From an email from Liz, New York City:

On Tuesday, September 11, I was at a photo-op with Robert Urich, yes, "Spencer for Hire," at Penn Station when my cell phone rang with a cameraman from Fox 5 local news trying to find us. I gave him a landmark of 33rd and 7th Avenue, directly across from Sbarro's pizza, and we waved to one another. He signaled me with one finger that he would be over momentarily when a police car abruptly stopped in the middle of 7th Avenue. The police officer spoke to the cameraman and the cameraman vanished. I told my colleagues that there must be a story of a fire, or something more interesting than Robert Urich.

My cell phone rang again. It was my sister, Margaret who was asking me for my sister Teresa's cell phone number. She then told me that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. Typical over-reaction of family members was my first thought. "Teresa doesn't work in that building," I reassured my sister. "Yes she does," was her response.

Now, my family does always assume that when tragedy strikes in Manhattan, that my younger sister or myself is the person trapped under the crane, (1995), or, that we're on the subway at 1:30 a.m. when it crashed into Union Square, (year unknown), or that we are in the World Trade Center when two planes hit. For once, unfortunately, they were right.

Now, at this point, it has not hit me and I'm not even sure what floor Teresa works on. At Greenpoint Bank near Penn Station, a group of people began gathering in front of a television set. I walked in and saw the first plane in the building when suddenly, on live tv, we were watching the second plane strike. I got through to my sister Margaret who was now hysterical. I was trying to remain calm but could not for the life of me remember where Teresa's boyfriend worked. I called Teresa's office and got her voicemail, the cell phones were not working, (Sprint sucks).

I have to commend the people and the staff at Greenpoint Bank, they were amazingly nice to me when they heard that we did not know the status of my sister. They gave me a land-line phone and got me some water. I was not really yet panicked until I spoke to my brother Paul (nothing upsets him), and I heard his voice crack. When I heard that, I began to worry.

My co-worker Jen, suggested that I go home and took me up to my apartment. It was around 11:30 a.m. when I found out that Teresa was okay. I have to tell you that although I knew she was okay, I spent the rest of the day in tears and thanking god that I did not have to wonder if she was trapped in the rubble, had to jump from the building or smothered in the collapse. I was numb as I watched the horror of the live coverage and loved ones looking and wondering if their husbands, wives, brothers and sisters were alive. I thanked god that we knew.

My co-worker, the one who was comforting me, found out that her best friend's, (who is pregnant)husband is missing. He worked at Cantor Fitzgerald on the 104th floor has still not been found.

On the day of the carnage, my sister did a telephone interview with MSNBC, NBC local and appeared on Larry King Live. Her company pr person yelled at her for not asking for permission. I told her, give me his phone number, I'll set his ass straight. My sister had a very close, near-death experience, and they're worried about getting permission?

One would think that our stupid priorities about our jobs and deadlines would suddenly dissipate when a national crisis occurs...not when you work in the financial district.

My sister is still in shock and on the exterior seems relatively calm and collected. I prayed very hard to my dad to let her be okay. Tuesday was the worst day of our lives, but the best news was hearing her voice and knowing that she's alive. It only goes to show us all that nothing is more important than our families and our loved ones.

I have lived across the street from a firehouse for more than a dozen years. On Tuesday night, both trucks were listed as "missing." At 3:00 a.m., still glued to the tv, I smelled smoke. One of the trucks returned, the other was lost, crusched and beyond recognizable. Yesterday, one fireman from their station was confirmed dead, thirteen are still missing.

If you see a police officer or fire person on the street, thank them for being so wonderful, risking their lives even two days after this horrible tragedy. As I write this, I have learned that they have evacuated the vicinity of The Empire State Building, Grand Central and Times Square. Great, if anything happens, I am at 470 Park Avenue South, two blocks away. I just told the president of my company about this, she told me not to panic. I told her that I would rather die with my family than die in my office.

Let's hope this is just a "bomb scare," and nothing more. Let's also pray that nothing like this ever happens again in our lifetime. The loss is too great and the pain, too much to bear.