Sometimes an on/off switch would sure come in handy.

Being the intrepid sleeper that I am, not to mention a world class snorer, I was snoozing comfortably in my bed in Oneonta, an upstate NY college town, when the constant ringing of the phone outside my bedroom door irritated me into consciousness, again. The phone rang every too often for a good 40 minutes. I would hear the ringing, curse under my breath and cuddle myself back into sleep. Sometimes, the ringing would just invade my dreams and I remembered even in those moments, I looked around at some distant racket and wondered who the hell was calling me in my dreams. Whoever it was, wasn't getting me out of my warm woolen blankets for the world.

At about 9:45 a.m. I came to the realization that if somebody was calling that many times in such a short period, maybe it was worth getting my ass out of bed and answering the damn thing. I gave in. We had an answering machine and yet they weren't leaving any messages. Someone knew I might be home and was trying to get my attention.

I was the only one home. My roommate Dan was in class. Well, Floey was there. Floey is Dan's cat. Once I tied an empty 2 liter bottle of soda to his tail with a piece of yarn and he almost hyperventilated and died on me in the living room. That happened one night when Dan went out to the Black Oak Bar(but thats a tale for another post). Floey was useless at answering phones, but he was a classy feline all and all. Once again Floey, i apologize for almost killing you, my bad.

I was suppose to be in a 9:00 a.m. class that morning but I decided the night before I'd skip that class and get a little bit of the drink in me. Actually, I was in the transitional stage of getting out of one Spanish course and into another and the one I was 86ing was that morning, so it didn't matter whether I was there or not. By that Thursday, the 13th, I'd be in a higher level course starting fresh.

The night before, a friend of mine named Chris had been over. We drank some beers and whiskey and talked on all sorts of topics, as we usually did. One conversation I distinctly remember was about the fragility of society. As an example, Chris asked me what I thought would happen to NYC if all the ways out of the city were cut off, as well as the food and water supplies. What would happen to NYC then? How would New Yorkers behave? How long would it take before shit hit the fan? We agreed that within a few days, two weeks tops, the city would begin to revert back to chaotic ways, due to the stress of losing our basic needs. Our conclusions, which aren't genius or revolutionary by any means, were that civilization is only a few days away from being far from civil.

As the very early morning approached, Chris went to check on his old German shepherd Max who was outside the door. It turned out that Max had wandered off so we went around looking for Max, all over Oneonta, but with no luck. I needed to get 'some ' sleep, since I did have class later that day and I didn't want to miss that one. Leaving Chris to search for Max, I went to bed.

After only 3 hours or so of sleep, when I finally picked up the phone, I wasn't the most pleasant of people. I was cranky and still a little buzzed. In a pissy tone I said "YEAHHHH, WHAT DO YOU WANT?"

It was Nitz. Well her birth name is Mary, but Nitz is just what I call her. Mary was one of the Oneonta buddies that Dan introduced me to. We got along real well and us both being wise asses from Queens helped out our comradeship.

Immediately, she began rattling out news of that mornings events. She frantically told me to turn on the TV and about how the WTC was on fire, two planes had crashed, NYC is about to be destroyed, the Pentagon has been attacked.

'Mikey, we're under attack, you gotta turn on the TV, the World Trade Center is on fire, both buildings are burning, oh my god, Mikey, oh my god..."

I believed her as soon as I heard her. The tone in her voice was impossible to fake. I snapped out of my attitude and my drowsy stupor and ran to the living room, the phone still in my hand.

"Mary, relax, whats going on, what happened?"
"Just put on the TV, its everywhere, its all happening now." I got to the living room and as I stood there in front of the entertainment center, I remembered that Dan and I had not yet gotten our cable hooked up. It was only a week and a half since we'd moved into the second floor apartment on 14 1/2 Columbia Street and we were in no rush to get the cable hooked up. We had really enjoyed sitting around in our living room or out on the enclosed balcony, just reading, talking over a joint or two and listening from time to time to the radio.

The radio, thats it, I'll turn on the radio. "Mary, our cable isn't hooked up yet, but I'll try the radio."

