{"id":4483,"date":"2026-09-08T14:05:07","date_gmt":"2026-09-08T20:05:07","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/?p=4483"},"modified":"2026-09-08T14:05:07","modified_gmt":"2026-09-08T20:05:07","slug":"a-tragedy-that-left-its-mark-on-all-of-us","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/irenenorth.com\/writings\/2026\/09\/08\/a-tragedy-that-left-its-mark-on-all-of-us\/","title":{"rendered":"A tragedy that left its mark on all of us"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Lower Manhattan with The World Trade Center as seen from outside the Hoboken, NJ train station in 1995. Photo by Irene North.<\/p><\/div>\n

Take the train from Middletown, New York, to Hoboken, New Jersey. Transfer to the PATH train and get off at the World Trade Center. The World Trade Center. That was always my starting point to any trip into New York City.<\/p>\n

On this trip into the city, My husband, Paul, and I made plans to spend the weekend and attend a convention for the television series \u201cFarscape.\u201d It was our first ever \u201ccon\u201d and we had a lot of fun. We didn\u2019t know if we\u2019d ever be able to afford another one, so we bought the best tickets. It took a long time to frame all the autographed photos from that weekend, but if you ever visit our home, they adorn our living room walls.<\/p>\n

On Monday morning, September 10, 2001, we packed out backpacks and headed back to The World Trade Center to begin our journey in reverse. We typically made a quick stop in the bookstore before heading down to catch the PATH train back to Hoboken.<\/p>\n

On this morning, we were a little early and it was the start of a beautiful day, so we stepped outside the train station in Hoboken to take in the views of Manhattan, which lies just across the Hudson River. Paul snapped pictures of the twin towers with his Canon 35mm film camera. Its tops were obscured by clouds, which was slightly frustrating.<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t think these ones will turn out well,\u201d I said. \u201cWe can get better ones next time.\u201d<\/p>\n

The longer we stood looking at the skyline and the river, the more I wanted to stay. I had off work until Wednesday. I told Paul we should get back on the PATH train and spend the day wandering around Manhattan and head up to the observation deck at the twin towers. He said no. Paul was in grad school at SUNY-Binghamton and had a Monday night class. <\/p>\n

\u201cWe can go up it next time,\u201d he said “I can’t miss my class. It’s only once a week.”<\/p>\n

Paul and I had different ideas of grades in college. He always had As, maybe a B+ here and there. My attitude was always, \u201chey, it\u2019s not an F.\u201d I would later learn my struggles in school was due to undiagnosed trauma and PTSD. At the time, I was perturbed we didn\u2019t stay, but school was also important to Paul, so we hopped on the train back to Middletown.<\/p>\n

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A Metro-North train at the tracks in Hoboken, New Jersey. Photo by Irene North.<\/p><\/div>\n

One of the things we both enjoyed about the train station were the giant bins where people recycled their newspapers when they got off the train. They left them on the train, too, but we wanted to make sure we had reading material for the 90-minute ride. We had copies of the New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, The Daily News, and The New York Post. When we boarded the train, I found a copy of my hometown newspaper, The Times-Herald Record, and we added it to the pile.<\/p>\n

I usually read the papers once we got back home. The views on the train are always spectacular and I make sure I\u2019m fully alert for the spot just south of Middletown where the train travels above the treeline. Beautiful and scary, and I stare out the window every time.<\/p>\n

My mom picked us up at the train station and insisted we eat breakfast before I drove the final 2.5 hours back to Binghamton. Technically, we lived in Endicott in an apartment building just down the road from the old Endicott-Johnson shoe factory. You just say Binghamton because everyone knows it.<\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t think much of the trip other than I got to see more woods, rivers, and beauty along Highway 17. It was the best part of the drive between Middletown and Binghamton. Just outside of Binghamton, the road changes from four lanes to a billion. Cars zoom by doing much more than the posted 55 MPH speed limit. The world turns into a concrete harshness. I clench the steering wheel, turn my road rage up to a two or three and bear down on the next 10 minutes. Once through the mess, I meander through downtown Endicott and back home where I can relax on my couch.<\/p>\n

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Paul and Irene’s apartment building in Endicott, NY, taken sometime in 2002. Their apartment was on the second floor, third window (with balcony to the left) from the right. Photo by Irene North.<\/p><\/div>\n

I drove Paul to his class and picked him up three hours later. It had been a long, but fun and entertaining weekend. When I got up in the morning, I unlocked the screen on BrintaBBS and it was flooded with messages. Friends in England and The Netherlands left me messages.<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you Okay?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDid you and Paul make it home?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPlease tell me you\u2019re okay.\u201d<\/p>\n

Confused, I started replying. Obviously they thought something had happened to us. Some thought we were still in New York City. I didn\u2019t know what was going on. I assured everyone I was okay. Someone told me to turn on my TV. I asked why. The reply was \u201cit\u2019s on every TV in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n

I turned on CNN. It was the station I went to first for anything important. This seemed important.<\/p>\n

The first plane had already hit the tower. I remember someone on the TV saying something about how it might have been a small, private plane that hit the first tower. I thought the fire was too big for such a little plane.<\/p>\n

Paul and I talked. Speculated. Decided to wait on more information. He grabbed his backpack and I took him to campus for his Tuesday morning class. I got back to the apartment, put the key in the lock, and opened the door just in time to see the second plane flying into the second tower.<\/p>\n

I stood there, my hand still on the doorknob. I knew what I saw, but did I? Surely this must be a horrible accident. Except it had already happened less than 30 minutes ago. Thoughts fleeting in my brain take milliseconds but manage to slow time completely for you. I blinked. No. I didn\u2019t just see what I just saw. But I did. Fuck. I did.<\/p>\n

My brain tells me I saw it live, but I’m not sure. There were only 17 minutes between plane strikes. It takes that long, each way, to get to the university campus. I saw plane coming in from the right<\/a> and hit the tower, but it must have been a replay. I spent the rest of the day flipping stations in an effort to get new information. Information overload. Information fatigue. Live. Not live. It doesn’t matter. It happened and I was being sucked down into the crushing weight of too much information and repeating videos.<\/p>\n