It was Primary Election day. I was one of the election inspectors at a High School in Queens when a cop said to me “My God it is real, we are under attack.” For the first time in American history we stopped an election. I had been doing Red Cross for a while already so I headed in to headquarters and got there after noon. 10,000 volunteers were lined up at the building, the old HQ since gone behind Lincoln Center, the head of Youth Services, a mountain of a man named John Royce, since passed away, organized the volunteers. That day I ran supplies down to the scene. Never to forget, advancing into the cloud below Canal street, the smell, the heat you could feel over a block away. Saw the staff waiting outside the hospital a block away, waiting for the survivors who weren’t coming, the nurses crying. The Next day I was on the gov’t liason office team at the temporary Office of Emergency Management HQ at the Police Academy after WTC 7 collapsed, every few minutes someone would yell over the noise “Is anyone from the Medical Examiner here?” or “Is anyone from the morgue here?”. Then I was the local liason to the National Red Cross team that came to do the Damage Assesment. We inspected lower Manhattan pretty thoroughly and concluded that it was damaged. Next few days did mass care at the respite in front of the Columbus school. Checked for people who hadn’t evacuated, Superintedants tipped us off. Found the Wall Street Hotel up and running to serve rescue workers.