Barbara Chandler was working on the 77th floor of 1 World Trade Center when the first plane struck the upper floors of her building. “It was a combination of sound and the building rocking. I saw flying glass and papers just showering down in front of my windows. Then our suite began to fill with toxic fumes and smoke. We grabbed paper towels and water to put over our faces, and walked down all 77 flights-there was better air in the stairwell, and it was very organized.”
Michael Hingson, 51, a sales manager on the 78th floor of 1 World Trade Center, felt the 8:48 a.m. blast and immediately walked down the building’s stairs, along with seven other staffers. He recalled wishing firefighters and other rescue personnel good luck as they raced upstairs, then paused to reflect on their likely demise. “They probably came down the hard way.”
Teresa Kong, 29, first noticed things falling outside her window. “I’d been away all last week, so I was checking my e-mail, going through it. I’m a high-yield analyst, I get about 35 e-mails a day, and I’d been gone for a week. After the big ball of fire, I thought people should leave because of smoke inhalation, stampeding and panic. There were firemen rushing into my building as I was leaving. It was very clear that they were being heroic, doing their jobs. Sirens were going off, people everywhere. Fire trucks all around.”
Up on the 87th floor of WTC 1, Jason Braunstein, 22, had just finished his breakfast. “The building was swaying, shaking, rocking,” he says. “Those towers are designed to sway four feet each direction, and they were. You could feel it.” When Braunstein made it down 87 floors out to the street he says things were a mess. “In the courtyard outside the building I saw things that no one should ever see-things I can’t talk about-body parts, pieces. First the EMTs said ’take your time getting out,’ but when the building started to go, they just said ‘f-king run.’
Soon at Canal Street, onlookers outnumbered victims but the victims were still emerging from their journey to safety. One, Greg Ciaverelli, who works at Goldman Sachs on Fulton Street, was still reeling from what he had witnessed. “Right now, I don’t know where my roommate is. He worked in the World Trade Center, on the 85th Floor.”
Joshua Fifer, 21, a student who lives four blocks from the World Trade Center, watched the tragedy unfold from his roof. Fifer was evacuated before he could grab shoes and was making his way up Broadway still barefoot. “I saw at least seven people jumping out of the building where the fire was. You can see a person going straight down, no floating or anything. It’s the sickest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole life.”
Tom Brennan, a rescue worker from Brooklyn, said, “We got here when the second building had just collapsed. People were screaming mayday. By that point, everybody was screaming to run. The stuff was passing us, white powder, debris, papers, dust, wind-the wind was incredible, like a storm. We took a left, because the stuff was falling in front of us. It was pitch black. All the smoke knocked out all the sunlight.”
Mike Frankel, 19, was in his 9 a.m. Italian class at Borough of Manhattan Community College several blocks north of the World Trade Center when he heard an explosion. Now he stood at 199 Church Street, talking to his mother on his cell phone. “Ma, I saw 50 people die,” he told her. “I saw the buildings drop right in front of me. I came out of school and saw people jumping out of the buildings. I saw everything.”
Jim Pesomen, 46, was in WTC 1 on the 81st floor when the first plane struck. He was also in same building for the 1993 WTC bombing, that time on the 32nd floor. “I tell you, this makes the first one seem like a cake walk. The toughest part [of today] was watching the firemen go back into that building as it was coming down. That was something else. Those guys, I tell you, they have courage, knowing what they know.”
Bronx Battalion 19’s Chief Frank Nagileri, 44, and the six units under his command-firefighters from the Bronx and Queens-were awaiting the call from the New York City command post that would send them to the site of the World Trade Center. Said Nagileri: “I can tell you that in 23 years, this is the first time I’ve seen a total recall of all of our people. Off-duty, on vacation-everyone who was breathing was called in.”
Around 11 a.m., rescuer Claude Kebbe said, “The guys that were inside … we haven’t heard a mayday in the last hour, so I doubt anybody’s left … It’s impossible right now to even know where to start. You see pictures of major earthquakes. That’s what it looks like in there. And with all our chief’s training they’re just as baffled as I am.”
Around 12:15 p.m., a block or two up from the fire on Barclay Street and Park Place, there was a burned-out Greyhound bus in the middle of the street, and the charred shell of a U.S. Mail truck. There was acrid smoke everywhere, and it smelled of burning rubber. Several firefighters a few minutes later were leaning on the hulk of a burned-out Ford Taurus, shovels were stacked against it, a crowbar. Said one, “I came here from home (he was off duty). We got here, the buildings were just burning. Devastating, destruction, a lot of brothers are missing. At least 100. We don’t know where they are. It’s a bad day for Fire Department history, our whole company is missing. My best friends, guys I worked with for seven years that were here. "
Jim Hanisian, an Episcopal priest, headed over to St. Vincent’s to offer whatever help they could. Hanisian said a man he spoke to tripped and fell as he was fleeing one of the buildings and his back was showered with glass shards. Someone grabbed him and dragged him out of harm’s way. “I asked him if he knew the guy, and he said, ‘I know his name was Mitch, and I love him’.”
Over at Beth Israel Hospital near the East Village, one blue-scrubbed EMT, who declined to give his name, said, “The sad thing is, at this point, I think it’s going to be dead-on-arrivals. We’re already well past the golden hour. It’s been three, four hours already. And usually that’s too late to do anything.’'
“We’re prepared for everything,” said Bellevue’s Dr. Robert Hessler. “Every hospital in New York City is in disaster mode.” But by 5 p.m., Bellevue had only seen 140 patients.
Around midnight, a team of 10-12 dogs sniffed through the rubble of the World Trade Center. They entered through World Financial Center, passing empty shops and halls lit only by flashlights. On a soot-encrusted pillar someone had fingered the words KILL THOSE BASTARDS.
One rescue worker said, “They lost a lot of men here,” indicating the general area they were focused on. Few idle words were spoken-there was a constant beeping of heavy equipment and the sound of diesel trucks. Firemen began handing up debris to others who carried it away. One cried. “There is nothing you can do,” he said. “We know that we have many of our people still in the rubble but there is nothing we could do here.”
By 1:30 a.m., the pace picked up considerably. The wreckage site was a vast heap of metal and twisted steel girders with books, papers and scraps of clothing. A foot was attached to a leg with large veins bulging out below the knee, all caked in a dusty sheen that made it look unreal. It was attached to the rest of the body, still buried under a dusty red girder, which had the word “victim” written on it in white chalk. Ripped clothes were everywhere. Nearby, firemen and safety workers clustered around two bodies that were lying together in the twisted heap. One fireman held a flashlight as another dug away dirt with a shovel. “The arms are over there,” one said. It was a woman. Her hair was full of dust. The other appeared to be clenching his teeth.
