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Joyce Ng - Founder & creator of site (hotel guest - Room 1335)
I was on the 13th floor of the World Trade Center Marriott Hotel when the first plane hit the North Tower. I was getting ready in the hotel room to head for work at 50 Broad Street, a few blocks from the World Trade Center. It seemed like a regular day on the morning of Sept 11, 2001. All of a sudden, I heard an immense explosion. The explosion was so powerful, it rocked the building and my entire room shook. I did not know what it was. I thought it might have been an earthquake or a construction accident. I ran out to the hallway to find some news & saw no one.
I called the front desk - lines were busy. I finally looked out the window - what I saw was unimaginable horror. Fiery debris was raining outside my window. I saw a blizzard of glass, paper, debris and chunks of metal avalanching to the ground into the plaza between the two towers. The explosion had sent burning debris & glass to the plaza below. I saw scores of people running for cover. I saw other people collapse as they were hit by flying debris. I was shocked and horrified as I watched from my room as people ran for their lives, got hit by debris and were injured or killed. More thunderous explosions erupted as additional large chunks of building fell outside my window & came plummeting down to the plaza. Pieces of metal the size of couches fell right in front of my eyes as I looked on in horror. I became terrified the debris would crash right into my room so I ran to the bathroom. My heart was racing - I thought my life was over. I heard a woman in the hallway yell, "Get out of the building!" I went out the hallway & saw a tall blond woman yelling, "Get out of here!" Some people started coming out of their rooms, confused. At this point, I still didn't know what was happening but I grabbed my wallet, phone & went to the nearest stairway. Only a few others followed. The tall blond woman kept stopping on each floor to warn others. I asked her what was going on. She just kept screaming, "Get out of the building!"
I continued my way down the stairs & was the first to reach the first floor. The only exit on the first floor was a glass door leading to the plaza. Unfortunately, it lead to the plaza between the twin towers where it was still avalanching thick dust, paper, glass shards & metal chunks - we couldn't leave through that door or we would have been killed by the falling debris. Fear consumed me for a few seconds with the thought of not being able to get out of the building. I went back up the stairs. I took a chance & got off on the 3rd floor & luckily, it was the hotel lobby. A security personnel was directing people out. Along with numerous of other people, I walked out the building. The first person I noticed outside was a police officer. He screamed at us,"Get out of this area & don't look up!"
"Get out of the area and don't look up, get out of the area-don't look up "- these words rang in my ears as I walked away. I tried to use my cell phone but all connections were busy. As I crossed the street, I turned around & looked up at the World Trade Center - unspeakable horror loomed above me. Flames were bellowing out from the top floor windows of the first tower. I watched in shock as the World Trade Center burned. It was an inferno. I felt a wave of sadness as I realized all the people in those top floors were burning and dying. Then, I saw bodies coming out the windows & falling to the ground. People stopped & stared and could not peel their eyes away from the scene. For me, the carnage in the plaza earlier in addition to the falling bodies from the building was too much to handle. I looked away & kept walking. I couldn't bear to look anymore at the looming death all around me. As I walked, a large plane flew over me. For a second, I felt relieved because I thought it was the US military Air Force making its way to rescue the people in the burning tower. Then I heard people wondering why a passenger plane would be flying this low towards the World Trade Center. That was when I heard a deafening crash in the sky - the plane had crashed into the second tower. The ground seem to shake with the crash. The streets were filled with screams and everyone started running. It felt like the end of the world.
I was scared for my life. I started running and looking frantically for cover. Everyone was running for cover - behind cars, in buildings. I ran so fast, I dropped my credit cards from my wallet. A man with a British accent picked up my credit cards, ran after me to give them back. I knew I needed to get underground. I ran and ran, sometimes it seem in circles. I ran until I came to a subway station. I got on the No. 5 train at Bowling Green. In the train, I met a man whose eyes were damaged from the flying debris. He just wanted to go home and see a doctor to treat his eyes. It was only at that point, in the subway on the No. 5 train going uptown that I found out the towers were attacked by hijacked planes taken over by terrorist. It has been 3 days since this horrific event.
It took several hours after the attack for the trembling to stop & my heart to return to a normal rate. I am never going to forget what I saw - the images of carnage & people dying are etched in my brain. I have not been able to sleep peacefully without hearing the screams and the explosion & seeing the carnage in my head. I cry when I watch the news. I left behind my luggage in the hotel - it is now covered in the ruins of the World Trade Center collapse. Buried in the rubble are my luggage, my clothes, my backpack, my laptop & notebooks. I lost these items in this horrible event. However, I am grateful that these items are the only thing I lost - I did not lose my life.
I am grateful to the tall blond woman who adamantly went to every floor yelling for everyone to get out of the building. I am grateful for the British man in the suit who picked up my credit cards & ran after me to give it back. I am thankful for Marriott Marquis who allowed me into their ballroom shelter with the rows of rollaway beds after being refused by a dozen hotels & after wandering the NY streets for 8 hours looking for a place to stay. I am grateful for the people on 49th street who hugged me & asked if I needed money or help after hearing my story. Peace to the survivors. My heart goes out to everyone who has lost or is missing loved ones.
Joyce Ng
9/14/01
Jerry Meza - Hotel Employee (audio visual technician)
I worked in WTC 3 , better known as New York Marriott World Trade Center. My
office was between the first and second floor. I am an audio visual
technician. I started working at the World Trade Center in February of 2001. On
September 11th I arrived to work around 7 am to find that the valet department didn't
have my suit dry cleaned and ready for me, so i called my manager from the
basement and told him the situation, he said to clock in and come upstairs. not
having the proper attire to work on the floor i worked in and around the office
cleaning and organizing supplies. we spoke for about an hour about the
weekend that just passed, we were becoming good friends since we had the same taste
in music and shared a strong work ethic.
His name was Abdu Malahi he was 37 from Yemen, had two sons and a wife. As i
was walking through the office chatting with my other manager Laura, she had
mentioned to me that the hotel for the first time in a long time was at 100%
occupancy, then the initial crash, sounded like a refrigerator fell from the sky
and hit the other side of the ceiling. We all stood up and looked at one
another completely stunned. About 2 seconds of silence, then the same sound
continued for about as long as it took me to leave the building (approx. 1 minute).
Before leaving the office, I thought of my friend Ish on the 3rd floor, so I
turned back and grabbed a walkie-talkie and called for him. My voice was so
frantic that my manager Laura told me to calm down and not to panic. As we headed
down the stairs, Abdu noticed he was barefoot and had left his shoes
underneath his desk, so he turned back to get them. Laura and I continued down the
stairs and headed into the lobby where over a thousand people were clearing out
of the ballroom.
It was panic and chaos running through the hall and people were falling on
each other. Laura noticed there were people tripping over an easel that had
fallen to the floor so she bent down to pick it up but was unable to do so due to
the amount of people running in fear. Since she was having trouble, I spread
my arms to block off people from running into her. The sign which was on the
easel was under my feet, and there was coffee spilled on it. I knew it was a
hazard, so I tried to pick it up but was also bombarded and a man behind me did
the same as I did before and stopped people from running into me. We threw
these items to the side and continued to run to the nearest exit, which was a
handicapped ramp next to the large revolving door entrance. When I got about 20
feet from the door, I noticed no one was leaving the building. They were all
standing by the door as if scared to leave. So I said in my loud deep announcer's
voice, "PLEASE EXIT THE BUILDING!" And people began to run out and south. I
then realized that north was where I needed to go, because that's where I live.
