9/11: redefining the word "normal" in Manhattan.

I was born during World War II. I spent my grammar school years during theKoreanWar participating in air raid drills, hiding under desks. I served in the U.S. Navy Nurse Corps in an air evacuation unit at the Naval Hospital on Guam during the VietnamWar. But I never knew thedevastationofwar until September 11. I work for the Visiting Nurse Service of New York (VNSNY) Home Care, the nation’s largest nonprofit home health agency. On any given day, we provide home care services to approximately 24,000 New Yorkers. My office is in Manhattan and is located at 32nd Street and Broadway, two blocks from Macy’s Department Store. September 11, 2001, began as a clear, bright, beautiful day. By 7:30 a.m., as I usually do, I sat outside my office sipping my morning coffee and chattingwith coworkers whowere also early starters. Everyone commented on the beautiful weather and on howmuch the nurses would enjoymaking their visits in such good weather since winter was approaching. At 8:47 a.m., when American Airlines flight 11 crashed into Tower 1 of the World Trade Center (WTC), I was in my office well into my day’s work. Shortly thereafter, my life-partner Jimie, who also works at VNSNY, called and said he was talking to his mother, who was watching television and told him a plane had flown into theWTC. Suddenly I heard commotion outside my office, and everyone was buzzing with the news and speculating that it must have been a small plane andwas probably an accident.A short time after 9:02 a.m., when United Airlines flight 175 hit Tower 2, we all realized that this was no accident; it was a catastrophe that was deliberate. We turned radios on and discovered that because of a lack of accessibility to a television, we had limited access to comprehensive news coverage. The only words that I can find to describe my feelings at the time was numbness and fear. Iwondered howmanyof our nurseswere in the streets near theWTCbeginning their daily home visits. After hearing about American Airlines flight 77 crashing into the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia at 9:41 a.m., I felt the worst was yet to come. At 10 a.m., whenUnited Airlines flight 93 crashed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, I thought there would be no end to the catastrophe that was taking place. By 10 a.m., the sirens from emergency vehicles were continuous throughout the city. We learned that the Federal Aviation Administration had closed airspace over New York City, and the Port Authority of NewYork and New Jersey had ordered all bridges and tunnels leading to Manhattan closed. Shortly thereafter, the Borough of Manhattan was placed in a “lockdown” status, and all transportation came to a halt. The panic and pandemonium that ensued became self-evident when all offices and businesses began to close down. I looked outside my office window and saw thousands of people in the streets, all trying to flee Manhattan and get home. Because transportation had stopped, people began walking miles just to get home and away from Manhattan. As hospitals mobilized to deal with the aftermath, so did VNSNY.We had to ensure that our patients who were still in their homes were safe and secure. We had Features