill that I was fine and got a teafully relieved response from Sara; a message from the Cohens that Jackie was also fine though shaken, as she works 25 blocks from the WTC and had watched the towers fall; a message from the Bowers saying that they were praying as they awaited word from a good friend who works at the WTC; and a message from Jill that she'd called Aunt Pam to see if she'd heard anything about me.

The Harvard-99 e-mail list has been flooded with messages about where to go to give blood, where to make donations, etc., and someone established herself as the point person for the "I'm alive" list. So she's sending periodic updates with the names of people in NY, DC, and Pittsburgh who are fine.

So far I haven't heard personally of anyone who's missing. I'm sure I will, though. At this point, I hardly know what to pray. How can I ask G-d to make sure that nobody I know is hurt or dying, so that only _other_ people have to mourn? Is it wrong for me to say "Thank G-d" that I'm not aware of knowing anyone who's missing? Everyone who's buried under that rubble is somebody's son or daughter, and each one has family and friends who are desperately hoping against hope right now, crying and wringing their hands, trying to make sense of this tragedy that is truly senseless. How can I thank G-d that my friends are fine, when so many other people's friends are dead or dying or trapped or at the very least, bruised, bleeding, and broken?

My cell phone had virtually no service today. And my regular phone kept losing its dialtone. I went online as often as I could, realizing just how out-of-touch I'd be if my phone cut out for good. And a little after 10 o'clock, out of sheer exhaustion (it's hard work to be that scared for that long) I fell asleep. And at 3 I woke up, having gotten my nightly 5 hours, hence this e mail.

My office is closed tomorrow. People who live outside the city (or downtown, I guess) stayed at work. They made our cafeteria free and assured everyone that there was sufficient food for all of Tuesday and at least through Wednesday breakfast and possibly lunch. People who live in Manhattan offered to let others stay with them. I don't know if people got home eventually once the outbound bridges and tunnels were re-opened.

The city is like a ghost town tonight. "The city that never sleeps" is silent outside my window, and on TV they're saying that even in Midtown where the streets are open, there's not a soul stirring. It's been 19 hours since this impossibly unbelievable nightmare began.

So...that's my story. I love you all so much and I miss you terribly.

I feel like you two are probably the ones who best understand how I feel right now...I was near enough to the attacks that friends and family across the country were worried, but far enough that I haven't seen anything first-hand, so it's still hard to believe that this is all happening in the city where I live, just a subway ride away from me.

I got to the blood center (well, the gym of Martin Luther King, Jr. High School which is across the street from the Red Cross at 67th and Amsterdam) at 7.45; there were people who'd been there since 6. After a long while of waiting, they asked people who'd lived in England for more than 6 months to leave; then they asked people who'd gotten a tattoo or a piercing in the last year to leave; then they said that for today they only wanted people with any O-type or any negative type to stay. (I'm O+.) At 11 I lay down on the chair/bed and at 11.45 I was out the door. They made me lie down on the chair for about ten extra minutes with my head flat and my feet up, because they thought I looked light-headed. (My head looks light?) I met a couple of nice people and we exchanged "where-I-was-when-I-heard" stories, and I tried to do a little studying.

Around the time I arrived, there were a lot of people there. I'm terrible at estimating, but there were enough to fill bleachers along one wall of the gym with people sitting on the floor as well. Then after they weeded out people, there were enough to loosely fill the bleachers. When I left, the gym was pretty much full. Then there was the line of people that couldn't get into the gym yet. It stretched out the door, around the hall, up the stairs, out the door, down the block. Incredible. It makes you take heart...Some photographer took my picture while I was giving blood, so conceivably I could end up in some paper tomorrow, but I'm sure they took lots of people's pictures and I don't know what paper he's from.

The city is still quiet. When I was walking to the subway and then back to my apartment, there were people out - mostly looking lost, because most businesses were closed and nobody really knew what to do - and there were cars, but there were no horns honking, no loud cell-phone conversations, nobody talking loudly to their friends as they walked. It was just...quiet. eerie, almost. I didn't pass a newspaper vendor on my way to the blood place, and when I stopped by one on my way back they were sold out of the Times. Ah, well. I know more-or-less what it says, anyway.

I remembered just after e-mailing you all that Jamie Hammel lives in the West Village so I e-mailed him; he wrote back that he's fine.

Someone from my shul called last night to verify that I was okay. They're calling everyone on the membership list.

I will probably call you tonight because I'm getting really desperate to talk to people; I've spent 23 of the last 27 hours in my apartment, by myself.

Manhattan public schools (above 14th St) are open tomorrow with a 2-hour delay. I think that may be the first time in my life I've heard of schools on delay for a non-weather-related reason. My office is open tomorrow.

