The author is Adam Mayblum, a survivor of the 9-11-01 WTC tragedy.
"THE PRICE WE PAY:
My name is Adam Mayblum. I am alive today. I am committing this to
"paper" so I never forget. SO WE NEVER FORGET. I am sure that this is one of
thousands of stories that will emerge over the next several days and
weeks.
I arrived as usual a little before 8am. My office was on the 87th
floor of The World Trade Center, AKA: Tower 1, AKA: the North Tower. Most of my
associates were in by 8:30m. We were standing around, joking around,
eating breakfast, checking emails, and getting set for the day when
the first plane hit just a few stories above us. I must stress that we
did not know that it was a plane. The building lurched violently and shook as
if it were an earthquake. People screamed. I watched out my window as
the building seemed to move 10 to 20 feet in each direction. It rumbled
and shook long enough for me to get my wits about myself and grab a
co-worker and seek shelter under a doorway. Light fixtures and parts of the
ceiling collapsed. The kitchen was destroyed. We were certain that it was a
bomb. We looked out the windows. Reams of paper were flying everywhere,
like a ticker tape parade. I looked down at the street. I could see people
in Battery Park City looking up. Smoke started billowing in through the
holes in the ceiling. I believe that there were 13 of us.
We did not panic. I can only assume that we thought that
the worst was over. The building was standing and we were shaken but
alive. We checked the halls. The smoke was thick and white and did not smell
like I imagined smoke should smell. Not like your BBQ or your fireplace or
even a bonfire. The phones were working. My wife had taken our 9 month old
for his check up. I called my nanny at home and told her to page my wife,
tell her that a bomb went off, I was ok, and on my way out. I grabbed my
laptop. Took off my tee shirt and ripped it into 3 pieces. Soaked it
in water. Gave 2 pieces to my friends. Tied my piece around my face to
act as an air filter. And we all started moving to the staircase. One of my
dearest friends said that he was staying until the police or firemen
came to get him. In the halls there were tiny fires and sparks. The
ceiling had collapsed in the men's bathroom. It was gone along with anyone who
may have been in there. We did not go in to look. We missed the staircase
on the first run and had to double back. Once in the staircase we picked
up fire extinguishers just incase. On the 85th floor a brave associate
of mine and I headed back up to our office to drag out my partner who
stayed behind. There was no air, just white smoke. We made the rounds
through the office calling his name. No response. He must have succumbed to the
smoke.
We left defeated in our efforts and made our way back to the
stairwell. We proceeded to the 78th floor where we had to change over to a
different stairwell. 78 is the main junction to switch to the upper floors. I
expected to see more people. There were some 50 to 60 more. Not
enough. Wires and fires all over the place. Smoke too. A brave man was
fighting a fire with the emergency hose. I stopped with to friends to make sure
that everyone from our office was accounted for. We ushered them and
confused people into the stairwell. In retrospect, I recall seeing Harry, myhead trader, doing the same several yards behind me. I am only 35. I have
known him for over 14 years. I headed into the stairwell with 2 friends.
We were moving down very orderly in Stair Case A. very
slowly. No panic. At least not overt panic. My legs could not stop shaking.
My heart was pounding. Some nervous jokes and laughter. I made a crack
about ruining a brand new pair of Merrells. Even still, they were right, my
feet felt great. We all laughed. We checked our cell phones. Surprisingly,
there was a very good signal, but the Sprint network was jammed. I
heard that the Blackberry 2-way email devices worked perfectly. On the
phones, 1 out of 20 dial attempts got through. I knew I could not reach my wife
so I called my parents. I told them what happened and that we were all
okay and on the way down. Soon, my sister in law reached me. I told her we
were fine and moving down. I believe that was about the 65th floor. We
were bored and nervous. I called my friend Angel in San Francisco. I knew
he would be watching. He was amazed I was on the phone. He told me to
get out that there was another plane on its way. I did not know what he was
talking about. By now the second plane had struck Tower 2. We were so
deep into the middle of our building that we did not hear or feel
anything. We had no idea what was really going on. We kept making way for wounded
to go down ahead of us. Not many of them, just a few. No one seemed
seriously wounded. Just some cuts and scrapes. Everyone cooperated. Everyone
was a hero yesterday. No questions asked. I had co-workers in another
office on the 77th floor. I tried dozens of times to get them on their cell
phones or office lines. It was futile. Later I found that they were alive.
One of the many miracles on a day of tragedy.
On the 53rd floor we came across a very heavyset man
sitting on the stairs. I asked if he needed help or was he just resting. He
needed help. I knew I would have trouble carrying him because I have a very
bad back. But my friend and I offered anyway. We told him he could lean
on us. He hesitated, I don't know why. I said do you want to come or do you
want us to send help for you. He chose for help. I told him he was on the
53rd floor in Stairwell A and that's what I would tell the rescue workers.
He said okay and we left.
On the 44th floor my phone rang again. It was my parents.
They were hysterical. I said relax, I'm fine. My father said get out,
there is a third plane coming. I still did not understand. I was kind of angry.
What did my parents think? Like I needed some other reason to get going? I
couldn't move the thousand people in front of me any faster. I know
they love me, but no one inside understood what the situation really was.
My parents did.
Starting around this floor the firemen, policemen, WTC
K-9 units without the dogs, anyone with a badge, started coming up as we
were heading down. I stopped a lot of them and told them about the man on
53 and my friend on 87. I later felt terrible about this. They headed up
to find those people and met death instead.
On the 33rd floor I spoke with a man who somehow knew most
of the details. He said 2 small planes hit the building. Now we all
started talking about which terrorist group it was. Was it an internal
organization or an external one? The overwhelming but uninformed
opinion was Islamic Fanatics. Regardless, we now knew that it was not a bomband there were potentially more planes coming. We understood.