As I stood immediately outside the doorway, I noticed there were no moving
cars in the road, but there were a few cars that looked abandoned in the middle
of the road, some crashed into walls and other cars. The next thing I noticed
was clicking sounds, like things were falling. As I looked up I saw smoke
billowing from WTC1, North Tower. I put another call into the walkie-talkie to Ish
to say "They blew up the WTC, it's on fire." He asks where I am and I tell
him I'm in the front of the building. Abdu interrupts our transmission and urges
us not to use this radio frequency during an emergency.
As I start running across the street, I noticed a man placing linen over a
man in the middle of the street. I see the man who placed the linen run away
leaving the other man on the ground alone. So I go to the man on the ground and
as I get closer I begin to see that the man's body is completely burned. All of
his body hair was burned off and it seemed as if his eyelids were also burned
off. He was scrunched up in the fetal position with his head a few inched
above the ground. Amazingly he was alive and I told him it was going to be okay.
He replied with an "okay". As debris was continuously falling around us, About
20 feet away I saw the back of an office chair. I went to pick it up to use
as a cushion for under his head. When I picked it up, it was still hot and
singed from what seemed to have been the initial explosion. I run it back to the
man on the ground, I slide it under his head but it doesn't reach. There's
still about a half inch from his head to the cushion. I tell him again,
"everything is going to be allright." He answers, "Allright." I tell him "There's a
pillow under your head, if you want to put your head down." He then says, " I
can't move my head." I then call Ish on the walkie-talkie again asking him to come
to me. he asks me where I am and I tell him I'm outside with a man and I
think he fell from the building. The faint sound of fire engines blaring in the
distance begin to close in. As the first fire truck makes a U-turn on West
Street, I wave him down and direct them to the man on the ground.
I then proceed to run across the street and I go into 1 World Fianacial
Center ran inside and asked the store employees for the nearest telephone. While
everyone around me was running around, there were those few that just stopped
and stared at the burning building. I proceeded down the hall and saw that there
was a line for the 3 payphones, so I kept running and saw a women locking up
her shop. I asked her with tears in my eyes and gasping for breath, "Can I
please use your phone." She unlocked the door and said make as many calls as you
need and she went to another phone to make her calls. I called my sister Tess
who worked in Midtown Manhattan and told her that there was a fire in one of
the Twin Towers or an explosion, I still couldn't tell. She asked me if I was
okay, I said yes, but I'm going home. She asked me repeatedly what had
happened, but I myself did not know. She asked if everyone else was okay, I told her
"people are dead." I then called my girlfriend Wendy in Queens who also did not
know what has just happened. I told her that I was okay and not to be scared,
I would go directly to her house as soon as possible. My 3rd call was to my
uncle Luis' girlfriend Gemma in Astoria and when she heard my frantic voice
rambling on about burning building's, she began to cry and urged me to be careful
and to call back when I arrive safely home. Since the woman owner of the
store was still on the phone, I called my brother David in Miami, who 10 minutes
earlier turned off his radio which was tuned into Howard Stern in order to
complete some paperwork. He pleaded with me to put as much distance as possible
between me and the World Trade Center. He repeatedly told me to go home. I told
him I would go home right now and call him back. I then thanked the woman and
left the store.
I returned to the front of the building where rescue EMT's were unloading
supplies and disbursing them amongst rescuers. One EMT pointed to a man who was
helping another man and asked me, "Run this bag to that man." At the same time
I over heard that a small plane had hit the building. Before this happened and
after I spoke with my brother David, All that was on my mind was to go home.
But when I was asked to help, It made me think about the 1993 bombing of the
World Trade Center. When I first heard about that, I went to the site and
volunteered for 3 days. But all I could help with at first was spreading salt on
the ground for the anticipated snow fall. In the days that followed, I took food
from the then Vista Hotel's kitchen and distributed it to the fire fighter's
and police who were guarding the area in and around the disaster. I thought I
could do more this time. I decided to go back. I had to run through falling
debris to get back into the Marriott. Half way across the street at the U-turn
on West Street, running in the same direction was an EMT with lots of badges.
Seemed like he was of a high rank. I asked him "is there a coordinator or
someone who can tell me what to do, I want to help." He replied, "We shouldn't be
here right now man." As he said that, we heard the roar of an approaching
airplane. We looked up and watched the airplane as it crashed into the building.
Our jaws dropped. We saw the plane enter the right side of the building and a
ball of fire emerged from the left side of the building. We both started to run
away from the building. He dropped his emergency medical supply bag and ran
away from the WTC, I passed the bag and paused. I wasn't sure whether I should
continue running or stop and pick up the bag in case someone needed it. I
turned and picked it up and continued running away. I ran to the garage ramp of One
World Financial Center. When I reached the inside of the garage I stopped and
turned.
With the emergency supply bag on my shoulder, I attempted to call Ish through
the walkie-talkie again. I asked him where he was. He told me the Winter
Garden. I didn't know where that was. Abdu called out on the radio's and told us
again to stay off the walkie-talkie's. I started thinking my friend is more
important to me then emergency protocol. Ish then asked me where I was. Quite
frantically I said "Where the hell can I meet you? I'm across the street from the
Marriott- A 727 just rammed into the building. I'm leaving, I suggest you do
the same." A heavy set African-American NBC camera man knelt down and began to
film me as I yelped into the walkie-talkie. He then turned the camera towards
the burning building. I passed off the bag to another EMT and headed into the
basement looking for a route to the rear of the building , I asked someone
how to get upstairs and he pointed to the elevator , but i wasn't about to get
on an elevator. I was now running around the basement looking for stairwells or
any water fountain, my mouth has never been dryier as i was yelling into the
walkie and running around at top speed. I decided the only way to get upstairs
was to go back outside up the ramp and then over the lawn and into the
building. i was asking around for a water fountain or a bathroom , people directed
me to the other side of the lobby so i ran to it and it was closed so i went to
a back door of a restaraunt and knocked and waited a minute then i ran away
to find water elsewhere then a man opened the door and saw that no one was
there so he went back in , fortunatally the door was slow to close and i ran up to
it a went in and looked around for water he told me to get out of here were
closed and with my hoarse voice i said i need water , he said "no we're closed"
and i pleaded with him to "just gimme some water", so he did and i was on my
way, i ran out of the rear of the building and noticed that the NYPD were not
letting anyone go anywhere towards the WTC they were directing everyone
towards the water and i noticed everyone running south. This didn't make sense to me
because that would leave no place to run, but only to swim. Since I lived in
Queens, which was on the other side of the WTC, I would need to go back
through the area in which the police was directing people away from. Knowing they
wouldn't let any civiIians through, I ran with the walkie-talkie to my mouth
yelling into it but wasn't transmitting so i could seem to be one of hundreds of
emergency management people that were there also not in any uniform but most
had badges hanging around thier necks. I ran up West Street for two blocks and
stopped running and began to just walk fast as I grew tired. I found myself
surrounded by other people with whom Many words were exchanged that were running
north. Ideas and opinions like "this is no accident" and "this has to be
terrorists" and "they are trying to knock down the building's". One man theorized
that the point was to knock the buildings down as it was first planned in
1993. I turned and walked east and came to a major intersection where people were
standing around staring at the burning Twin Towers. I heard children crying as
well adults. I heard loud yelling, things like "oh my God"! "holy sh**"! did
you see that"? "I can't look," "there's another one!" So I turned to see what
they were staring at and saw a slow continious flow of bodies dropping,
jumping and falling from out of the Twin Towers. I thought to myself, what if there
were a third plane, if the second plane had made it through the building it
would have landed where we stood. I got onto high ground, a park bench I think,
and yelled into the crowd from behind, " if there's a third plane, we're all a
f***ing target! Get the hell out of here"!
I got out of there and continued to run north. As I ran, I turned and looked
back and saw that those hundreds of people I just yelled at were all running
behind me. On the sidewalk I saw a woman with her two children and their nanny.