"Just come over Mikey, get over here now, you gotta get over here and see this, oh my God Mikey, this is it, this is fucked up. THE TOWERS are on FIRE. i can't fucking believe it."

"Okay, okay, I'll be right there".

I stopped wasting time on the radio dials and threw on some pants, a T-shirt and a hoody sweater. I was in the car within a minute and rushed over to Mary and Scotty's place.

Scotty is another friend from my Oneonta crew. He was Mary's roommate and so was Scotty's Australian cattle dog, a red heeler named Digs. I raced cross town, which is no monumental feat considering the size of Oneonta, but between the two colleges in the town, SUNY Oneonta and the private school, Hartwick College, there are at least 7500 students and another 13,000 or so in the tiny community. So at 9:50 a.m., it isn't outrageous that a bit of traffic occurs, but on this morning I dipped and dodged it all, getting to Mary's in a record 5 minutes time. Of course, I was especially motivated by the information that I was getting on the radio as I went.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck", were just about the only words I could get out. I felt for a second like I was still dreaming. There was no way that this scenario was 'real'.

In those 5 minutes I started to register the information from the radio in my car as effecting real people. Real people there at the center of the disaster. I began to consider the plight and situation of my family. I don't know why I didn't think of it immediately.

My father, I thought, would be home in Queens, unless he had one of his Stamp conventions to go to, then he would be somewhere in midtown, near the West Side Highway. My mother would be in work, at the health care agency she worked for right up off 6th street, Avenue of Americas, on Christopher Street I believe, in Greenwich Village.

My brothers; who knew where they'd be? I honestly didn't exactly even know where they worked in those days but I did know it was downtown, not far from the World Trade Center, over in the Wall Street district. My sister-in-law Anna, I thought she worked up near or in the FlatIron Building, so I figured she would be far enough away to be safe.

But really, I didn't think anyone there was safe at all. How could they be.
At that realization I began to really panic. I felt an uneasiness overcome my body and my train of thought. If this was the end of things, my entire family could be wiped out in one day.

As I pulled into Mary's driveway and put the car in park, I noticed my hands trembling. My breathing had quickened and become a bit erratic. I stared up at Mary's porch and I saw her come to the door. We looked at each other for a split second; it was the look that let each other know that we were scared, seriously. I broke the gaze and got out of the car.

"Mikey", she said, her voice graver than it had been on the phone or maybe now that I could see her frightened eyes and paling face, everything seemed that much graver than before. I ran up to the porch and she moved backwards into the apartment, keeping the door open just long enough for me to catch it and get inside behind her.

"Mikey, holy shit, look at this shit Mikey. We're under fucking attack Mikey", Scotty said to me as he jumped off the couch and came to me, pointing at the TV and making me look as well. Scotty was always fidgety, ever since I've known him, like a kid who can't sit still in a classroom. Now, he was at his most agitated state. " I can't fucking believe this shit, thousands of people gotta be dead, how many people do you think Mary, how many fucking people are dead?" I stood there staring at the replay of the planes hitting, fireballs and debris floating into the skyline below. I lit a cigarette I had in my hand the entire drive over. I had been too focused on driving to get the lighter from out of my pocket. I began furiously puffing away, Scotty joined me.

"I can't believe I've been asleep for all this", I said, feeling weird as I said it, as though I was missing out on something everyone would be talking about. Those who were awake when it all went down would be in the know and I'd be out of the loop, an hour and change behind. I immediately shook that sensation off and asked Mary if she'd heard from anyone else. She jumped off of the couch and went to the phone, "I've been trying to call my mom but nothing is going through." She tried again, "still busy". I asked her if I could make a call to my home in Queens. I tried over and over and I couldn't get through.

I hung up the phone and focused again on the TV, the three of us ensnared in the events and I don't remember who was saying what but I had only been in Mary's place for a total of 5 or so minutes when the first tower began to collapse.

Mary started screaming, Scotty as well. A barrage of cussing and "Oh My God's" filled the room. I added a few myself as I went down to my knees and watched the Tower crumble onto itself.
I covered my mouth with both hands and just went silent. The island of Manhattan started to disappear into a cloud of smoke.

