WTC – a Dante’s glimpse of the Inferno: —Michael Gerard Connolly’s personal memoir

I got off the No. 1 southbound local subway train underneath the World Trade Center in Lower Manhattan that bright September day about 8:48 a.m., a minute or so after all Hell slammed into the North Tower 90 or more stories above. At least that’s the time cited by the train’s driver interviewed in the New York Times a week later, though at that time we passengers on that last train to travel under the twin towers knew nothing of what had just happened above.

Pandemonium didn’t begin to break out among us until we were mounting the steps from the platform up to the WTC concourse one floor above. I was about four steps up when those at the top began turning around, some holding briefcases aloft, and pushing back down onto those climbing behind, shouting, “Shooting. Shooting. Go back. Go back.” I turned and jumped back down to the platform, and, after yelling out to the nonplussed Continue reading WTC – a Dante’s glimpse of the Inferno: —Michael Gerard Connolly’s personal memoir