Elia Zedeno, 46, was working as a financial analyst when she escaped from the 73rd floor of the World Trade Centre's north tower after the first plane hit 20 floors above her. She also survived the 1993 terrorist bombing. Today, she leads tours at Ground Zero. When I came out of the long stairway down and was able to look out of a window for the first time, it was weird. I said to myself: 'Look at all those things flying around and on the ground, and look at all the colours.' But it was the wrong colour for the trees and the shapes were all wrong. Suddenly I realised what I was seeing. I was looking at bodies, lying all around. And the colour was red. It was blood. Some days it's easy to tell the story of what happened that day, and some days it's hard. I never really know until I start telling it. But I think it's important for people to get an accurate depiction. A lot of people who come to the site only really see the vendors selling their photographs, and a lot of them will say whatever they need to make a sale. When the aircraft hit the tower, I thought it was an earthquake. The first thing that came to mind was 1993, when I was trapped in an elevator after the bomb went off. When I got home that night, I didn't have my keys, so this time I grabbed my bag and started looking for things to take with me. I picked up the book I was reading and thought: 'Looks like we're going to get off early today. I'll have something to read on the train.' I kept going around in circles and ended up in such a frenzy, until one of my co-workers just said: 'Get out.' And I went after him. I was panicked, I was screaming 'Not again, not again, please God, not again!' I was running down that first flight of stairs. When I got to the 72nd floor, one of my colleagues saw me running like a mad person and he ran after me. He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me. From that point I was calm. I realised that if I was going to make it out alive I'd have to be calm. There was a man holding a screaming woman who came from a floor above me. He had blood on his forehead and I couldn't tell if it was his or somebody else's. He kept saying to her, 'We're the lucky ones', and I remember thinking: 'What in the world has this woman seen for him to be saying this to her?' But it struck me how calm people were. On the way down, a new worker in my office came up to me smiling and said: 'This is a good time to come and introduce myself.' That gives you an idea of how it was going down. It was one nice thing about that day, but kind of weird too. On the ground I heard rumbling and felt vibrations so I ran back inside. It probably saved my life because had I known a building was coming down I would have tried to run across the street. The sound was so loud, like thunder close to you. Then there was silence, so great that I thought I was dead. I couldn't breathe and there was something in my mouth and I kept pulling and pulling to get it out. I saw flashlights and realised there were police officers and firemen, and I was safe. After I got home that night, I took everything off in my garage and my sister threw it out. It took a year before I could look at the city skyline and not expect the towers to be there, and I can only now look at an aircraft and not picture it blowing up. I've had counselling and a turning point was realising that I was trying to go back to the person I was before. Now I accept that it's OK to have feelings and that real power comes from accepting and dealing with them, no matter what they are.
