This is a long post, however, it is worth reading. TV and radio cannot do
justice to what is ultimately the experience of individuals.
I thought I was done sobbing until I saw this in my Inbox this morning so be
prepared. (The original sender is a friend of mine who lives in Brooklyn.)
PJ.
----- Original Message -----
Sent: Wednesday, September 12, 2001 11:29 PM
Subject: [lofm] A Survivors account
Below is an email from my son's friend. It is a first hand account of his
ordeal at the WTC. It is long, yes. It was a long experience. I offer this
to you on his behalf and ask that you forward it to others. You may email him
with your thoughts if you wish.
From: "Adam G. Mayblum" <Mayblum65@e...>
From: "Adam G. Mayblum" <Mayblum65@e...>
Subject: one survivors story...
Date: Wed, 12 Sep 2001 21:15:29 -0400
THE PRICE WE PAY: My name is Adam Mayblum. I am alive today. I am committing
this to “paper” so I never forget. SO WE NEVER FORGET. I am sure that this
is one of thousands of stories that will emerge over the next several days
and weeks. I arrived as usual a little before 8am. My office was on the 87th
floor of 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 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
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