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 8:30AM. 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, 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 new 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 3rd 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. 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 wad 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.
