The Many Wounds of 9/11

On September 11, 2001, I was going to work in the city, taking the PATH train from Jersey City, as I worked at 4 Times Square. If the train to 33rd Street was delayed, I would sometimes take the train to the World Trade Center and then the subway.  At around 8:30 a.m., I was about to board the train to the World Trade Center when, at the last minute, I changed my mind. An odd feeling came over me and seemed to say, “Not today. Just wait.” Had I boarded that train, I might not be writing this article today.

When I got to the office, everyone seemed to be in a panic. At first, I thought there was some kind of major IT issue. Then my boss, Sheila, said, “Did you hear what happened? A plane just hit the World Trade Center.”

I couldn’t believe it. We went up to the top floor of the building, which I believe was the New Yorker. A large crowd had gathered, standing quietly in shock, as we watched smoke and fire coming from the tower. People were taking pictures and calling family and friends, trying to describe what they were seeing.

Then someone said out loud, “All those people.”

Until that moment, it hadn’t occurred to me that there were people inside the building—and on the plane. As that reality began to sink in, out of nowhere, the second plane hit.

At that point, we knew this wasn’t an accident. It was a terror attack.

Soon, we could hear police cars and fire trucks everywhere. No one understood what was happening or where the next attack might be. Would Times Square be next? Should we leave? How would we get home? It was utter confusion, with no clear direction or reliable information.

Then another thought hit me: Where were my friends? Were they still at the World Trade Center? Were they on the PATH train? I frantically called their cell phones, but no one answered.

Then my mother called from home. I told her I was okay.

Eventually, the phones started working again, and people began trying to make their way home. With transportation disrupted, the ferries became one of the few ways for many of us to get back to New Jersey. While waiting for the ferry, we watched with fear and anger at what someone had done to our city and a symbol of our pride. It felt as though some part of us had been stripped away.

Fortunately, no one I knew was harmed, and everyone I knew eventually made it home safely. This was not the case for thousands of others that day.

In the days that followed, we learned more about the tremendous loss of life and who was responsible: Al Qaeda, an Islamist extremist terror organization. Fear quickly turned into anger.

An African American friend of mine made a comment that has stayed with me. He said it was terrible and sad, but that after so many years of the Black community being targeted, the focus now seemed to have shifted to “brown folks.”

The hate spread quickly. Hindus and Sikhs were targeted, not because they had any connection to the extremists responsible for the attacks, but because they were brown, looked different, or, in the case of many Sikhs, wore turbans. Hundreds of hate incidents were reported against South Asian, Sikh, Hindu, Muslim, and Arab Americans. More than 300 incidents targeting Sikhs were documented within the first few months, while Hindus and other South Asians were also assaulted and threatened, and homes, businesses, and places of worship were attacked. Balbir Singh Sodhi, a Sikh man, was murdered in Mesa, Arizona, on September 15, 2001, by a man seeking revenge for 9/11.

The Trauma That Followed

A New England Journal of Medicine study conducted just weeks after 9/11 found that 7.5% of Manhattan residents surveyed showed symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and nearly 10% experienced depression. Among those most directly exposed, PTSD rates reached about 20%.

The impact went far beyond New York. A separate national study conducted just days after the attacks found that 44% of American adults reported at least one substantial symptom of stress, while 90% experienced some level of stress. Children were affected as well, with 35% showing at least one stress symptom.

Couple this trauma with the Hinduphobia that already existed in the United States—the harassment many Hindus experienced and the stress Hindu children often faced in schools—and the impact became even more personal. Unfortunately, I was one of the many people who suffered from trauma after 9/11. The fear, sorrow, and havoc it brought into my life and into the lives of my family and friends are difficult to put into words. It also brought back a familiar fear: that I or someone in my family could be targeted by a stranger simply because of who we were—or, even worse, because of who we were perceived to be. 

The impact that ideologies can have on society is also worthy of reflection. In a striking historical contrast, exactly 108 years earlier, on September 11, 1893, Swami Vivekananda had addressed the Parliament of the World’s Religions in Chicago.

Swami Vivekananda’s message that day was one of Universal Oneness—a vision of humanity connected beyond nationality, race, and religion. He spoke of acceptance rather than mere tolerance and warned of the devastating consequences of sectarianism, bigotry, and religious fanaticism.

The contrast between those two September 11ths could hardly have been greater: one offered a message of Universal Oneness and a vision of humanity united beyond religious differences; the other showed the terrible consequences of an ideology driven by hatred and extremism.

The author, Sameer Raval , is a New Jersey resident.