A slight scare
We had a slight scare in the financial district this morning. A fire started in the building across the street, causing streams of fire trucks and emergency vehicles to rush to the scene.
We first heard about the fire because (N), one of the other attorneys on our floor, downstairs to get coffee, emailed my officemate, telling her to bring N's purse if they evacuated our building.
We could hear a cacophony of sirens, and as we looked out our window, we could see fire trucks fighting traffic to get to the building. A delivery truck was blocking the street, and the driver seemed completely confused of where to go so that the fire trucks could pass. Seconds ticked away as the fire trucks honked and the delivery driver pulled forward, then moved in reverse, clueless of how to move out of the way.
Soon, the building fire safety director came on over the loudspeakers, informing us that we were safe at the present time and that we would be notified of any developments. Fortunately, within an hour, the "all clear" announcement came.
I still don't know the extent of the fire, but hopefully no one was badly injured. It's just a scary reminder of how real the threat of terrorism is here, particularly in the financial district. Everything that happens makes you jump a little more, wondering if it's more than just a normal electrical fire.
At this point, it seems inevitable that terrorists will strike New York. The subway attacks last month in London demonstrated the continued presence of terrorists and the ease with which they can wreak havoc. So we sit, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
We don't know when the attack is coming, or by what means. So we watch the skies, as we did a couple weeks ago when a small, low-flying plane circled the tip of Manhattan before flying off to New Jersey. The low whispers spread from office to office as people ask what is happening out our windows. We watch the streets, as fire trucks rush to fight a blaze of undetermined origins. We watch the people around us, wondering if the man with the large bag is going to blow us all into oblivion. And we hope. We hope that we won't be nearby when the strike comes.
We first heard about the fire because (N), one of the other attorneys on our floor, downstairs to get coffee, emailed my officemate, telling her to bring N's purse if they evacuated our building.
We could hear a cacophony of sirens, and as we looked out our window, we could see fire trucks fighting traffic to get to the building. A delivery truck was blocking the street, and the driver seemed completely confused of where to go so that the fire trucks could pass. Seconds ticked away as the fire trucks honked and the delivery driver pulled forward, then moved in reverse, clueless of how to move out of the way.
Soon, the building fire safety director came on over the loudspeakers, informing us that we were safe at the present time and that we would be notified of any developments. Fortunately, within an hour, the "all clear" announcement came.
I still don't know the extent of the fire, but hopefully no one was badly injured. It's just a scary reminder of how real the threat of terrorism is here, particularly in the financial district. Everything that happens makes you jump a little more, wondering if it's more than just a normal electrical fire.
At this point, it seems inevitable that terrorists will strike New York. The subway attacks last month in London demonstrated the continued presence of terrorists and the ease with which they can wreak havoc. So we sit, waiting for the other shoe to drop.
We don't know when the attack is coming, or by what means. So we watch the skies, as we did a couple weeks ago when a small, low-flying plane circled the tip of Manhattan before flying off to New Jersey. The low whispers spread from office to office as people ask what is happening out our windows. We watch the streets, as fire trucks rush to fight a blaze of undetermined origins. We watch the people around us, wondering if the man with the large bag is going to blow us all into oblivion. And we hope. We hope that we won't be nearby when the strike comes.
posted by N at 12:04 PM
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