They were standing there, staring at the Towers. I remember thinking, It
breaks my heart to see parents not put their children's best interests first. So i
told her, "get your kids out of here." She said thank you and ran. As if she
was in a trance and the only thing that could get her out of it was some words
of common sense. I continued to run. As I was approaching the corner of an
intersection, I see a taxi. So I wave him down and he signals me to come to him.
As I'm running across the street, another man is opening the back door of
this taxi. He stands there holding it opened for his family who are crossing the
street. I jump in under his arm. He pleas with me to get out, He needs to take
his family out of here. I say, so bring them in. And I jump in the front
seat. The cabbie asks me, "Are you all together"? I tell him, sure. The man in the
back seat asks where I'm going. I tell him, "just tell the cab driver where
you're going as long as it's not here." So we drive. Fortunately for me, he's
going to the Williamsburg Bridge which is in my direction. We drop them off and
continue over the bridge. Traffic was heavy. We pull over so I can use a
phone to call my girlfriend to let her know I was okay after the second plane had
hit & to call everyone and let them know I was still okay and that I was on my
way. I hop back in the cab and we continue on our way , as we drive i lean my
head and just stare at the streets and pedestrian traffic and notice slight
acknowledgement from the general public, people were still just strolling by
carrying groceries and coasting on thier bicycles. At every intersection people
congragated to watch the smoke billow and drift.
The radio in the cab was tuned to 1010 WINS, news radio. I hear news of the
attack on the pentagon and just sat there scared of the remaining planes known
to still be in the air.The cabbie was Carribean i think, English wasn't his
first language, so I clarified what has happened. In the rear view mirror. I
notice the building begin to collapse and turn around to watch it fall. I start
to cry and he pats me on the back and tells me that he has a son in Seven World
Trade Center. He wondered if he was okay. He begins to cry too. Here we are,
two grown men, crying our eyes out in traffic. I ask him if he believes in
God. He says yes. I tell him no matter what, God will take care of all of us. We
continued across the bridge very slowly. When we reach the Brooklyn side, they
cut off all traffic in and out of Manhattan. So we had just made it.
I arrive at my girlfriends house. I gave her the biggest hug ever and cried
in her arms. We then sit on the couch and watch the news as I tried to contact
as many loved ones as I could. That's when we saw the second building collapse
on Television. I didn't know what to think. Trivial thoughts came to mind
like, where will I work now and all my stuff I left in the office, my Puma's and
my CD's. I spent the next two weeks on the phone trying to find out what had
happened to my boss Abdu. I heard many, many versions of what had happened to
him. Some were that he had gotten out and was staying with a friend. Others
were, he was in the hospital and that's why he wasn't heard from and he was okay.
I followed every trail and every story and got to the originator of each
version and found that each one was false. misinformation and miscommunication is
the downfall of our society .My dear friend, Abdu, was missing.
I stopped trying to find out what had happened to him when I realized it was
time to let go.
Soon after, Marriott held meetings. They shared as much information as they
had. We were told that if they planned to build a new Hotel, we would have our
jobs back, if we wanted them. In October, I got a call from the Marriot
Marquis in Times Square. Me and three other associates from the Marriott World Trade
Center were offered full-time positions starting immediately. I wasn't sure
if I wanted to take the job for fear that I would be reminded of this tragedy
daily. I even took graphic arts classes in an attempt to change my livelyhood,
but i love what i do. From September 11th to early January, I spent countless
nights tossing and turning and having the weirdest nightmares one could ever
imagine. It mostly involved falling airplanes crashing all around me.
Everywhere I went I imagined airplanes crashing all around me and planned escape routes
and thought of worst case scenarios. When driving, I notice license plates
that begin with the letters ABU or ADU. Everyday at work, whether I'm coiling
cables or tweaking an audio mixer, I 'm constantly reminded of Abdu.
I heard from another manager Mahendra that he and Abdu ran up 21 stories and
knocked on all the doors and amaizingly people were still sleeping and they
woke them up and evacuated the building ,mahendra was on the south side of the
building and abdu on the north, abdu gave Mahendra his cell phone and he used
the walkie-talkie to communicate with each other(there was a number you could
dial to get onto the walkie's frequency). They got to the second floor Abdu
tells Mahendra that he is with two guests and two firefighters and they are
leaving, then the first tower collapses, crushing the marriott hotel, only part of
the corner of the building survives, it consists of a sales office (3rd floor)
and a large conference room called the Harvest room (2nd floor-plaza
level)when the walls came down Abdu was in the part that was crushed but Mahendra was
in harvest room and had debris all over so he and the people he was with got
out on a giant pole or beam that had fallen and landed on the second floor
reaching to the street level. They climbed on it and crossed it to safety, and
soon after the next tower came down as mahendra reached the hudson river. They
saved about twelve people that day, i guess no matter where you were , you do
what you could do for those who cant.
Iv'e seen a book that had everyone that died in it but didnt find Abdu, i
guess they didnt do enough research for it. There were times when my friends and
family arranged outings where we were all out together . once while driving in
the car, I'm in the back seat leaning my head against the windows, tears
would begin to fall. I can't stop crying. The footage that the camera man had
filmed of me yelling into the walkie-talkie was shown on Television a lot. Some
friends have seen it on NBC, NY1. My brother called me one night and told me he
just saw the footage on Entertainment tonight. if you want you could visit a
link to a time line of events for that day and i come out when the second plane
hits and he says the time is 9:02 am, just go to
www.msnbc.com/modules/wtc/video/standalone.asp
scroll down and look for the picture of the towers burning and click it. My
sister Becky told me there's a song by Linkin Park called "Crawling:WTC
Tribute" so i download it and the audio from that footage is on it. I have an idea of
making a timeline of events of my own using all types of mediums like
animation,computer graphics, and scetches using building scematics. Using photo's
with video while narrating my perspective and experience.
anyway life now is just a never ending attempt to stay sane, or at least seem
like it.
if you have any questions just email me at junglpoppa@aol.com ciao
A Day of Terror: Tuesday, September 11th,
2001
Denise Campbell
Graduate
Student, USC
I arrived in New
York late on Monday, September 10th and went straight to the
Marriott World Trade Center Hotel. The building address is World Trade
Center 3. It is located in the middle of the two towers. When I arrived,
around 9:30-10 p.m., the hotel staff put me on the 20th floor,
which is the concierge level. I took advantage of what I thought was a
benefit and went down the hall from my room to the concierge lounge to get
a drink and read a magazine. Things were quite uneventful that night. I
wandered back to my room, took a bubble bath, put on my pajamas, set my
alarm for 9 the next morning, and called a few people to chat about
arrangements for the next few days. I was planning on being in Boston the
next evening to pick up one of my dear friends Megan who now attends
Harvard. Unfortunately I never made it to Boston. I missed our visit.
The alarm I woke to was much different than that to which I am
routinely roused out of bed each morning. I jolted out of bed at the
moment the first plane hit tower one and immediately thought I had brought
the trend of Richter breaking earthquakes with me from LA. I quickly
grabbed my flip-flops out of my suitcase and picked up my purse. My heart
was pounding but I was annoyed, not fearful at this time. I started out
the door but knew I should call my parents so I stepped into the bathroom
and just pulled the cell phone out of the charger and ran. Shoes and purse
in hand I got to the stairwell and only noticed a few people following me
down. The alarms had just started going off so people were slowly coming
out of rooms and down the hall. We started down the stairs with a few
people but by the time we got to the ground level there were probably 30
people on their way out together. The Marriott staff were lined up and
were telling us in a firm tone to hurry outside due to an accident.
