 Coping
with the 9.11.01 Aftermath
Accounts of Survivors
The Price
We Pay: A
Survivor's Story
By Adam Mayblum.
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 1 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 two 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, my head 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 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 bomb and 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 10 am
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. Relived 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 Medical Center 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 lead 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 price we 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.
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