"Oh man, no fucking way, no fucking way," Scotty stood there, finally still, for a moment, as the scene on the screen was played over and over from several different angles. The voices of the newscasters mirroring our own disbelief. Then Scotty began to bounce up and down in place, saying over and over again "no fucking way, no fucking way."

"30,000, maybe 50,000 people. Oh my god, holy shit..." Scotty began calculating death tolls and freaking out. Mary remained silent and her eyes left the screen just long enough to catch my gaze. We stared at each other, quietly, without anything to say, as though someone just punched the wind out of both of us.

10:00 a.m. --"Everyone is dead, holy shit", I said to myself, "everyone is dead"

I don't remember what was said in the next 28 minutes, much of the same from before. Multiple attempts to call our families. A variety of theories, mostly coming from Scotty, about who could have been responsible for this. "We're going to war now, we're definitely going to war over this", said Scotty every few minutes.

Then some guy who lived next door to Mary and Scotty came over, Ed I think his name was. That douchebag ended up owing me 90 bucks later on in the winter he never paid me back. I still might pop him one if I see him again, crack head that he became. He seemed far calmer then we were. We asked him if he was watching the TV and he said he had been and stated how fucked up he thought it all was.

He bummed a cigarette and asked if Mary had any coffee going. I don't remember if she did or not. I was a little bit annoyed at his nonchalance about the situation. He was the first person that day that i bumped into who didn't seem at all frazzled by the events of that morning at either the Pentagon, Pennsylvania or New York City. I'll relay some of those reactions which fueled a strong anger in me, most of which I contained but some of which I let out in the form of vehement commentary to the peoples who I thought needed to be shaken from their ambivalence toward the situation.

10:25: I remember those few minutes before the second tower fell talking about what they were going to do if the second tower fell. we were all in awe at the manner in which the first tower fell. It didn't do it like the movies say it would. it just fell upon itself. Why hadn't it 'timberrrrreeeddd' like trees do in the woods. Scotty kept bringing up his estimated death tolls and in moments, bang 10:28.

The second tower started to crumble and as I watched I began to sway a bit like a palm tree to an evening tropical breeze. I leaned against the arm of the couch and repeated as its destruction came closer to completion, "There it goes, there is goes, oh wow. There it goes". What else was there to say. Everyone was stunned. My eyes tired, my shoulders slumped, my breathing became stressed again and I sat down. Mary sat down. Scotty sat down. Even Ed, suddenly became overwhelmed by the site of the missing towers through the growing cloud of dust.

I don't remember much more after that. I did get in contact with my father around 11:00 or 11:30 a.m and he told me that he had spoken to my brother who had gotten back to Brooklyn but who was still out of contact with his wife Anna. My older brother had went to my mother's work in Greenwich village and the two of them were at the moment safe.

Everyone, so far, was alright. Of course, my biggest fears were tamed, but were more attacks imminent? Was NYC going to burn or was it stricken with chemical agents? I knew where my family was, Anna aside, but was the danger over? My father was calm with me, but I felt that he was being extra calm to not get me any more excited than I was. His reserve and strength kept me from utterly flipping out and getting into my car to begin driving down to NYC, regardless of roadblocks and traffic. "Stay where you are, eh. Don't come here. I'll have your mother call you when she gets home. Stay calm, go to your classes," my father told me. He didn't need to tell me twice. I listened and obeyed out of reverence and respect, not out of fear or of some selfish intention. My family, at the moment, was safe and if anything were to happen to everyone, I'm sure my parents would be happy to know I was far enough away from it all to be safe and alive.

I can't remember if or when Mary got a hold of her mom who lived in Maspeth but I think she got in contact with her father who lived in Nyack, NY and possibly her brother in the Air Force over in Idaho or Montana or somewhere in the west. I called my friend Loot and eh told me so far, everyone in his family was okay.. That was a quick phone call since i think he was retreating further into Queens to avoid the pending traffic mayhem that the events would produce.

