David Friend–Watching the World Change: The Stories Behind the Images of 9/11–Videos
Authors@Google: David Friend
The attack on the World Trade Center was the most watched event in human history. And the footage seen of that day came not only from TV cameras, but also from workers, tourists, and passersby, each of whose lives would change dramatically when confronted with the sight of the attacks. David Friend has uncovered the stories behind those images–from the street-level shots of the north tower crumbling to firefighters raising the American flag over the rubble. In Watching the World Change, he traces the images back to their sources and charts their impact over the next seven days. That week was the beginning of a digital age, a moment when all the advances in television, photography, and the Web converged on a single event.
David Friend is Vanity Fair’s Editor of Creative Development.
This event happened on September 5, 2007 at the Google NYC office
“I PHOTOGRAPHED MOHAMMED ATTA”
In January, while giving a talk about my book at the 2007 FotoFusion festival in Delray Beach, Florida, I fell into conversation with Art NeJame, one of the organizers of the annual slate of workshops for members of the photo community. Art told me a mesmerizing story of how he had come to encounter four of the September 11 hijackers — more than a dozen of whom had lived in South Florida during their preparation for their “mission.” It all happened because of a passport photo.
9/11 The Falling Man
INSIDE 9/11 : ZERO HOUR (PART 1 of 4)
“…Minute by minute documentary about September 11 2001 and the terrorist attacks that day. It contains tons of footage from the WTC impacts and collapse as well as the pentagon.It contains interviews with survivors and actual recordings from the WTC , passengers, flight crew and the terrorists on the planes. This is a National Geographic Channel documentary from 2005-06 …”
INSIDE 9/11 : ZERO HOUR (PART 2 of 4)
INSIDE 9/11 : ZERO HOUR (PART 3 of 4)
INSIDE 9/11 : ZERO HOUR (PART 4 of 4)
The Falling Man
“…Do you remember this photograph? In the United States, people have taken pains to banish it from the record of September 11, 2001. The story behind it, though, and the search for the man pictured in it, are our most intimate connection to the horror of that day. …”
By Tom Junod
“…In the picture, he departs from this earth like an arrow. Although he has not chosen his fate, he appears to have, in his last instants of life, embraced it. If he were not falling, he might very well be flying. He appears relaxed, hurtling through the air. He appears comfortable in the grip of unimaginable motion. He does not appear intimidated by gravity’s divine suction or by what awaits him. His arms are by his side, only slightly outriggered. His left leg is bent at the knee, almost casually. His white shirt, or jacket, or frock, is billowing free of his black pants. His black high-tops are still on his feet. In all the other pictures, the people who did what he did — who jumped — appear to be struggling against horrific discrepancies of scale. They are made puny by the backdrop of the towers, which loom like colossi, and then by the event itself. Some of them are shirtless; their shoes fly off as they flail and fall; they look confused, as though trying to swim down the side of a mountain. The man in the picture, by contrast, is perfectly vertical, and so is in accord with the lines of the buildings behind him. He splits them, bisects them: Everything to the left of him in the picture is the North Tower; everything to the right, the South. Though oblivious to the geometric balance he has achieved, he is the essential element in the creation of a new flag, a banner composed entirely of steel bars shining in the sun. Some people who look at the picture see stoicism, willpower, a portrait of resignation; others see something else — something discordant and therefore terrible: freedom. There is something almost rebellious in the man’s posture, as though once faced with the inevitability of death, he decided to get on with it; as though he were a missile, a spear, bent on attaining his own end. He is, fifteen seconds past 9:41 a.m. EST, the moment the picture is taken, in the clutches of pure physics, accelerating at a rate of thirty-two feet per second squared. He will soon be traveling at upwards of 150 miles per hour, and he is upside down. In the picture, he is frozen; in his life outside the frame, he drops and keeps dropping until he disappears.