For three months in 1982, I was a commuter on the Metro-North Railroad into New York City. I was interning with Herman Hall, an educational psychologist, and my school day began at 8.00 am.
The 6.00 am train from Greens Farms was busy but it was quiet. People read books and newspapers. If they spoke to each other, they did so in low, non-intrusive voices. The conductor would announce the name of every town. I loved the poetry of those names – Rowayton, Noroton Heights, Mamaroneck, Cos Cob, Larchmont. Twenty-two in all. As the train pulled into each station a soft chime would sound, followed by a release of compressed air as the sliding doors opened and people got on and off.
Many who commuted on the Metro-North into Grand Central Station worked in the Financial District of Lower Manhattan, including Herman’s son, Rick, whose office was on the 90th floor of the South Tower.
On September 11th, 2002, the first anniversary of 9/11, New York Public Radio interviewed Jim Horch, an ironworker who was one of the first at the scene after the twin towers fell. He worked as a volunteer at Ground Zero for many days afterwards, helping with the recovery effort.*
Jim described the “charged and supernatural” atmosphere he experienced while working on what rescue and recovery workers referred to as “the Pile” – the smouldering mountain of twisted steel, pulverised concrete and personal items left after the twin towers collapsed.
“You could feel the people” he said. “At least I thought I felt them. And there were days, at the end of my shift, when I took people with me.”
One evening Horch felt impelled to go to Grand Central Station. “I felt that whoever followed me out wanted to go.” He took the escalators down on to the platforms, where he stood, and waited, as the souls of the victims caught their trains home.
*The singer, Mary Chapin Carpenter, heard the interview with Horch and was inspired to write a song she titled “Grand Central Station”. Her album “Between Here and Gone” was released in 2004.
Richard B. Hall April 30th 1952 – September 11th 2001
Herman W. Hall April 6th 1917 – September 19th 2001