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I can't look at them. Jerico Dig Cabaysa says he does not even remember posing for this photo on September 10; he flew back to LA at 11pm that night. This was my first visit to New York and I loved it. I was about a year removed from college and was exploring moving out there. Specifically that day, we walked around Battery Park for the first time and this was my first real urge to see the Twin Towers.

My friend who lived in NY encouraged me to stay an extra day or even an extra few hours to go to the top. The plan was to do it early in the morning and then head back to LA later that evening. But being a recent graduate, I didn't have much money so we ended up leaving NY on an 11pm flight. To be quite honest, I don't remember posing for that picture. I only found it after we developed it a few weeks later. We landed very early in the morning at LAX and were probably only asleep for a few hours before my phone was ringing off the hook. Most of my friends didn't know when I was coming home.

That day was just weird. It was hard to grasp what happened. My girlfriend at the time was freaked out. She definitely thought it was a sign from God that we made it home. You can call it random luck or fate, but whatever it was, someone or something decided it wasn't my time yet. So I have to treat every day as if it was my last.

The evening of September 10, was so beautiful in Washington DC that William Sawchuck felt compelled to take this snapshot before leaving his office for the day. His memories of black smoke filling the same skyline the next day remain with him. September 10 was just an average work day like any other. I worked late into the evening from my office in Washington, DC.


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As I was leaving my office to meet a friend for dinner, I briefly looked out the window to check on the weather. It was a beautiful night - so much so that I was compelled to take a quick picture before leaving for the day. I can't remember why I even had my camera at work that day. I did not usually bring it to work.

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September 11, for me, began on the evening of the 10th. My wife was on business in Chicago and, in her absence, I had arranged to go out to dinner with a friend. I worked a little late that night and, as the evenings were now starting to get darker earlier, I couldn't help but notice the beautiful view of Capitol Hill out my DC office window. It had been many months since I had seen it in this light. I took a rather hasty snapshot on my way out the door. This is not the only reason I remember the 10th, however. I had a prophetic conversation with my friend over dinner as our talk turned to politics, as it often did.

Long story short, at one point I mentioned that it was way too early to even begin to speculate on President Bush's place in history. I said that this president will not be remembered, for the most part, by what has transpired to date. There is always at least one major issue that crops up at some point during every presidency and I don't believe we have seen it yet. Okay, my friend said, we'll leave it at that. To this date, neither one of us have forgotten that conversation.

In fact, we couldn't stop talking about it when we met the next evening. At work the next day, I first learned of the attack just after Flight 11 hit the North Tower. I remember witnessing the rest of the day's horrific events unfold live on TV from a conference room at work. At one point, there was a report from the Pentagon that there had been what seemed like an explosion of some sort and that the lights had gone out temporarily. There was speculation that it could have been connected with the attacks in New York.

I did not want to believe this to be true.

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I remember going to my office to see if I could pull up some additional information on the internet about the Pentagon incident. No such luck. The internet as well as all landlines and cell phones were rendered useless at that point. I turned around from my desk to go back to the conference room and then I saw it.

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Out my office window a large cloud of black smoke was rising ominously from across the Potomac River in the location of the Pentagon. This was the most frightening point of that day for me and an image that is now indelibly etched in my mind even though I do not have a picture of it. My home is located in Alexandria, Virginia, not five miles away from the Pentagon. The country was under attack and there was now evidence of it just a few miles away from my home.

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Now when I look back on it, I am glad that I do not have a picture of it. I prefer to remember how things were on the evening of the 10th. Additionally, I most remember my drive home from work after our offices were closed early at pm. It took about four hours to make the trip as the roads were grid-locked with traffic exiting the city.

There was virtually no inbound traffic. It was a mass exodus from the city. This was not any ordinary traffic jam, however.

I remember looking at people in the cars beside me. No-one appeared angry or frustrated with the traffic situation. They just appeared to be in a daze, as I was, searching for answers while listening to the news on the radio.

It seemed other-worldly sitting stopped on the highway while the dark smoke from the Pentagon filled the horizon. The events of that day have had a lasting impact. I am constantly aware that our way of life can drastically change in the blink of an eye. I think about another attack on our country in much the same way as one thinks about their own mortality.

It's always there in the background of my deepest thoughts. The twin towers were so impressive that Roger Walters couldn't help but snap another photo of the buildings he'd seen many times before.

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The twin towers of the World Trade Centre, photographed on September 10, I had been in the north-east since the previous week attending to my mother's funeral. NYC had always been one of my favourite places to visit.

I was a bit embarrassed taking another picture of the towers I had seen so many times before, but I remember thinking how you just couldn't help it. They were that impressive.

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On the morning of Tuesday September 11, I was in New Jersey preparing to leave for the airport when I received a call telling me to turn on the television. I soon realised that I wouldn't be leaving after all and was in New Jersey for the entire week following the attacks, before flying back to Dallas on Saturday September I felt permanently altered that day. Like many, I reassessed my priorities and resolved not to procrastinate any longer on the important things in life.

One of those important things was to actually live in New York City, after admiring it from afar for 30 years. In March of , I made that dream come true. I now live in the East Village of Manhattan.