On the 3r floor the lights went out and we heard & felt
this rumbling coming towards us from above. I thought the staircase was
collapsing upon itself. It was 10am now and that was Tower 2
collapsing next door. We did not know that. Someone had a flashlight.
We passed it forward and left the stairwell and headed down a dark and
cramped corridor to an exit. We could not see at all. I recommended
that everyone place a hand on the shoulder of the person in front of them
and call out if they hit an obstacle so others would know to avoid it.
They did. It worked perfectly. We reached another stairwell and saw a
female officer emerge soaking wet and covered in soot. She said we could not
go that way it was blocked. Go up to 4 and use the other exit. Just as
we started up she said it was ok to go down instead. There was water
everywhere. I called out for hands on shoulders again and she said
that was a great idea. She stayed behind instructing people to do that. I
do not know what happened to her.
We emerged into an enormous room. It was light but filled
with smoke. I commented to a friend that it must be under construction.
Then we realized where we were. It was the second floor. The one that
overlooks the lobby. We were ushered out into the courtyard, the one where the
fountain used to be. My first thought was of a TV movie I saw once
about nuclear winter and fallout. I could not understand where all of the
debris came from. There was at least five inches of this gray pasty dusty
drywall soot on the ground as well as a thickness of it in the air. Twisted
steel and wires. I heard there were bodies and body parts as well, but I
did not look. It was bad enough. We hid under the remaining overhangs and
moved out to the street. We were told to keep walking towards Houston
Street.
The odd thing is that there were very few rescue workers around. Less
than five. They all must have been trapped under the debris when Tower 2
fell.
We did not know that and could not understand where all of that
debris came from. It was just my friend Kern and I now. We were hugging but
sad. We felt certain that most of our friends ahead of us died and we knew
no one behind us.
We came upon a post office several blocks away. We
stopped and looked up. Our building, exactly where our office is (was), was
engulfed in flame and smoke. A postal worker said that Tower 2 had fallen
down. I looked again and sure enough it was gone. My heart was racing. We
kept trying to call our families. I could not get in touch with my wife.
Finally I got through to my parents. Relieved is not the word to
explain their feelings. They got through to my wife, thank G-d and let her
know I was alive. We sat down. A girl on a bike offered us some water. Just
as she took the cap off her bottle we heard a rumble. We looked up and
our building, Tower 1, collapsed. I did not note the time but I am told it
was 10:30am. We had been out less than 15 minutes.
We were mourning our lost friends, particularly the one
who stayed in the office as we were now sure that he had perished. We
started walking towards Union Square. I was going to Beth Israel MedicalCenter to be looked at. We stopped to hear the President speaking on the radio.
My phone rang. It was my wife. I think I fell to my knees crying when I
heard her voice. Then she told me the most incredible thing. My partner who
had stayed behind called her. He was alive and well. I guess we just lost
him in the commotion. We started jumping and hugging and shouting. I told
my wife that my brother had arranged for a hotel in midtown. He can be
very resourceful in that way. I told her I would call her from there. My
brother and I managed to get a gypsy cab to take us home to
Westchester instead. I cried on my son and held my wife until I fell asleep.
As it turns out my partner, the one who I thought had
stayed behind was behind us with Harry Ramos, our head trader. This is now
second-hand information. They came upon Victor, the heavyset man on the 53rd
floor. They helped him. He could barely move. My partner
bravely/stupidly tested the elevator on the 52nd floor. He rode it down to the sky
lobby on 44. The doors opened, it was fine. He rode it back up and got Harry
and Victor. I don't yet know if anyone else joined them. Once on 44 they
made their way back into the stairwell. Someplace around the 39th to 36th
floors they felt the same rumble I felt on the 3rd floor. It was 10am
and Tower 2 was coming down. They had about 30 minutes to get out. Victor
said he could no longer move. They offered to have him lean on them. He
said he couldn't do it. My partner hollered at him to sit on his butt and
schooch down the steps. He said he was not capable of doing it. Harry told my
partner to go ahead of them. Harry had once had a heart attack and
was worried about this mans heart. It was his nature to be this way. He
was/is one of the kindest people I know. He would not leave a man behind. My
partner went ahead and made it out. He said he was out maybe 10
minutes before the building came down. This means that Harry had maybe 25
minutes to move Victor 36 floors.
I guess they moved 1 floor every 1.5 minutes. Just a guess. This
means Harry was around the 20th floor when the building collapsed. As of
now 12 of 13 people are accounted for. As of 6pm yesterday his wife had not
heard from him. I fear that Harry is lost. However, a short while ago I
heard that he may be alive. Apparently there is a web site with survivor
names on it and his name appears there. Unfortunately, Ramos is not an
uncommon name in New York. Pray for him and all those like him.
With regards to the firemen heading upstairs, I realize that they
were going up anyway. But, it hurts to know that I may have made them move
quicker to find my friend. Rationally, I know this is not true and
that I am not the responsible one. The responsible ones are in hiding
somewhere on this planet and damn them for making me feel like this. But they
should know that they failed in terrorizing us. We were calm. Those men and
women that went up were heroes in the face of it all. They must have known
what was going on and they did their jobs. Ordinary people were heroes
too.
Today the images that people around the world equate with power and
democracy are gone but "America" is not an image it is a concept.
That concept is only strengthened by our pulling together as a team. If
you want to kill us, leave us alone because we will do it by ourselves.
If you want to make us stronger, attack and we unite. This is the ultimate
failure of terrorism against The United States and the ultimate pricewe pay to be free, to decide where we want to work, what we want to eat,
and when & where we want to go on vacation. The very moment the first
plane was hijacked, democracy won." |
