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The sister-in-law (that is, his wife's sister -- I think I've met her before) of one of my close co-workers worked in the World Trade Center.
She missed her regular train yesterday morning and had to catch a later one. She arrived at the station just beneath the building around 8:45 AM -- she felt the shock of the first crash a few minutes later. She ran outside just in enough time to see the second explosion.
She works on the 70th something floor. The plane hit the 60th something floor. Had she been on time, she would have been trapped. And an hour later, she would have been gone. She spent all last night calling relatives and friends and just talking, not just so they would know she was all right but because after a near miss like that, all you can do is talk and talk and talk and talk...
...just because you can...
I suppose there's some lesson in this story about procastinators or something like that. Me, I've never been late to work in my life unless I had a car incident. I don't have to be at work here at the station until 8:30 AM and I'm usually here between 7A and 7:30A. So if I worked on an upper floor of the Trade Center... I'd undoubtedly be dead right now. Unless, I had a case of serendipity yesterday morning (rather than last night at the movie theater).
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