Twenty-three seconds later the south tower collapsed in a huge ball of dust and smoke. I photographed the collapse with the helicopter pulling away from the towers. Stunned New Yorkers groaned, screamed, cried as they watched a distant cloud of dust obscure the sky. My spirit groaned as I realized thousands of lives had been lost in that moment. (We were told that 50,000 persons worked in the two towers. I again asked the Lord to provide comfort and a way out for them.)

The mood in the crowd changed from shock to fear. Radio reports blared alarming news and people in the crowd shared their own fears: “A jetliner has hit the Pentagon and another jet is in the air headed toward Washington. We don’t know if there are any other aircraft headed toward New York.”

“The jets that hit the World Trade Center were carrying out a terrorist attack. We don’t know if they were carrying any chemical or biological agents on board.”

“The towers were designed to withstand the impact of a jet, but if they topple, the domino effect to adjoining buildings in the whole financial district will be catastrophic.”

I started thinking of my own safety. “Let’s see, I’m seven blocks away, the north tower is over 105 stories at 20 feet per story, so if it falls toward me, I should be OK because I’m still several hundred feet away.” The Holy Spirit immediately convicted me that I was trusting in myself and not in the Lord. I asked for forgiveness and strength to report what He wanted me to report.

I took several more pictures of the smoldering north tower and noticed what I thought were small pieces of the building siding falling. (Hours later as I was editing and enlarged the images, they turned out to be people falling to their deaths.)

I heard a scream, saw a bright explosion of jet fuel from the north tower and watched the upper floors collapsing, cascading downward. I got one frame of the explosion, then the cloud of dust, which caused the lens to ratchet back and forth trying to find something of contrast on which to focus. I dropped my telephoto and fired 5 frames with a wide angle at my side as the building dropped and the large cloud of dust/smoke started approaching us, filling streets, as it got closer.

“Forget the pictures, run north,” yelled a police officer, as crowds of panicked, crying New Yorkers fled toward me, attempting to outrun the approaching dust cloud. I walked south.

In the four minutes after the north tower fell, I photographed a steady stream of stunned victims emerging from the cloud into my viewfinder: a wild-eyed man, barefoot, with a bloody shoulder; a policeman holding a little girl and escorting her mother to safety, a dust-covered security guard overcome with grief, holding his head in disbelief. The emblem on his jacket showed the twin towers and said “World Trade Center Security.” How ironic, I thought. In this world there is no security.

It’s been nearly five months since this tragedy and we have learned many lessons

First, we must measure our riches in relationships. I heard the story of a quadriplegic trapped in the upper floors of one of the towers, unable to escape. His friend could have escaped but decided to stay with him, not wanting to leave him alone. I have to believe this man was a Christian, as they talked about the things of God, waiting for the angels to come. It is the same with Jesus by our side, wanting to be in relationship with us and not wanting us to enter eternity alone.

After 9/11, I enlarged each frame I shot of people falling to their deaths in that 30-minute period after the first tower had collapsed. If I had been in the north tower and seen the south tower collapse, how would I have spent the next 30 minutes with my co-workers? What would I have talked about?

Secondly, we must not be afraid to do what is right. Several of the passengers who rushed the hijackers on the fourth plane in Pennsylvania were Christians. They were secure in their relationship with Christ and could therefore risk their lives to save others without fear. Christians in America have suffered relatively little compared to our martyred brothers and sisters throughout the world. We must be willing to share in this suffering so others can see Jesus in us as we go through difficulties.

Our busy lives came to a screeching halt in the few weeks following 9/11. There was a certain sweetness in the tragedy as we slowed down, simplified our lives. No air travel, no football games, just spending more time in relationship with one another. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we decided to stay in that mode, more like Mary at the feet of Jesus than like Martha banging pots and doing the work?

I say I love Jesus but how much time did I spend with him this morning, reading His Word and allowing Him to speak to me? No guilt trip intended here, but if we start spending more time with Jesus, we might find actually find ourselves spending less time going to church or doing religious things because we will be satisfied with Jesus alone. The tragedy of 9/11 can actually be an opportunity for us to once again draw close to the One who loves us immeasurably.