----- Original Message -----
Sent: Wednesday, September 12, 2001 4:03 AM
Subject: Dear Diary... Sept. 11. 2001
I'm alive.
That should say it all... but it misses by a mile. So
many emotions and I expect tomorrow to be the hardest... when I start to find
out which friends I won't ever see again.
I had a meeting on Long Island and was too tired to get out of
bed. I came very close to just driving directly to Long Island but forced
myself to make it in to the office first... just for an hour or two. For
some reason, I didn't park in the usual (open air) lot adjacent to the World
Trade Center. I figured I would save a couple of Kemper's dollars and walk
a couple of blocks. I told the garage attendant I would be back around
10:30.
Up to the office on what used to be the 36th floor of what
used to be One World Trade Center. Business as usual. Adrian Oddi
was in from the Jersey office. I had too much to do to even tease him
about showing up in NY. Cindy and Aklima hadn't yet made it in.
Pretty much a normal mid-week work day.
8:30 I call home to see if I can catch Melody and Lara
before they head out for school. As usual I get the machine. I
ramble long enough for someone to pick up. Today it works. Lara
answers. My morning is brightened by our little conversation. After
telling each other that "I love you" she asks if I want to talk to Mommy.
I tell her no. I'll talk to her later.
The computer is booting up as I update my voicemail message
for the day. I go to the file area to hunt for the files of the
moment.
I have a few files in my hand and am silently cursing the fact
that I can't find a few others when
Whump!!
The noise is loud and distant but ominous. The buildings
are designed to sway in high winds but this felt like a giant fist of God had
slammed us to the side. It almost feels like the building was going
to slowly topple right then.
First thought. Bomb? Plane?
Whatever it was... the building did not just "sway" back into
a normal position. The whump turns to a lingering rumble as the plane
continues to blast through the building and the fireball explodes. A
harmonic resonance seems to have started. It feels like an earthquake and
looks like files and cabinets may begin toppling.
The unnatural and strong swaying and rumbling earthquake
continues for what felt like more than a minute. Adrian is out of his
office. I'm out of the file area. Everyone else in our area is
suddenly gathered in front of the main work space.
Earthquakes do not occur in just one building. The rain
of glass and debris from above roars outside of our own windows. At this
point, I am convinced the building is going to fall and that we are going to
die. I'm thinking "How many seconds will it take?"
Someone asks, "What should we do?" but they know the
answer. We all head for the exit nearby.
We are about five floors down before the first alarms are
heard. Somehow the shaking stopped and we feel like everything is going to
be OK for us. We and others in the stairs finally voice our thoughts of
death and start guessing that it was likely a plane... because of the glass from
above.
People were great. When workers diving into the
stairwell from another floor look panicked and could start a
stampede... we directed them to slow it down. At other times,
we got people to keep it moving. Various little emergencies on the
stairs got handled together.
Things start slowing down because of the crowd. We start
to smell smoke. Maybe it was a bomb after all.
Somewhere around 25, we finally see building personnel.
They are directing us onto the floor because the smoke is getting a little
thicker and the air is better on that floor. I'm with Adrian. We
hang close to the door (out of the way) to wait for Kathy and then
Joyce.
I stay by the door. I'm taller than Adrian and could
probably spot Maria and Wanda better if they are still behind us.
People are ignoring the door people and filing past the
floor. We decide... we are going too. Kathy was able to see on a TV
on that floor that it was a plane after all. Terrorists.
Maria and Wanda haven't made it to us yet. With the
other floors merging into the stairwells, they could be a long way behind.
It would only clog the flow to do anything other than keep moving. Keep
moving.
Some floors below, we all make room for some burn victims to
descend past us. There are two of them. They are black from the
burned jet fuel. They look numb. The first looks relatively better
though he holds his arms in front in obvious pain. The second is an
African American woman with blistered and almost "melted" patches on her
face. A large swath of her arm looks Caucasian where her pigmented
skin was burned off. Sheets of it look like they will soon
follow.
As they descend, we are also making a path for firefighters to
ascend. A group of about 12 pass us. We probably made way for them
to die. (I understand 200 of the 400 responding firefighters are dead as I
write.)
The last flights are slippery from the torrent of water
cascading down the stairs. No one is being particular about clothes or
shoes.
We finally splash out of the stairwell into our first view of
the plaza. It looks like a war-zone. Glass, debris, burning chunks
of who-knows-what, ash. We are all on the move. No time (or
inclination) for a closer look. Kathy said she sees bodies.
We shoot across 30 feet of no-man's-land to the overhang of
another building with arms over our heads. We enter and start heading
across the pedestrian bridge to the World Financial Center by the
river.
No one brought anything. Jackets, wallets, keys, etc.
are still 36 floors above. No one has a cell phone to let loved ones know
we are OK.
At this point its Adrian, Kathy, Joyce, and me. We still
believe that Wanda and Maria are somewhere behind us... though it would be
pointless to look for them.
Kathy is obviously shaken by the bodies in the plaza... and by
the jumpers.
"I'm going to look for a phone," I said.
"Call Andrea and let her know I'm OK," Adrian responded.
"Wait! You don't know my number!"
"What town?"