It wasn't until I stepped outside the building (we exited at tower two)
that I realized there was glass everywhere. I put my shoes on and looked
ahead and noticed people on the other side of the street staring above and
behind me. Then, I turned to the right and saw the first building on fire.
The uniformed men signaled for our group to run across the street. As we
started running and my fear starting setting in the man in uniform
screamed "don't look up, run" and then ran himself. A huge noise came--we
ran across the street. That was when I heard and saw the second plane hit
the building directly above where I was standing. There was concrete
evidence that my fear was justified. I started shaking terribly. I can't
explain the explosion--other than comparing it to a human fireball. People
screaming, the sound of enormous breakage, the smell of smoke. Absolutely
terrifying.
Everyone was stunned. It seemed like minutes however I'm sure it was
just seconds that the hundreds of people in the street were frozen, all
staring up at two burning buildings. This is when we, a frightened group
of strangers, all witnessed the people jumping out of buildings afire and
falling to their death. A uniform sigh of terror came from the crowds as
people jumped alone, in groups--such an unimaginable sight to see. Some
speculate that these people were too hot to withstand the fire on the
upper floors of the towers. Whatever the case, it was awful to witness.
Debris from the plane and building started hurling in all directions.
I ran towards the water. My instinct led me to do so.
As I ran a man beside me lost his right arm to a flying piece of
building or plane. He screamed and fell behind. I did not stop. I
couldn't. People were falling down due to injury and possibly to
their death. The pieces of building were flying everywhere. You couldn't
tell who was hurt or dead. I was afraid. I covered my head with my purse.
People were grabbing each other. I grabbed people and people grabbed me.
I'm not quite sure why but I held hands with a few strangers in those
brief moments. I was screaming. Everyone was screaming. I ran.
I found myself moments later in Battery Park where there were many
people on cell phones. It seemed as if no one was able to get through. I
slowed to a quick walk and called my parents. They did not answer. My next
instinct was to call my old boss because he is originally from New York
and I knew he would be able to tell me what to do. I was terrified. Guy
answered the phone and I quickly told him I was in Battery Park and that
planes were hitting my building (I can't remember details on many of these
conversations). I was crying but tried to focus. He told me to go to 61
Broadway (which I'll never forget) and find his brother in suite 1030 on
the 10th floor. He also told me to keep focused and get to
safety. My phone beeped. I just knew it was my parents. Still in a
somewhat hysterical state I answered the phone to hear my best friend Abby
on the other line. I was hysterical. She was on the side of the road in
Tampa Florida where she had just heard the news on the radio. She
had almost crashed her car and was crying. I cried and screamed and told
her I got out of the building and was running to safety. I asked her to
call my parents to tell them. I told her I loved her.
I got off the phone with my boss and had a very brief moment to let
myself know that it had to be now or never. If I did not stop with the
hysterics I might not make it to tell this story. I left my emotion behind
and started to run again.
People were everywhere. Running, screaming, injured, crying, a lot of
blood and unsightly things that I still cannot talk about. I ran to a
police officer and asked him for directions to Broadway. He came in from
Brooklyn and could not give me exact directions. I kept running. I believe
that I ran in a circle around the same area. It was easy to pinpoint the
two infernos--I just wanted to stay away from them.
My pace was slowing to a walk again as I approached a bellhop outside
of a hotel. He gave me directions to Broadway but said I should walk in
the other direction because Broadway was backtracking towards the trade
center. At this point I was determined to make it to the building so I
went back. I saw Broadway. I knew I was safe.
As I approached the corner of Broadway I heard a tremendous rumbling. I
looked to the right and the tower was falling. I looked to the left across
the street and saw 61 Broadway. I made it inside just in time.
There were people in the lobby on the floor. A man yelled for us to get
down and cover our face and head. We stayed down, heard noises and screams
outside, but we did not move. I crouched in beside a few people and stayed
until I saw others move. The air was black outside. There were two exits,
one on each side and you could not see out of either. The air inside was
becoming foggy. It smelled of jet fuel and powder. A very odd smell.
At this point I was nervous again. My thoughts of safety were over. I
didn't know why those planes flew into the building but the people in the
lobby seemed to all know it was terrorism for sure. However, that's all we
knew. There were many speculations as to what was going to come next--.on
ground assault, more planes, bombs--and ultimately that the other building
would fall over and crush us. We could not leave. People were coming
inside our building because of the air quality and the fear of what was
next. We waited.
I tried to use my phone but could not dial. I was shaking too badly. A
man next to me asked if I was all right. I told him I was from LA and was
by myself. He told me to stick with him and that everything would be okay.
He was crying. We were all crying.
Now it was getting hard to see. The air was getting worse and I was
still scared. Richard (the man next to me) and his wife were trying to
figure out how to escape the building. The new men in charge (Manhattan
financial district employees who worked in the building) worked with an
off duty uniform man and got water and rags for all of us in the lobby. At
this point there were still some people going up to their offices. Not an
idea I was even thinking about following. I stayed in the lobby until the
air quality was so bad that Richard moved us to a side room. We sat
together in a circle and I tried to call my parents and my old boss to let
them know I was still okay.
It was at this point that I thought I might not make it through this.
Earlier I was outside. Even though the end result would have probably been
worse I felt like I had much more control of my situation when I was
outside. When we were in the lobby I couldn't see outside. I thought
things were going to hit us and crash into us--I felt very claustrophobic
and wanted off the island.
Soon we heard a rumbling and the screaming began again. We all huddled
around each other and waited. Life was flashing in front of me. People,
things, circumstances, songs. I was terrified. I prayed. I thought that
maybe another plane hit and that the terrorist were on ground and would be
in to get or kill us at any moment. The rumbling stopped and people
came running in. There were injured and non-injured. The police came in to
get the injured and then left as they had many more injured outside.
The air was now very dark inside the building. Richard took off his
suit jacket and cut it into strips for us all to share. The uniform and
businessmen brought us masks to wear. I used the piece of suit jacket, the
mask, and scraps that they had passed out. Richard told us to cover our
masks with water to prevent as much cement from creeping in. I trusted him
fully.
We waited for a while and then the off duty man told us to run to the
ferry and get to Staten island. We had waited long enough to know the
ferry hadn't been bombed. It had already made a few trips. Fern and I
didn't want to leave the building. As claustrophobic as I was I was
feeling better about being there. I didn't want to expose myself to
whatever was out there. However, Richard thought it was the right
thing to do and I figured he knew what he was talking about so I fell into
suit. He made very rational decisions. This was no time to test him just
because I was a little nervous. And he was right. We would make it to the
pier safely.
We covered our faces, walked outside and started for the pier. It
wasn't far away at all. We made it there fairly quickly, got on the pier
and grabbed life jackets. I called my parents and told them I was on my
way to safety. Richard called a friend and asked if we could all stay with
him on Staten Island. We cried as we rode the ferry. I was scared,
thankful, relieved, and confused. Not to mention I was still in my
pajamas.
We got to Staten Island safely and then took a bus to Barry's house
where we all stayed the night. Barry and Kim gave us water, food, and
clothing. We sat silently and then used the phone to call loved ones and
family.
Later we watched television and for the first time we actually
witnessed the trauma we had all gone through together and individually
earlier that day. We cried again, but this time out of pain for the
victims.
I slept at Barry and Kim's house. They have a son. About 2 I think. Let
me correct the way I started this entry. I didn't sleep. Kim gave us some
water. She gave me a pair of sweat pants and a tee shirt and I showered to
get some of the black soot off of me. It was on my tongue and in my nose
and ears. I drank a beer to calm my nerves and we all watched the news.
