During World War ~II the U.S. Coast Guard sent my husband to Hemphill Diesel School in New York City, right after boot camp. The students were quartered in a small hotel downtown and went to evening classes by subway. In December he reserved a room for me in a similar hotel nearby and I rode in a Greyhound bus for 36 hours in order to celebrate Christmas with him.

Another Coast Guard wife and I rode the city bus to get a glimpse of New York in the mornings; our husbands had only weekend passes and two hours of freedom in afternoons. We walked miles enjoying festive holiday decorations and store windows. One morning we went into Saks Fifth Avenue just to see how the other half lived. Everything was expensive, of course, but I bought a lush, colorful washcloth for 50 cents. That was extravagant, but I was delighted that it was in a “Saks Fifth Ave.” bag.

Chub agreed that this 50-cent gift, in its prestigious bag, would be appreciated by friends at home. “We’ll go back on my day off to buy more washcloths,” he said. That’s how we happened to be on the spot when a history-making event occurred on one of New York City’s busiest street corners.

On Saturday morning we stepped out of the subway exit and stood in a light drizzle, gawking at the skyscrapers. The top of the Empire State Building disappeared into the clouds. Then we stepped into Saks and stopped at the first counter to look at the wristwatches.

Boom~! The earth must have shaken under our feet with that loud noise. Just outside the store a woman stared at the sky, frozen by horror. She stood motionless, one hand to her mouth. We ran out asking, “What happened?” She didn’t know. Hundreds of customers, clerks and others came out of the buildings on that busy corner. All of us, strangers of course, became as one closely knit family. We shared our guesses of what terrible thing might have happened. “A bomb,” someone guessed. “The Germans.” “A plane.” “Sabotage.” “Invasion.”

A wisp of smoke came from a window of the Empire State Building up high, almost cloud height. Fire engines arrived, and I was expecting to see tall ladders with firemen crawling up. Instead the firemen went inside and used elevators and stairs. Ambulance attendants ran in with stretchers and big cases. Police cordoned off the streets as emergency vehicles came and went.

“Extra! Extra! Read all about it.” We bought, but there wasn’t much news. Actually, all we learned was that an airplane had slammed into the Empire State Building at a high level. Soon another extra edition told that the plane’s engine passed all of the way through, continued across a street and, I think, landed on the roof of a low building near a parking lot. Ambulances were taking the dead and injured from the building. In a short time, other papers revealed more details: the level of the impact, the number of injured and those presumed dead, etc.

We spent the morning there, shivering from chill and fear, talking with strangers, reading over each others’ shoulders and visiting as we watched and waited. We shared a feeling of camaraderie and of relief that it was not an invasion or worse.

Later I made a trip back to get the 50-cent face cloths. I should have saved some of those newspapers. They would have been better souvenirs than Saks Fifth Avenue bags!