He yells it out... then, "We're listed"
"Got it." I think I yell something about calling everyone as
we part.
I dive into the area by Morans because security isn't tight
yet. No phones.
Security tightens. I can't get back to the others
now.
No place is open. Whatever public phones
are near... are thronged. I think to get to the other side of town to
go to a friend's office to use their phone. I couldn't wait for a pay
phone or the chance of getting answering machines... or other obstacles to
collect calls.
I can't get across right away due to the effective emergency
response personnel now deployed. The city was mobilized as a well
ordered and incredibly efficient team. People were cooperative.
There was no looting or signs of anything other than help or
horror.
I finally see the holes in the building I just came
from. Fire in both buildings.
It finally hits me. I'm not the only one with
tears. I can see the area that those holes and the fire zone cover
and know that hundreds or thousands are dead. How can anyone above those
floors of fire get past them?
"Oh my God!" someone shrieks. "They're
jumping!"
I can't get myself to look. Adrenaline keeps my legs
going. I need to get to my friends at the Fleetwood Agency for their
phone. Amongst all the thoughts and emotions, I keep thinking of Melody
and all of our families who must be going through Hell not knowing.
I still don't know the course of events but think that the
plane that hit our building must have passed through and hit Two World
Trade. The fire at Two looked too low though. From the snatches of
passing conversations, I come to understand that there were two crashes.
(The second must have occurred while we were in the stairwell
still.)
I make it to Fleetwood. They are a mess of
emotion. Whatever composure I had is lost as they tackle me with hugs of
relief and tears. Though Kemper was fine, we are all worried about
others.
Ralph gives me his office to use for calls.
I look at my watch for the first time since 8:30. Melody
has dropped Lara off at school and is probably still home before
work!
We can barely talk between our sobs.
There is a TV on. Between calls and talking with
everyone there... I'm getting the media perspective. It looks so unreal on
the TV. The impact is strong but somehow diluted from the first person
perspective.
I'm on the phone with my sister-in-law Johnna. I can see
the trade center burning as I talk. Debris, ash, smoke. It's already
dusk in lower Manhattan... though it's not yet 11:00am. The clouds of
smoke are flowing East. The TV doesn't see the
perspective I do. Suddenly, I'm distracted from my talking. The
corner windows of Two are starting to blow out in a horrifying "unzipping"
motion from top to bottom. I have no idea what is happening and my first
thought is that the heat has created some kind of domino effect. Then I
see the plume of the top floors collapsing down on the others even as the
horrible "ttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttttt" sound of the
unzipping reaches us. The roar and cloud are too much. I can only
babble to Johnna.
"Oh my God... Oh my God... Oh my God... Oh my
God..."
Johnna sounds frantic to know what is happening too. I
can barely breathe no less speak. Somehow I say something and am diving
out of the room to be with the others. Emotions are high. It gets
dark.
When my old building follows shortly after... it becomes a
dusty night for a short while. The snow that covers everything is soot,
and ash, and powdered concrete. It's thick.
What followed after with my friends at the Fleetwood Agency
was just one of many stories that will be told about coping and somehow getting
people home safely. Tomorrow will be the hard day.
My friends at Aon were on the 92nd floor of #2.
Fortunately, a friend who recently transferred from their NY office to LA told
me that he knows several who made it out. After our building (#1) was hit,
many were told to "sit tight and wait for instructions." I was told that
Glenn Pellitiere, Rob McDonnough, Betty Calderon, Tom Rhatigan and a couple of
others had basically said "Screw that" and started the evacuation on their
own. They made it from what I am told. No word on many
though.
A friend at Marsh told me that some 1,300 to 1,500 Marsh
employees are unaccounted for from our building.
No news on the Fireman's Fund people who just recently moved
into 2.
No news on the RLI guys in 1.
Sounds like a number (if not all) of the Guy
Carpenter people may have been below the main crash like us.
Another friend told me he was held up 15 minutes for a
meeting. He could be another of the Marsh "unaccounted for" if it weren't
for the hold-up. He was walking to our building when he watched the first
plane hit. He saw about twenty people jumping from the flames before going
home.
I'm glad I'm home myself but still coming to grips with it
all. I hate to be un-christian but I
feel anger and the need for
retribution mixed with my other emotions. I was so happy to hear Bush say
that we will make no distinction between the terrorists and those who harbored
the terrorists. IF it turns out that those responsible were shielded or
harbored by a country like... say Afghanistan... then we should go to war and
make that country pay so badly for this atrocity that no one will think to
repeat it. I do not want a protracted war. I said it half-jokingly
to someone that we should drop the bomb in such an instance. The more I
thought of it... the more I actually started to believe it might be the ONLY
response that would serve the purpose of protecting Americans from this sort of
evil again. Anything less might start a Jihad. (What good are
weapons of "deterrence" if they will never be used.)
If my soul is stained by this hope... then so be it. I
would like to hear on the morning news that four bombs have been
dropped. One on Afghanistan, one on Libya, one on Iran and one on
Iraq. Let the world condemn us. I don't particularly care. I
just want to be "safe" from animals like those who are quietly or not so quietly
dancing at this news. I want it to end. I want the world to fear
U.S. retribution so intense that this NEVER happens
again.
Brian St Clair