Kind of silent and shaky. Late that night everyone went to bed. They gave
me the spare bedroom to sleep. I lay down and stared at the ceiling. There
were stars on the ceiling that glowed in the dark. I stared at those stars
all night long. I was very paranoid. Any sound or movement jolted me to an
upright position. It was a long night. I was embraced by strangers but
still felt very alone. I tried not to cry. I hadn't made it to my comfort
zone so I didn't want to break down. I didn't know what was ahead for the
next days so I kept it together. I softly sang songs to myself. Ones that
I know and that comfort me. I prayed. Anything to keep my eyes open until
daylight. Fire, death, and smoke kept flashing in front of my eyes.
9-12
I heard voices downstairs. I heard the little boy giggling and the
comforting noise of early morning cartoons. I got up and went downstairs.
My head was pounding. I realized that I had not had any caffeine since
Sunday night. When I travel I drink lots of water. Kim made me coffee. It
was the best coffee I have ever had. It got rid of the headache. Still in
the borrowed sweat pants and tee shirt I left with Barry and Fern for the
store. I bought some pants, shirts, shoes and a suitcase for my travels --
to where I still wasn't sure. I also got a toothbrush, shampoo,
conditioner, and a few other items. Funny, I didn't even care about size,
color, or style. Amazing isn't it? What's really important in life. I
realized then that my life would be forever changed. Not just by what I
saw and knew I would have to process but also by the day-to-day things
that I place importance on. My priorities had changed immensely.
We went back to the house and I showered again and put on my new
clothes. I never even looked in the mirror. Richard was talking to Ron on
the phone about the train that I would take to get to New Jersey. I
pictured seeing Ron and Chase and felt a sense of urgency to get to them.
We figured out a plan to get me as far away as possible. The plan was to
get to New Jersey as far north as possible so that Ron and Chase could
come to get me. The bridges were still closed in many places, which kept
Ron from driving into pick me up directly. Kim gave me a roll of quarters
and a hug. We were ready to go. I called my parents and told them my
plan.
Barry drove us across the Verazano Bridge (from Staten Island to
Brooklyn). I was nervous again. We saw people all around with blank
expressions on their faces. It was like a city of robots. Expressionless
and amazed at the view of the new city. Richard was trying to calm me by
teaching me the differences between New York accents. He said the easiest
way to remember the Brooklyn accent was to take a regular New York phrase
like "Do you have some coffee?" and add a "fuck you" at the beginning and
"asshole" at the end. So the phrase becomes "fuck you, do you have some
coffee, asshole?" Terrible maybe, but it was my first laugh since
Monday the 10th. A good laugh, and I thought I did it pretty
well.
We got out of the car in Brooklyn at a subway entrance. I shifted back
to a nervous shake. I looked at Richard in question and he quickly told me
the only way to get out of this whole situation was for me to go back into
Manhattan to catch the train. I was mortified. I also knew it was the only
way. Again, I stopped the tears and followed behind him into the
underground.
Richard paid for my subway ticket and we got on. Richard and Fern had
to get off before I did so he (Richard) wrote down my directions on a
piece of scrap paper. I was nervous. I sat in the middle of Richard and
Fern. We were close to each other, just like the day before. I knew when
they got off the subway I would be scared. We met some people with dust on
their shoes and knew they had been in lower Manhattan the day before. A
sweet girl said that she would see me to my next stop. Richard seemed to
like her and trust her so he left me in her hands. I gave them both a huge
hug and cried a small thank you. Words didn't seem close to the thanks
that I felt in my heart. Forever they would be close friends. They
departed and wished me luck.
The new friend took me the rest of the way on the subway--until I
decided that I needed to get off immediately. I was still thinking
earthquakes and was very scared that the underground system would not be
able to withstand the jarring from the attack the day before. We exited at
grand central station and she gave me a few options. She said I could take
the path train, which goes underground through the Holland tunnel. That
was a definite no. She also said I could take the bus from the port
authority, which also went underground through the Holland tunnel. Another
definite no. Finally, music to my ears. She said I could take the ferry to
south Hoboken New Jersey. A perfect idea. It was a long walk but I didn't
care at all.
Red book-bag and mini suitcase in hand and thanked her for her advice
and help, hugged her, cried again and said goodbye.
The walk to the ferry was strange. The first time I had been by myself
since finding my angels the morning before. It was so quiet. There were
probably about 10 people on the street from the subway all the way to the
ferry. Nobody was talking. There were police at every corner. And if you
turned around to look behind you all you could see was the smoke billowing
where the two towers stood just over 24 hours ago. I was frightened and
although I was exhausted I walked hard and quick in hopes to get off the
island again.
I got to the ferry and bought my ticket to south Hoboken where I would
then take a train as far north as possible. I called my parents to tell
them that I was back in Manhattan but would soon be gone for good. Not
planning a trip back there any time soon. While I was on the phone with my
parents I heard them call my ferry. I got off the phone and walked out to
the slip to board. At that time I saw the trucks and gestures coming from
the men already aboard the ferry. That ferry was not to be used for live
passengers. It was to be used to transport bodies out of Manhattan.
Strangers all watched in silence as they brought the truck of blue body
bags across to the ferry. We cried in reverence for them--each of us
imagining how they died--and being thankful for our own lives at the same
time. I was devastated. We were all devastated. The tears came again.
I called my parents back. I needed to hear their voices. It was so
quiet--the only noise was the water breaking on the ferry dock and the
footsteps of the men making the transport. They weren't even talking. No
one was talking. Soon, the ferry that was for regular passenger transport
was back. It was time to go. I was so relieved to get on the boat. I made
a new friend. This lady was an older motherly figure. She sat with me on
the upper level of the ferry and we talked about the day before. She was
on her way home to Hoboken. I was on my way home too--just had a little
longer trip ahead of me.
We sat together and looked across the water as we passed lower
Manhattan and stared in disbelief. How did something so small get out of
that inferno alive. I felt an ache of relief, thanks, and pain all
together. Again, everyone on the ferry was silent.
We arrived in South Hoboken in about 30-40 minutes. I felt safer again.
This new motherly friend took me to the train station. She called Ron with
me and helped him figure out where they could pick me up. We chatted and
stood in line for tickets. They were free. There was no charge for any
train travel that day. A nice gesture for those who had lost their
belongings. I said goodbye to my helpful friend and boarded the train.
Alone again -- but only for a moment.
I sat by a nice woman who was a nurse. She was going home after a long
shift over 24 hours. She was tired. I was tired. We connected. We both had
concrete dust on our shoes and bags under our eyes. We rode the train to
Dover for about an hour and a half. We talked a lot about what had
happened and how we felt. I was beginning to feel the shell shock. I was
overloaded. I didn't know how to feel.
I saw the Dover station and felt a sense of relief. I was finally going
to be home. A home I had never seen before but one that I knew I would
feel most comfortable in.
I said a teary goodbye to the new friend I had been talking to and
walked down the stairs of the train station to the parking lot. Ron and
Chase pulled in just as I got there. My first sign of real relief. I could
let my guard down a notch. The tears came easily and quietly. Ron embraced
me, sat me in the front seat, and we drove away in tears.
We drove to the Poconos. Again, there was a silence. This time though
it was a comforting silence. I was in the hands of old friends. Good
friends.
The mountains were beautiful. Ron and Chase live in a small cabin that
resembles a mountain lodge. Just perfect for healing the soul. I let my
muscles relax. We were greeted by an auburn cocker spaniel Aubry. Just
what I needed. I nuzzled and loved him. He was my new therapeutic
friend.
Chase put my new luggage in the spare bedroom. A perfect cozy room.
My first diet coke. A huge Texas size glass full of ice and soda. Just
what I needed. I called my parents to tell them I had made it a step
further and was feeling much better and could now start processing the
events of the day before.