The day started to go on, noon came and we were getting tired of watching the devastation on the TV screen. We were all hungry and decided to go into town and get some bagels and sandwiches at this little deli that Mary's friend owned. The town seemed calm, no different than any other day. We were far from calm. Scotty was rambling more than usual while Mary and I were a bit more reflective about the situation. I was watching the people we were passing intheir cars to see if I could notice anything different about them. Honestly I don't remember really seeing anyone who seemed visually disturbed at all.

We parked and walked to the deli on Main Street. It was beautiful out. That same blue sky that got violently interrupted over the New York City skyline was quiet and stainless over The Leather Stocking District in upstate New York.

In the deli, I think that I ordered an everything bagel with cream cheese and chives. I grabbed a juice and went outside to where Mary and Scotty were chatting with some Oneonta folks they knew. I sat on a cobblestone plant holder across the sidewalk as they sat a few feet away at the tables set out in front of the deli. There was brief mention about the attacks, but it seemed quite tamed. Scotty started off strong about it but even he became a bit subdued by the calmness of the reactions of others. I remember him walking away from their tables, lighting a cigarette and running his hands through his hair with a mixed sense of frustration and bewilderment.

These other people just didn't seem to get it. Mary was trying to have a conversation with another friend of hers, something about the woman's young daughter I think. She seemed to really be stressing a sense of normalcy. People stopped by, Oneonta hippies that were friends with my room mate Dan and knew Mary as well, but I didn't really ever make any connections with them. We nodded at each other and they began at first to talk about the attacks and then quickly started talking about some concert or other they had went to recently. they were always talking about concerts. it was very annoying.

I became increasingly displeased with every bite of my bagel. I finished my food, tossed out the garbage and crossed the street to the coffee shop for a cup. In there, the same indifference seemed to permeate the air. I don't know, maybe it was me. Maybe I was expecting everyone to be up in arms, running around with their heads cut off. I mean, everyone was all smiles and business as usual, not even with the least bit of worry on their faces.

I got tired of the scene and went back to Mary and Scotty to tell them I planned on leaving. Dan was there now. He had walked back from campus. Classes were canceled for the rest of the day, which was no big surprise. Dan too, at first pissed me off at how off hand and dismissive he had been about the situation. We spoke about what we had seen on televeision, briefly. He seem unaffected by it. I was completely irked, especially after Dan's reaction. He was my friend. My family lived down there. Mary's family lived down there. How could he seem so disinterested in it all.

Mary and Scotty left with me. We went back to their house. I aired my frustration and they had noticed it as well. They aren't New Yorkers i thought, they can't relate. It has to be that I thought. Scotty wasn't from NYC but he had lived in the Village for a while before the millennium and still had numerous friends down there so he was very concerned for the state of things down there. I was beginning to get pissed about the situation and began to formulate a plan to drive down to NYC regardless of my fathers advice. I was going to get my car checked up and my brakes replaced that day anyway, after classes, so I dropped Mary and Scotty off at their house and went a few blocks away to Mary's mechanic and asked him to get to fixing' my 93 Ford Taurus.

The mechanic checked out my car and gave me an estimate. I told him I needed it as soon as possible because I planned on going down to NYC right away. "Whats in NYC that you need to get there in a hurry? You live down there or something", the guy said to me.
Now, at this point, its about 2:00 or 2:30 pm. I couldn't believe how he was asking me this question; that was the last straw. "My family lives down there, the city was attacked today. Manhattan is under a cloud of smoke, thats why I need to get down there. Haven't you heard about what happened?" My voice was trembling but t was fierce as well.

"Yeah, yeah sure, heard it , saw some of it too, on TV. What happened, some planes crashing into a building or something," he said, oblivious, as he was wrenching something into place underneath my car that had been raised in the garage. I bit my tongue, "yeah, thats it, planes hit a building." I was seconds from snapping, so I went outside to smoke a cigarette. The images kept going through my mind, some planes crashing into buildings, buildings crumbling, people dying, a city, my city, dissolving into possible chaos, possibly beyond repair. Rocky Votolato says "sometimes an on/off switch would sure come in handy...", sometimes, because those memories, those sights, those feeling, they don't fade easily. I guess if they did, I'd be unhappy in the forgetting as well as in the remembering. Could you turn that sword around, no, no, this way, no, no, maybe that way, oh, shit, stabbed!