Istoriya of a Photograph | 04
Written by Yusif Babayev
The year was 2001. On the serene morning of September 11, the world watched in stunning disbelief as two commercial airliners slammed into the World Trade Center towers in New York City. Below, on the streets, the air filled with the sounds of sirens, screams, and the unsettling rumble of destruction. Above in the floors consumed by fire, hundreds of people were trapped with no way out. The stairwells were gone, and the heat was becoming unbearable.
From the ground, Associated Press photographer Richard Drew was working, his camera aimed at the unfolding disaster. As he documented the chaos—the smoke, the damage, the falling debris—he began to see a few, then more, then dozens of people appearing at the broken windows of the upper floors. They were jumping, choosing a quick end rather than being consuming by the flames. It was in this awful moment that his camera’s lens focused on a single figure.
The man was failing straight down, headfirst, his body a clean, perpendicular line against the vertical grid of the North Tower’s facade. He appeared in the frame for a mere fraction of a second, his arms pinned to his sides as if in a formal, final dive. The moment was surreal, a silent and impossible act of despair and surrender captured in the midst of a violent, fiery chaos.
Click
The shutter snapped, freezing that profound, anonymous moment for all time. “The Falling Man” would become one of the most haunting photographs of the 21st century. It was an image that was met with controversy and often censored, as it was too difficult for many to face. Yet, it became an unavoidable symbol of the horrific, private tragedies of that day, a grim and powerful testament to the lives lost in the most unimaginable circumstances.