Ron walked outside with me. Just the sound of crickets in the
background while we talked. Ron was amidst the Kent State Shootings so has
been eye to eye with death before. Although the situation was much
different he knew how I was feeling. Also, being my theatre director, Ron
knows how I think and how visual I am.
This is where the therapy starts--the road to recovery.
Marriott Survivor:
Brad Geyer
To be posted
Hotel Guests Have New Perspectives on
Where to Stay After Sept. 11
By Randy Diamond, The Record, Hackensack, N.J.
Knight
Ridder/Tribune Business News
Jun. 28--It may be in a high-rise hotel with spectacular views, but
Leigh Gilmore would be more than happy if her next hotel room were on the
first or second floor.
Who could blame her?
The Chicago travel company account executive was staying on Sept. 11 in
the 22-story Marriott World Trade Center Hotel, which was between the
north and south towers of the World Trade Center. She came within 90
seconds of her death on Sept. 11, the minute and a half representing the
time between when she got out of the hotel and when the building was
partially crushed by the falling south tower.
She's not the only traveler worried about hotel safety.
Mike Kelly of Ramsey hasn't had any hotel near-death experiences, but
the former frequent business traveler worked in the World Trade Center
seven years ago, and the events of Sept. 11 have made him nervous about
staying in high-rise lodging establishments. So nervous that the Manhattan
executive found a new job after Sept. 11 that cut the dozens of nights he
used to stay in hotels to only a few.
On the occasions he does stay in a hotel, Kelly always asks for a low
floor, something he never previously considered.
"If I have my choice, I want a room on a lower floor close to the
exit," he says. "I feel less vulnerable."
Kelly and Gilmore said they never used to think of the issue of safety
in hotels.
Gilmore says now she will not only make sure she's on a low floor, but
also make sure her hotel has a sprinkler system and an evacuation
plan.
Since Sept. 11, this trend of safety consciousness has spread
nationwide. The experience of Gilmore's company, Maritz Travel, is one
example. It books hotel stays for business travelers working for many
corporations. Gilmore said corporate travel managers are insisting that
their employees be booked only in hotels with sprinkler systems and
adequate emergency plans.
A poll of 500 frequent business travelers earlier this year by
SafePlace, a Delaware company that accredits hotels that meet safety
guidelines, found 94 percent of the travelers said they consider safety as
an important factor when selecting a hotel.
But while more travelers are concerned about hotel safety, the
terrorist attacks have also confused the issue.
Gilmore says she would be dead if she had followed the advice of a
loudspeaker announcement at the Marriott after the first plane hit the
North Tower, telling her to stay in her room. "I'm not alive because of
Marriott," said an angry Gilmore.
Glenn Corbett, a professor of fire safety at John Jay College in New
York, said mid- and high-rise buildings are often not evacuated in
emergency situations because stairways have not been designed to handle a
mass exodus. Evacuations, for example, in the case of fire are usually
confined to the fire floor and several floors above and below it, if the
building has a sprinkler system that can confine the blaze, he said.
The World Trade Center Marriott Hotel was not hit by either of the two
planes that attacked the Twin Towers. Instead, it collapsed partially
after being hit by the falling south tower, with the 110-story mass of the
north tower finishing the job and turning the hotel into a pile of
rubble.
Gilmore said everyone on her floor, the sixth floor, ignored the
announcement to stay in place and evacuated the hotel. Gilmore, who is
disabled and can't walk, said she wanted to do the same, but the passenger
elevators were turned off and she couldn't navigate her motorized
wheelchair down the six stories.
"I must have told between 30 and 60 people, 'Would you do me a favor,
tell them a woman is in a wheelchair on the sixth floor,"' she
recalled.
She said the guests promised they would, but 40 minutes later she was
still in a hallway on the sixth floor with her mother, who was also a
guest, waiting for help.
Gilmore said finally two maintenance men arrived on her floor looking
surprised that anyone was still in the hotel. She said the maintenance men
took her, her mother, and another guest, who had been too afraid to
evacuate, down to the lobby in a freight elevator.
It was just in time. Gilmore and her mother were only several blocks
from the hotel when it partially collapsed.
"If there was anything resembling an evacuation plan, it certainly
never initiated," she said.
In a first-person account last September, another hotel guest,
Bloomberg News reporter Andrew Ward, told how he left his 17th-floor room
after the first plane hit, banging on doors and telling other guests to
ignore the emergency warning system, which "kept telling us to stay in our
rooms."
Eleven hotel guests and two hotel employees died, though it is unclear
whether all the guests died in the hotel or if they were in other parts of
the World Trade Center complex. Marriott International spokesman Roger
Conner said the chain was aware of Gilmore's comments, but could not
respond to them. He said the hotel implemented an evacuation plan and that
900 guests and employees successfully left the hotel. He said he could not
go into specifics.
Corbett, who has testified before a congressional committee
investigating the Twin Towers collapse, said the irony in the trade center
tragedy is that some people who ignored announcements that they didn't
have to evacuate lived, and those who followed instructions died.
He said the policy of not fully evacuating high-rise buildings in
emergency situations is being debated because of the World Trade Center
tragedy. Future building codes may require new high-rise buildings to have
wider stairways, elevators that are fire-resistant, and other enhanced
safety features, he says.
But that's the future. What should the business traveler do on his or
her next trip?
Corbett said the trade center incident was a unique event, hopefully
one that will not be repeated.
He said in a more likely emergency, such as fire, he would follow
instructions to stay in place, especially if a hotel has a sprinkler
system throughout the building.
"The chance of dying in a fully sprinkled building is about zero," he
said.
But ultimately he said people do have to go with their gut.
He said if you decide to make a run for it, you should make sure your
room door is not hot before entering the hallway. In all cases, he said,
remember to bring your room key, so you can get back in your room if
flames or smoke are too intense.
If trapped in a room, Corbett suggests calling the local fire
department and telling them what room you are stuck in.
He also suggests making yourself familiar with where the exits are upon
checking into a hotel, and counting the room doors from your room to the
exit door, just in case you are forced to navigate the hallway without
lights.
As for staying on high floors, Corson says he wouldn't have
reservations in a building with a fire sprinkler system. But he says to
take into account your limitations, and if you have problems getting
around, then by all means go for a lower floor.
That's what Gilmore says she will do.
"I want to be as close to the ground as possible," she says.
-----To see more of The Record, or to subscribe to the newspaper, go to
http://www.NorthJersey.com.
(c) 2002, The Record, Hackensack, N.J. Distributed by Knight
Ridder/Tribune Business News. MAR,
Marriott Survivor: Room 609
Hans Kunnen
Head of Investment Markets Research
I write this from a personal perspective. At 8.45am on September 11,
2001, I was sitting in a National Association of Business Economists
Conference on the ground floor of the World Trade Centre Marriott Hotel,
which was at the base of the North Tower.
When the first plane hit, all we felt was a dull thud, then, a moment
later, the sound of a seemingly distant explosion. I thought it was
earthquake, as the lights and tables shook. Within moments, people
headed for the doors, running for their lives.
I didn't recall it at that the time, but it wasn't the first time the
WTC had been attacked. After a minute or so there only three of us left
in the room. We wandered out to see what had happened.
As I emerged into the hotel lobby, dishevelled and frightened people
streamed into the foyer seeking shelter. They were shocked and some were
injured. Some people, who had been outside when the first plane hit,
were burned by jet fuel and showered by debris.
I knew this was the end my stay, so I went to the lifts to go to my room
and retrieve my luggage. However, as the alarms were sounding, I was
refused entry, and politely asked to leave the complex.
