Living history: Stonehill Narrative Writing 2013: When Would the Shuffling Stop?

By Amanda Egesi

New York Times Front Page Photo

http://www.doobybrain.com/2007/09/11/new-york-times-front-page-september-12-2001/

When Would the Shuffling Stop?

Sarah Biggers walked down her long suburban driveway. When you think of New York, you don’t think about the suburbs. You think about the tall buildings and the busy night life. But most importantly you think about the millions of people hustling through downtown New York City every day. It’s not like that in Cortlandt Manor, New York, is a town with 41,592 people in north Westchester County.

On the morning of September 11, 2001, there stood ten year old Sarah in her driveway with her big brown curly hair, holding a pink lunch box. Patiently, she waited for her bus to pull up in front of her white house with black shutters. Bus 348 showed up to her house at 99 Red Mill Road. She climbed the four steps onto the loud, giggly bus full of elementary kids. The bus made 20 more stops up the big hill. She was only a mile away from her school. At the top of the hill the yellow school bus arrived at the brick building that read: George Washington Elementary School. It was on 3634 Lexington Ave Mohegan Lake, New York.

She walked into her homeroom where she waited for the teachers to take attendance. One by one hands flew up and children’s voices answered “Here!” as the teacher went through roll call. For most of the morning, Sarah and her classmates were reading before their next activity. The shuffling of shoes started at 9:03 in the morning. More and more teachers buzzed around the classroom. It was unusual. But Sarah continued reading her book. The shuffling continued. Sniffles and gasps came from some teachers. Some started crying as they covered their face and mouth. Then the dismissals started. Slowly one by one Sarah’s classmates were being dismissed. The teachers wouldn’t tell the kids what was going on. As the day continued, the class size got smaller and smaller. Sarah’s 4th grade teacher Mrs. Mero went from desk to desk asking kids if their parents worked in the city. “Most of everyone’s parents worked in the city. It was the norm,”Sarah knew.

She heard kids saying, “I don’t know where my parents work” “Ummmm” “I think their home.” Then it was Sarah’s turn. Mrs. Mero crouched down in front of Sarah’s desk with her fiery red hair, stretchy spandexie pants and oversized blue shirt, “Did she know where her parents worked?”

“Yes, I do. Dad works in the city on 37^th street at Razorfish,”Sarah answered.

Mrs. Mero’s face was blank. Her cold white hand touched Sarah’s cheek as she starred into her eyes as hers filled up with tears. Mrs. Mero slowly stood up, fixed her blouse, and patted her eyes dry. She continued the same pattern. She went to each kid, crouched down to their level and put her hand on their shoulder. Her face was pale and expressionless. Every now and then she wiped away the tears slowly falling from her eyes.

A voice came over the load speakers. It was Principal Tracy Norman. First, there was a crackle from the P.A. system turning on. Then, a long pause before he started speaking. His voice was serious, slow, and clam. His stern principal voice informed the school there had been an emergency in the city. Everyone needed to be dismissed early. Please follow instructions from the teachers.

The sound of kids screaming, laughing at jokes, and girls singing hand games on the bus, was now a memory. The bus ride home was as silent as a classroom during a spelling test. Sarah could even hear her own breathing. There were only a few riders on the ride home. They were just as silent as she was. The 20 stops to drop off students were just five. Each stop took five to ten minutes as the driver made sure a parent was there to escort each child home.

At the bottom of the hill on 99 Red Mill Road, the bus pulled up to Sarah’s white house. She could see her mom waiting in the driveway with her arms crossed. Sarah walked off the bus and ran to her mom. “I remember she was shaking, and I didn’t know why,” Sarah recalled. Sarah’s neighbor, Christina Velazquez, had no one to walk her to her house. Christina came over to the Bigger’s home.

Someone was already in their house when they all walked back in. It was Caitlin Biggers, the eldest of the sisters. Sarah looked up to Caitlin. She saw Caitlin sitting on the couch in front of the TV. They looked at each other and together, Sarah, Caitlin, and Christina sat on the big soft gray couch in the living room in silence. They were watching the Twin Towers burn in the city.

This time at home, the shuffling started again, Sarah’s mom Anne Biggers, couldn’t stop moving. She was pacing back and forth, passing the TV each time. She had the phone in one hand and the other was on her hip. “They can’t be gone, they can’t.” Mrs. Biggers always told the girls how great it was to see the New York skyline from where she lived in Staten Island. She could always saw the Twin Towers. They made the skyline.

Now, as she walked in front of the TV, all she could see was her beautiful skyline was the “1,362-foot-tall south tower and 1,368-foot-tall north tower were gone. The buildings were designed to with stand resistance to the gravity loads and lateral forces caused by high winds and earthquakes,” She was clutching the phone in her hand and prayed her husband Rob Biggers was alive and safe.

Dad, Rob Biggers was only 20 blocks away from the Twin Towers on September 11when the plane hit He worked at Razorfish as a delivery principal and client partner. Razorfish was just outside of Time Square on 1440 Broadway and West 40^th. Rob watched from his window at work as the second tower fell. Before he fled his building, he picked up his landline office phone and called Anne.

“Anne, where are the girls?”

“They are home. Honey are you safe, where are you,?” Anne frantically asked.

“I’m safe. We are all evacuating the building. I’m walking up town to meet Rick and Padaric. See you soon. Tell the girls everything is okay,” said Rob.

He packed his work items onto a small rolling cart and fled the city along with thousands of others New Yorkers. Rob took the Metro-north into work every day. But that morning he couldn’t take it back home. He walked from the city to safety. Leaving his building he was welcomed with dust that stuck to everything and everyone around him. After walking 40 long blocks up town to 550 Madison Ave and East 55^th, he met up with his best friends Rick Sheridan and Padraic Smith. Still dragging his rolling car, they made it to the parking garage where Rick’s black Toyota Camry was.

The towers burned for 56 minutes and 102 minutes, then fell in 12 minutes. Rob Biggers was not one of them. After sitting in two hours of bumper to bumper traffic on Hutchinson Parkway Rob finally pulled up to the long driveway on 99 Red Mill Road. Starring at his white house with black shutters he recalls it as, “A peaceful moment.”

Some New Yorkers returned home in the dark that night. Some didn’t make it out of their work building after the attack. Sarah remembers hearing her father’s voice, which was soothing to her. Peering down the staircase she saw him, covered in soot. His black suit jacket was damp. His rolling cart with work papers were coated with white stuff that looked like snow. Anne jumped in his arms. Sarah and Caitlin ran down the stairs. “He looked shocked, tired, and blank,” Sarah recalled. They all sat there watching the news. Anne kept repeating the same phrase: my skyline is gone, my skyline is gone. The Biggers sat there together in silence. Quietly reflecting on how appreciative they were to be tucked away in the suburbs distant from all the hustle and bustle.

Looking outside down the long drive away on 99 Red Mill Road, there was nothing. Everyone was peacefully in their homes with their loved ones. But others living in “the city that never sleeps” were not so lucky.