I has spent all of Monday at my uncle’s office on Franklin and Broadway. By nine o clock, I was so tired, I didn’t bother to hop on the subway back home to Brooklyn. I just crashed out on the couch. I woke up around eight the nesxt morning, and headed home. I decided to get a little execise by walking to Brooklyn via the Brooklyn Bridge, rather than take the subway. I was crossing the bridge when I heard the roar of a plane engine. That was normal in Manhattan, but this sounded a lot louder than it usally does. I looked up, and saw a plane flying low, headed toward the city. It looked like it might hit a building. It was flying very fast, and very erratic. It got closer and closer to the buildings, then, BAM! Smacked right into one of the Twin Towers. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It sounded like everyone, including me, said “HOLY SHIT!” in unison. I just stood there and stared, absolutley mesmerized. I just couldn’t comprehend what I had just seen. I, along with many others, watched in disbelief as smoke poured from a gaping hole in the middle of the tower. Then , we heard another plane screeching overhead. It was coming from a different direction, then hit the other tower like a missle. A huge fireball emerged from the building. Once again, the words “HOLY SHIT!” rang out. By now, I was beside myself. I stood there and just watched. When I saw people jumping out, I had enough. I ran all the way into Brooklyn, and down twelve blocks to my apartment. By the time I got home and turned on the televison, the Towers had collapsed. I got on my roof, which had a great view of lower Manhattan, but now I was looking at the city minus the World Trade Center. I watched the tube all night, and early into the next day. I will never, never, forget that day. God bless the dead.