I walked outside toward the Hudson River, and saw a shower of burning
paper swirling in the wind, and a streetscape that resembled a war zone.
It was. It was strewn with rubble, assorted debris and burning cars.
I looked up to where smoke belched from the North Tower. But as I gasped
in awe at the horror, the air was filled with the deafening roar of jet
engines. I watched horrified and unbelieving as this second plane
approached and slammed into the upper floors of the South Tower. Flame,
smoke and glass erupted. Bodies and debris were blown out of the
building and rained down.
From that moment, I did not look back. It was time to get away. My mind
raced: Were more planes were coming? Where would safety be found?
I'd taken the Staten Island ferry from Battery Point, about 700 metres
south, on the previous Saturday, so I fast-walked to the wharf. It
seemed the best alternative at the time. There I joined thousands of
others attempting to escape the carnage and whatever else might be about
to follow. Suddenly, just as the ferry boarding gates opened, there
erupted a thunderous noise.
People screamed. I thought the city was being attacked yet again, and
this time I thought I might die. It was the South Tower collapsing. As
we took our places on the ferry, smoke, ash and dust billowed toward us,
enveloping the ferry; people donned life jackets.
As a Christian, I thought I would be welcomed if knocked on the door of
a church in Staten Island and asked for help. But, amazingly, and in
the spirit of care and goodwill that immediately enveloped New Yorkers
in the wake of the tragedy, a complete stranger, Leslie Castelucci, who
was standing near me on the ferry, asked me (and three others) to join
her family at their home until things were sorted out.
The Casteluccis and their neighbours gave me clothing, and took me in as
if I were a family member. I weep as I remember her act of kindness.
Meanwhile, my wife, Suzanne, was at home in Sydney. She was awoken by
her mother when the first plane hit and, in the cold dark hours
following, watched live on television as the second plane hit and the
towers collapsed. Our three children, thankfully, remained asleep,
unaware of my peril.
Suzanne, of course, knew I was in New York, and vaguely recalled me
mentioning the World Trade Centre. She rang some workmates to ask, and
the confirmed the conference location. When she heard nothing from me,
she began to fear the worst. A friend came round for company, and she
and others prayed for my safety. But mostly she sat in silent horror as
she watched the drama and its aftermath replayed over and again.
I knew I was safe, but she didn't. It was almost four hours after the
attack that I was able to contact her, at about 2.30am (Australian
Eastern Standard Time). The day had been bad for me, but for Suzanne, it
was a nightmare.
Two days later, I headed back into Manhattan, to a hotel close to the
Australian Consulate. I'd lost my passport, airline tickets, cash,
clothing and other personal effects in the inferno, although I did still
have my wallet.
But even that wasn't without drama. Paranoia and extraordinary security
were apparent everywhere. As my bus approached the New Jersey Turnpike,
a major road into Manhattan, it was halted in a traffic jam. We were
told to dismount and find our own way into the city. Just as I alighted,
a police car with sirens screaming pulled over a car just 20 metres from
me. Three policemen jumped out, and at gunpoint ordered the driver out,
a shotgun held under his nose. Just above the suburban rooftops, a
police chopper, hovered.
It was like a scene from a police drama. Having survived September 11, I
didn't want to die in shootout with either a car thief or terrorist, so
I ducked behind a big green Lincoln. But within a few minutes the
hapless motorist (he must have inadvertently run a road block) was
released and we all went on our way.
With the bus a no-goer, I switched modes of transport to rail,
eventually making it to Grand Central Station, the world's largest, in
the middle of Manhattan. Again I was met by police, this time with
megaphones, asking us not to panic but to leave the building as there
was a bomb threat in the station!
As if my nerves weren't frayed enough!
Having organised a new passport and bought a few new clothes I waited
for the airports to reopen. I gave blood. I went to church. I
wandered through Central Park and watched TV. I cried and I prayed. I
dwelt on Psalm 25 and thanked God for keeping me safe. New York was a
hurt and sorrowing place.
It was a week before I finally flew into Sydney and with tears flowing
once again wrapped my arms around my much relieved family.
And what do I make of it now, in retrospect?
Well, I've come to appreciate that any minute might be my last. And if
that's the case, I need recognise the continuing need to "be right" with
my family, my friends and, mostly, with God. Without being crippled by
morbid thoughts, I now try to be more caring toward others and try to
make the most of opportunities I'm afforded.
On September 11, 2001, I almost lost my life, my wife and my children.
But I realise that in this dangerous and uncertain world, where
everyone, it seems, is a target, I could lose them tomorrow. So, every
day, I thank God for them, and despite a busy and demanding career, I
try to give them all more of my attention and time.
WTC Marriott: 20
Guests Missing, 2 Employees
By Melissa A. Winn
The Marriott World Trade Center Hotel in New
York City, destroyed in the September 11 terror attacks, is still missing
two employees and approximately 20 guests. USAE has confirmed that
the two Marriott employees are Joseph Keller, Director of Services and
Abdu Malahi, a 37-year-old from Yemen, who worked in the audio-visual
department at the hotel.
Though Marriott employees would not release
the names or positions of the missing employees, Joseph Spinnato,
president of the Hotel Association of New York City, Inc., sent a memo to
all general managers of member hotels saying, "We regret to inform you
that Joe Keller, Director of Services for the Marriott World Trade Center,
was one of the victims of the September 11th attack on the World Trade
Center."
Lucy Bossert, spokesperson for Marriott
International Inc., told USAE that the company had not been asked
by the families to release the names of the employees and that their
obligation was to protect the privacy of those families.
"What we can say," Bossert said, "is that we
are missing two associates that are valued and loved members of our
families and that our thoughts are with their families and the families of
all victims of this tragic event."
J.W. Marriott, Jr., chairman and chief
executive officer of Marriott International addressed the matter in a
recent company release, saying "The terrorist attacks in New York,
Washington, D.C., and Pennsylvania have been tragic events for our country
and for the world. First and foremost, our thoughts and prayers go out to
all the families and loved ones affected by this horrific event. Two of
our hotels in downtown New York City were directly impacted and we mourn
the loss of two dedicated associates still counted among the missing. I
was very proud of the heroic job our teams at the hotels did in evacuating
guests. We are doing everything possible to support our affected
associates and guests during this difficult time."
Bossert did confirm to USAE that
approximately 20 guests of the World Trade Center hotel are also among the
missing.
"Sadly, it appears that some of our guests
are missing," Bossert said.
She explained that since September 11 the
number of guests missing, reported by families and friends, has fluctuated
and decreased since the initial days. In the last few days, she explained,
the number has also decreased and it now appears about 20 guests is
correct, though Marriott "is hoping the number will continue to
decrease."
Amy Loe, 23, who was working the front desk
at the hotel, told the New York Daily News that the last time she
saw Marriott’s Joe Keller, was when he was trapped in the center of the
lobby with two injured firemen. Keller was calling for help on a
walkie-talkie.
"I’m alive. I’m here with two firemen who
are really badly hurt," he was saying.
"He was only 10 feet away," Loe said. "I
can’t believe I got out and he didn’t."
Keller leaves behind a wife, Rose Keller,
29, and two children, including a 6-month-old daughter Sydnie.
"He was the breadwinner," Keller told the
Daily News. "I was home with the kids. Now it’s me and the kids.
I’ve got to worry about everything."
A memorial service for Mr. Keller will be
held on Saturday, October 20, at 10:00 a.m. at the Church of the
Annunciation in Paramus, New Jersey.
