Courier Life’s

Tell us your memories of 9-11

Brooklyn Daily
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The Community Newspaper Group is asking its readers to share their stories of Sept. 11, 2001 — from the moments of heroism, to the moments of tragedy; from the personal to the universal.

Everyone who was alive to see it has a vivid memory of that day — and together, those insights will form a unique oral history of 9-11, and provide a glimpse of how far we have come since terrorists knocked down one of our city’s gleaming symbols.

We’ll collect your stories and pictures and publish them in our upcoming special issue, “Brooklyn Remembers 9-11,” which will be included in our editions of Sept. 8.

It’s an issue that you won’t want to miss, featuring special commemorative coverage, pictures and, of course, your insights.

“The goal here is to hear from our readers, who know better than any reporter how they felt on that day, and how they’re feeling now,” said Community Newspaper Group Editor Vince DiMiceli. “And by collecting all their stories, our readers can learn from each other, and perhaps get a new insight into the tragedy.”

So tell us where you were, what you were doing, and what you saw that fateful day, and let us know how it affected your life, and the lives of those you love.

Then, look for our special issue on Sept. 8, and together, we’ll Remember 9-11.

Please submit your stories and pictures to:

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Reader Feedback

William Coleman from Kensington, Brooklyn says:
It was the day after my birthday. My children and my grandchildren had visited me the day before and I was still basking n the glow of their love. On Monday I went to work and on the way up my cell phone rang in the elevator. My wife was calling and told me the news. I ran to the south side of my building and I could see the flames belching out of the building. There were helicopters flying around the maelstrom. Then I saw another large plance coming down the Hudson River. More photo's I thought. Then as the plance flew out towards Bedloes Island it turned and started back towards the World Trade Center. Up to this point I had thought that the whole thing was some sort of an accident. Then the plane crashed into the tower. It seemed as it hit it slightly askew, as if to cause more damage. I knew and felt a deep sorrow upon myself as though the lost of all those lives were some how part of myself that was dying as well. I left my office at once and people in the streets were going and coming as if in a trance. I reaced the subway and boarded the downtown "F: train. Halfway home, the train was halted and people filed forward to traverse towards the front. "Women and children First" was the call, so I held the doors open, until at last I left the train. I could see the towers from the train station, and then suddenly
the tower collapsed before my eyes. No excalator so I walked down to the street. A gigantic dust cloud covered everyone, and it appeared as if it were snowing.
In seconds my clothing was covered with the dust. I thought that maybe we were at war and this was only the beginning, and today was to my last. On the street the cars were racing by, and I stuck out my thumb. A Hasidic guy caught my eye and he stopped. They pulled me in. It seemed they had never seen an african-american before. They touched my face. The driver said "They're crazy". Then they drove me home. I retired two days later, at the age of 64.
Dec. 14, 2012, 2:58 pm

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