Would like to have seen Traveler check in.
- oldman
Thanks Oldman for thinking of me, not many left these days to be remembered by. I still feel the rage. That moment when we all realized it wasn’t just an unfortunate accident and we as a nation were under attack. My company, my business was fairly new to The World Trade Center, Tower Two, the north tower. My firm had nine employees and about sixty subcontractors out on contracts to provide aviation services, pilots and training services as well as mandatory reporting for IRS and FAA compliance, to most of the fortune fifty corporations that ran their own aviation department. One of our clients was The Port Authority of NY & NJ. They insisted that we maintain offices in the World Trade Center. My firm was a women owned company, the boss was also our main salesperson and my wife. I was on the way to a conference room for our daily 9AM briefing. I was early , I had picked up coffee and was standing on the west side of the tower looking out the window, it was a perfect day, CAVU or sever clear as we used to call it. I was looking at Kennedy , I could see the departures and the arrivals on the Canarsie approach for 13L. All of a sudden I caught movement and identify the movement as a aircraft, I first thought it was a 737 but realized the engines’ didn’t look right it had to be either a 757 or 767. I’m thinking what idiot controller routed this guy over lower Manhattan ? Then I’m thinking Christ, he’s low, he’s very very low. From my vantage point and because of the background clutter my brain tried to convince me that the aircraft was lower than me, but as he drew near, I was looking up, but still thinking he was very low, Just as I started to think that he might now clear the tower, I felt the shutter and all kinds of stuff in the ceiling, above the ceiling tiles in all the buildings of the world, was falling on me. I never heard the crash, but I felt and could smell it. I entered the conference room and told everyone to get out of the building and go home. I cleared our office space and made my way down to the street. Where I watched like everyone else the second aircraft hit Tower One. I watched as people jumped from the buildings because they had no way out. Luckily my wife had played hooky that day and was home safe. I walked down Folton Street to Gold Street, I knew that at that location there was a Hospital annex, I explained that I was a Medic in Vietnam and a NJ EMT, that there were a number of dead and injured on Folton Street headed this way and asked if I could help. After the buildings collapsed, I spent the next 24 hours at the aid station near what became known as the “Pit”, washing out eyes and clearing airways of the firemen and cops as well as caring for civilian injuries not requiring a doctor. I finally got a ferry home to Highlands, got cleaned up and sat in our kitchen with Kathleen and cried. The next few days would be very difficult and sad ones. We lost two employees and fifteen personal friends , people that we worked with or commuted on the ferry with, played golf with, sailed with, enjoyed life’s celebrations with . Just like Vietnam, gone in the blink of an eye. I still feel the rage.