Donn Monroe (hotel guest - NABE)
My name is Donn Monroe, and I was fortunate to survive the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. I was in town on business and was staying at the Marriott hotel for five days leading up to September 11, 2001. I was due to leave for Detroit that morning and woke at 8am to call my daughter to wish her a happy birthday. I then watched some TV and went to take a shower at around 8:45. As I was getting into the shower, I heard a loud "BOOM" and the building shook. Being a New York native, I knew there was no history of earthquakes in the area, so I was puzzled. But I went ahead into the shower anyway.
Those of you who were there will remember that the fire alarm sounded shortly after the first blast. I heard this alarm but was covered with soap in the shower. While I was rinsing off, I heard an announcement come over the loud speaker. I could not hear the words over the shower, but I remember that after the announcement the alarm was turned off. So I assumed the announcement was to ignore the alarm. I didn't know it was a message to leave the hotel immediately. So while guests were leaving the hotel, I leisurely left the shower, shaved, brushed my teeth and began ironing clothes and packing for my trip to Detroit. It was at that time that the second plane blasted into the Towers again. I looked out the window and saw the devastation in the courtyard. I turned on the TV and saw what was happening in the news. But still, I didn't think the towers would fall. So I continued packing my luggage and getting dressed. I called family members to let them know I was ok, and then decided to wait for my limo to arrive at 10:30.
I continued to watch the news until I heard shouting in the hallway. I opened my door, and there was a hotel employee who was running floor to floor, trying to make sure all guests had evacuated. He told me to leave immediately, and I remember a woman opened her door across the hall from me and listened to him also. However, she had on her robe and closed her door. She didn't follow me. The hotel employee took me to the stairs, told me to run down and leave, and then he went back shouting for more guests. The time was around 9:35. I don't know if he made it out because we were on the 14th floor and he still had more floors to go. I went down the stairs and passed a man who believed he pulled a hamstring on the 4th floor. He was heavyset and I couldn't help him alone. So I told him I would get help. When I got down to the mezzanine level, there were around 30 firefighters and policemen there. I told them about the man, and they ran quickly to get him. They also told me to run from the building. I went outside where a police officer told me to run zig zag across the street. I did so as debris and bodies fell around me.
I started to go south and stopped a cab to take me to the airport. The driver told me the airports were closed and asked if I wanted to go anywhere else. I said no and started to walk further southward while the cab drove beside the South Tower, stuck in traffic. I took a few pictures of the towers smoking and then heard a loud rumble as the first tower began to fall. That cab was stuck. I was a block away at this point and thought the building was falling over. I figured I was dead and just froze. But the crowd around me starting running, and I got swept up in the crowd. I ran quickly south to Battery Park and was soon engulfed in the smoke. Two things concerned me immediately: we were obviously under attack, and everyone who was trained in emergency procedures and could lead us just died in that collapse. So the few hundred of us stranded in Battery Park were on our own. I bellied up to the fence that separated us from the river, put my house keys in my pocket (I still had my luggage, by the way), and waited for the sounds of bombs to drop, at which time I was going to jump in the river and swim for it. The smoke was thick and it was difficult to breathe. People had taken off their shirts and were breathing through them. A delivery truck driver was opening cases of DaSani water and passing them out, and everyone was sharing the water. After about 20 minutes, ferries from New Jersey began pulling up to rescue us. I was right in front of the first ferry, and someone helped me climb the fence with my luggage as I got on that ferry. As I sat there, noticing that the smoke was dissipating, there was a loud rumble, people started screaming, and the smoke started coming back heavy again. That's when we knew that the second tower had fallen.
The ferry then left for NJ where I walked around, talking to strangers and finally finding a room at a dive hotel (one of those places where rooms are rented by the hour). I remember the person behind the bullet-proof glass at this hotel asking me what I wanted, and when I told her I wanted a room for a day, she turned and asked the other person back there, "How much do we charge for a whole day?" Anyway, I bought a bottle of champagne and a six-pack of beer from the front desk, turned on the television, and was glued to the news until 3am when I finally forced myself to rest. The next day, I connected with co-workers who also survived the attack, we rented a coach bus (the type used by rock stars), and we traveled back to Dallas on Thursday.
Laurie Torene (hotel attendee - NABE)
CROFTON - Buzz was watching television in an auto repair shop. George
had walked his poodles and was cleaning house. Bob was on the golf course.
Kathleen was teaching her fourth-grade class.
It was another Tuesday in Crofton - one that started out as safe, snug
and serene as any other day in this planned suburban Maryland community, its
entrance marked by brick walls, white iron gates and a duck pond.
But, just as if you were to drop a rock into that pond, the attacks on
the World Trade Center and Pentagon would send ripples through Crofton, as in
towns across America, with ever-widening circles of people realizing that,
if they didn't personally know any victims, they weren't many steps removed
from someone who did.
In Crofton, like everywhere else, connections - close and distant -
would surface; some immediately, some gradually. Some may still lay ahead.
Buzz Zinn would learn that a friend, Ann Judge, travel office manager
for the National Geographic Society, was a passenger on the flight that struck
the Pentagon.
George Laboissonniere would find out that his third cousin, television
producer David Angell, was a passenger on the first airliner to strike the
World Trade Center.
Bob Torene would hear that his wife, attending a business conference in
the World Trade Center complex, escaped unharmed.
And Kathleen Depman, awaiting word from her husband, at work in the
Pentagon, would try to stay focused on her class at Crofton Woods
Elementary School.
"It seems like everybody you talk to knows of somebody who has some
connection," said Laurie Torene, who ran from the Marriott at the World
Trade Center when the first plane hit, eventually making her way home via ferry
boat and U-Haul truck. "It's like `six degrees of separation.' "
Actually, it's even less.
That popular belief - supported by some scientific studies - holds that
anyone on earth can be linked to anyone else by a chain of only six other
people.
Lumping together those who worked in the Pentagon and World Trade
Center, who were on the airliners and who were in the immediately at-risk areas -
probably around 50,000 people - and assuming each had 100 friends and
relatives, the degree of separation between an American and someone
involved in the tragedy is less than two.
Looking just at the more than 6,000 presumed dead, the degree of
separation would be less than three.
As with the Vietnam War, AIDS, or any event or phenomenon involving
tens of thousands of people, nearly everyone in the country knows someone, or
someone who knows someone, who was affected. And the odds increase in certain
smaller circles, such as people living in New York City or Washington, D.C.
Others, meanwhile, having not heard of a personal connection yet, worry
they still might; that as thousands of bodies are discovered and
identified, a name from their past will show up on the list of victims: high school
friend, prom date, college buddy, baby sitter.
"Everybody is probably only two or fewer handshakes away," said Steven
H. Strogatz, a Cornell University professor of theoretical and applied
mathematics who has studied what is also called the "small world
phenomenon."
"Perhaps one of every 50 Americans knows somebody who was either a
casualty or escaped, and pretty much everybody knows somebody who knows somebody,"
he said.
"It's significant in terms of how close we all are to the horror. If it
happens to your friend, that's the most horrible thing of all. If it
happens to a friend of a friend, people still have a pretty clear concept of it.
But a friend of a friend of a friend is really pretty meaningless to us.
"The cutoff between two and three handshakes is right where this
tragedy has occurred," Strogatz added. "It's on the intimate side of the
psychological cutoff, and that might be part of why it's so upsetting - that and the
fact that we all have a friend in the television, and in that way we're all
connected to everything."
Even in a community as insular as Crofton, insulating oneself is
impossible - not just from television images, but from some sort of connection to the
tragedy, even if it is one, two, or even more degrees removed.
No one who lives in Crofton is believed to have been killed in the
attacks.
And despite being heavily populated with government, military and
intelligence workers, there were no reports of any serious injuries among its
residents.
Still, this small unincorporated community, where they once locked the
gates at night and where flags fly year-round, was far from untouched.
At Crofton Woods Elementary, fif |
