Remembering 9/11 - 8 years Later

Personal 9/11 experience of Alex Krivenyshev,
owner and developer of WorldTimeZone.com
(photos by Alexander Krivenyshev, WorldTimeZone.com)

Just like the millions of others who commuted to work on September 11, 2001, my day started out as a regular day. At that time I worked for a firm on Wall Street and had arrived to the office to begin reading the e-mail that had come in overnight. Shortly after arriving I received a sketchy e-mail from a co-worker that the World Trade Center was on fire, possibly hit by a small plane.

Like so many others in the financial district that day, I decided to leave the office and go up to the direction of the World Trade Center to see what was going on. As I was walking up Wall Street I heard the ear-piercing noise from a low-flying jet aircraft . . . and then it happened . . . the second plane collapsed into Tower Two with a huge explosion.

Against the human traffic running in my direction, I could see that the upper third of both Towers were fully engulfed in flames. I continued to move closer to the scene where I soon realized that there wasn't much I could do to help. It was then that I decided I wanted to capture the images of the history that I was witnessing.

I stopped at one of the corner newspaper stands and purchased a disposable camera. After I bought the camera I continued to walk the perimeter of the scene taking pictures when and where I could.

Just a few blocks south of the Tower, I stopped to take a picture. The enormity of the scene was not to be believed. What I witnessed in the view-finder of that disposable camera would forever change the world. As I watched in horror, waiting for the shutter to click, I would capture the shocking image of the erupting Tower in mid-collapse. That simple shutter click, took what felt like an eternity to come.

As the deadly hot cloud of ash ensued, I started to run with the mass of people away from the Tower. But where could I go? Due to ongoing construction in Battery Park, there were fence and barricade obstacles everywhere and we could only run so far in the south-western most corner of Manhattan before we would be in the New York Bay / Hudson River.

Running from the burning-hot cloud of ash and smoke I was certain that I was going to die. Ironically while all of this is happening, I was frustrated, almost angry at myself . . .
I could not remember what day it was, September 11th or September 12th? I wanted to be conscious of the date I was going to die. I kept running, kept moving until I made it to the riverfront and turned to look back.

No matter where I would go, in a few minutes I would be consumed by that cloud of ash, smoke, and burning jet fuel. The heat from the cloud began to burn the hair on our heads. People around me started to scream from lack of oxygen and choke from the heat and ash. While gasping for air, I myself had inhaled several large flakes of burning ash which burned my lungs. We covered our mouths and noses with anything that would provide some protection. I used the white polo shirt I had put on that morning for work. Day became night and the beautiful blue sky of that morning turned to black darkness.

After struggling to breathe for 30 to 40 minutes, the black cloud began to slowly dissipate and we knew (for the moment) we had survived. People started trying to use their cell phones, but few people could call out. Suddenly my cell phone rang . . . it was my friend and co-worker who had found my office cubical empty and was frantically searching for me. He asked, "Where in the hell are you?!"

"I am alive!" I replied. Not knowing even more was to come.

As I lost the phone connection, trying to figure out how to get out of the area, an eerie rumble and thunderous crash yet again echoed across the scene. In the crowd people started yelling, "Another plane, another plane!" However, as the next cloud of ash and smoke appeared, we knew it was not another plane, but the debris cloud from the second Tower collapse.

Moments before that second cloud would reach us, New York Waterways ferry boats began to evacuate the crowd, taking the frantic, ash-covered people away from Battery Park. As the ferry began to slowly pull away from the Manhattan coast, the second cloud of ash and smoke began to overtake us. During this crossing to the safety of the New Jersey riverfront, I witnessed the smoke plume from the collapse of the second Tower.

The Ferry dropped me many miles from my home. With no available transportation, covered in ash and soot, I began the walk home. During that 3-hour walk, I heard through car radios and televisions along the route that Washington D.C. and rural Pennsylvania were also involved.

Suddenly for the first time ever, I felt more unprotected and unsafe living here in this big country than I ever had in my native Siberia (Russia), where, as a boy, I had grown up. It was hard to believe.

A few hours later, I began to experience difficulty breathing and went to a medical evacuation center for the disaster. They provided one-way transportation to a local trauma hospital where I was treated for smoke inhalation and released.

The doctors that day never thought to look into the future and many of us in that cloud of heat and ash still suffer from complications from that day.

Several months after 9/11, like so many other firms, the Wall Street firm where I worked experienced difficulties resulting in my loss of a job. Like many others, finding affordable health insurance has been a challenge.

Months and years after that tragic day, I receive follow-up letters and phone calls from organizations who offer counseling and assistance.

When I asked these follow-up 9/11 callers for suggestions on reasonably priced health care and health insurance, nothing came. It appears that they are more interested in gathering statistics and metrics for beautiful charts than providing actual assistance and care.

Today I am fully dedicated to running WorldTimeZone.com.
I still have my ash-stained "lucky" polo shirt which saved my life that day. However, after several attempts to clean that shirt, I can no longer wear it as the soot from September 11, 2001 has never come out.
Ironically, I also have a copy of the hospital bill sent to me for my emergency treatment on that day too. Even after a crisis the magnitude of 9/11 we still have to pay.