9/11 is a little more than 2 weeks away. Do you remember where you were?

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Ten minutes late, I rushed upstairs to an early morning lesson.
Arriving to find instructor and students in prayer, my desk mate explaining: A plane had crashed into the WTC. On a clear day over obstacles, in well controlled airspace; human error or mechanical failure were unlikely.

We sat, oblivious; reviewing course material. As Flight 93 impacted the North Tower.

Not until reaching the administration lobby did the sheer weight of what was unfolding come to bear. Faculty and staff stood shoulder to shoulder in hushed tones.
Watching the twin towers trail smoke on a central television.

Then a news recap, and studio replays resumed.
Addressing the nation, their backs turned to the harbor beyond, unaware.

Behind the anchor's desk, a flash of silver glint on the horizon slowly took form. Wings swept, a plummeting Phoenix grew in the view screen. To be reduced to ashes in a roar of angry red flame.

Its throat slit, fiery slag and molten glass spewed from the 85th floor of the North tower, onto day trippers in the plaza below.

Birds sang, the sky burned blue; all the while, New York was bleeding.



The first I'd seen of any impact, was well beyond my comprehension.
Students tried desperately to reach loved ones in the World Trade Center, only to get busy signals or an error message. Left sobbing, to be consoled by staff in a dim corner.

Under fighter escort, Air Force One touched down next store to us. Our region becoming central command for a nation under siege.
Although safely across the country, my world suddenly became very small. With everyone now a target, our chaos was just beginning.



The lobby murmured with the CNN live feed. All at once something changed -- dramatically.
I stood and watched the North Tower shift, then sway. Its antenna mast lingered -- hung in space; then relinquished, to a swirling plume 110 stories high. Dissolving into carnage below.
It was a scene out of fiction. Humbling, in its awesome ferocity. Defying conception or belief, the iron giants had been felled.


I'd born witness to the Pearl Harbor of our generation. Unable to assimilate its images as they unfolded in real time, what of their significance in my own life -- and years later on?

Today, the spectre of that beautiful Tuesday still haunts me.
I see the ribbon of smoke across the face of Manhattan; black, curling its way up Long Island Sound.
That in the hour of its greatest devastation, it wore like a funeral veil.


If ever it were more appropriate, we signed off that day as citizens, journalists, and first responders, bidding one another: "Goodnight, and good luck".

- Seth Greene



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Excerpt taken from - My Cathedral: In the House of Stone and Light. By Seth Greene 531 Chapter 7, pg. 52

[b]©[/b] Copyright 2021 Seth Greene 531. All Rights Reserved.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author.

My Cathedral: In the House of Stone and Light by Seth Greene 531
Published by Greene Development Media
Graphic Design and Cover by Greyline House of Design
Published in the United States of America
First Edition 2021