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The End of Innocence: September 11, 2001

At about 8:50 a.m., I got into a taxi on the corner of St. Mark’s Place and Third Ave. in the East Village. The taxi headed east on St. Mark’s and turned south onto Second Ave. toward Houston Street and lower Manhattan.

On Second Ave., I saw many people staring up and finally I noticed a large plume of gray smoke against a cloudless, blue sky. My first thought was that there was a huge fire somewhere downtown.

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And then I saw it.

The towers of the World Trade Center were burning. I wondered how it was possible that both buildings could be burning at about the same height, at the same time. My mind was struggling to understand the sight.

The taxi driver turned on the radio. The reporter on 1010 WINS-AM radio said she saw a jet airliner flying low over Manhattan and crash into the World Trade Center. So I, like everyone else, thought a horrible accident had occurred.

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