Someone posted to the Harvard99 list that based on a search of the post.harvard database (which of course does not include all alumni, and not all alumni who are included put in their business addresses) shows that nobody from Class of '99 or '00 listed the World Trade Center as their business address.

Tomorrow work resumes, and I suppose I must try to resume some vague sense of normalcy. But the *skyline* has changed. How can anything be normal?

This is the only time since I moved uptown that I've had any regrets about living alone...

I can't imagine being a parent right now. How do you explain to a child about this? I can't even begin to imagine. It still feels somewhat unreal to me. At some point I'm going to have to go up on my friend's roof from which you used to be able to see the Twin Towers, or else go downtown myself when they finally open it up again. I don't think it'll fully sink in and seem true until I see for myself, in person, that the world's most famous skyline has been terribly distorted.

thanks for your message. I'm glad to hear that you and yours are all fine. I am, too. G-d bless.

Today seems to be one of those "first day of the rest of your life" days. It's the first day since what the MTA is calling "the incident" (when they explain the subway changes) that I put on makeup. I couldn't quite conceal the shadows under my eyes, but I figure I'll blend right in with the rest of the city. On this day after the day after, the city is beginning to stir and come back to life. It's still somewhat quiet, and people are being much more courteous on the sidewalks and on the subway. And the city has lost much of its hurried pace -- nobody's in a rush today. The subways were much closer to full, though not quite as full as usual, and there were sounds again on the street. I never thought I'd be relieved to hear someone honking his horn, but it's one more sign of normalcy.

There is/was apparently a fire at the McGraw-Hill building next door to my office building, but it seems to be (have been?) small so nobody here is terribly worried. I've heard rumours of other buildings along Sixth Ave being evacuated (I'm at 1290, someone said that 1221 was evacuated) but we don't know anything for sure. Nobody here is getting terribly much done; there is a lot of talking at people's cubicles or in the pantries. You try to do a little work to get your mind off things, but your mind won't go very far, and then an hour's gone by and all you've done is add one line to a spreadsheet.

Jeremy Glick -- whom you've heard of, because he called his wife from the plane bound for San Francisco and told his wife that the plane had been hijacked; she told him about the WTC and he and some others decided to take down the hijackers and lose their lives in the process -- was a coworker of Deb's. I just found that out from Erica this afternoon. Deb was in Philadelphia at a client's on Tuesday, and she is either still there or in New Jersey comforting another coworker. This is the first direct link I have to anyone who died on Tuesday.

How awful.

Last night, Eric and I went to CVS and bought $72-worth of bandage rolls, gauze, non-stick pads, band-aids, antibiotic ointment, hydrogen peroxide, etc., and dropped it off at a collection site at 96th and Broadway. Then we went out for dinner, because both of us felt the need to get out of our apartments.

Still wearing red white and blue.

Thank goodness. What a story...you're the first person I actually know who was right there. I have a friend who works at the WTC but was out of town, another who works right nearby but decided to work from home on Tuesday, etc. And I just found out that Jeremy Glick was a coworker of a good friend of mine. I hope that you've been able to reach other people from your work, etc.

be well and G-d bless.

While getting out of NYC probably would be healthy, I've sort of realized that I'll have a better chance of getting through this emotionally if I stay here and force myself to keep confronting what's happened. I'd like to volunteer somewhere this weekend, if I'm needed anywhere. Last night a friend and I bought about $75 worth of bandages, gauze pads, etc. at CVS and donated them. But giving money - while necessary - doesn't really make me feel like I've *done* anything, which is why I'd desperately like to volunteer.

I am still somewhat shell-shocked but gradually coming out of the daze I've been in for the last three days. And now that I'm able to start thinking more clearly, I do want to spend some time figuring out just what I think and feel about all these events. It's been just too devastating to try to comprehend so far, but I think I'm about ready to face it...

All of my friends are safe and accounted for. But I know at least one person who's lost someone. And I feel emotionally bruised, spiritually battered, psychologically broken.

I'll probably still sit for Course 8. But if I don't pass, I'll be a lot more forgiving of myself. I'm realizing how little it matters in the grand scheme if I get my FSA in '02 or '03 or '05...and how very much it matters if I say "I love you" today rather than tomorrow.

I've gotten a couple updates from my shul. Apparently the JTS server that was used for our list-serv went through the World Trade Center so they're trying to recreate the list now.

All the shuls around here have police patrolling now, but because the police force is stretched so thin since so many of them are down at Ground Zero, they can't increase the level of patrolling. So my shul (and, I presume, most others as well) has hired a security company for extra patrolling for the High Holidays. They've told us that nobody will be admitted for High Holidays without a ticket. And tomorrow night we're having a special Se'udah Shlishit and Havdalah.

Shabbat Shalom, and may it really be a Shabbat of Peace.