Tuesday morning, 9/11/01 started out as a spectacular late summer day - Warm, low humidity and not a cloud in the sky.It was the type of day that the local TV weatherman Mr. G, would proclaim as one of the 10 best days of the year.
At that time, I worked at Information Builders, the largest privately-held software company based in Manhattan. The company is based at 2 Penn Plaza, which sits atop Penn Station and is directly across from Madison Square Garden.
I commuted by bus every day and unless it was raining or snowing, I usually walked 8 blocks down town from the Port Authority Bus Terminal to my office. It was a perfect day to walk in the Big Apple...Little did I know how much walking I would do that day.
I usually alternated walking down 7th and 8th Avenues and this particular morning I randomly chose 8th Avenue - a grittier, less pedestrian-congested thoroughfare than 7th Avenue, which cuts across the Garment District, but in the right lighting of a beautiful day like today, grit is transformed into urban character.
I walk fairly quickly, and could usually cover 8th blocks in about 15 minutes. Before I knew it, I was hitting the steps that pass under Madison Square Garden and onto Penn Station's main concourse, where a wide variety of shops and fast food franchises are located.
At about 8:45 I made my usual stop at a corner coffee shop that was at the foot of the stairs that led up to my office building. Above the counter were two small TV sets. They were tuned to "Good Day New York," a morning news magazine that aired on the local Fox affiliate, Channel 5.
That's when I saw the breaking news that a plane had hit the North Tower of the World Trade Center. I, like many other people assumed it was a small, single-engine plane gone off course - Which make no mistake, was still a shock.
There was a somber buzz in the lobby as we waited for the elevators. Within minutes, other TV, cable and radio stations were broadcasting initial reports of smoke and flames visible from about halfway up the North Tower. I overheard someone say that it wasn't a small plane, it was a commercial airliner. How could that be?
I took the elevator up to the 11th floor with some co-workers. All speculating on how serious this plane crash may actually be. When the elevator stopped and we walked through the elevator lobby and onto the office floor, we immediately found out.
There were sounds of crying, and hushed "Oh my Gods." Almost everyone was gathered in the perimeter offices that had windows that faced towards lower Manhattan.
A second plane had already hit the South Tower. One of the women was hysterical, because smoke had engulfed the floor where her sister worked.
The company CEO Gerald Cohen's corner office had the most dramatic view, an almost unobstructed shot of the smoldering towers and the Statue of Liberty in the distance. Ironically, visibility that day was picture perfect.
I went to to my office which faced west onto Macy's and 34th Street and booted up my computer while dialing my home number to call my wife, who was understandably frantic. I told her I was OK and that I wasn't yet sure what was going on.
It seemed like moments after I hung up with my wife, that the reports of hijacked planes connected to acts of terrorism were broadcast and posted on the Internet. We were also told that we had to evacuate our building because it sat above a train station, which may also be a terrorist target.
Bridges and tunnels were soon closed and no traffic was allowed in or out of the city. I wasn't sure where I was evacuating to, but I grabbed some travel-sized toiletries that I had in my drawer, packed them along with my laptop into my bag, and was ready to hit the streets.
As I was getting ready to leave, Wayne and Eberly, a couple who worked in the marketing department with me were inviting colleagues to their apartment if they needed a place to stay. They lived a few blocks away from the office and I took them up on their gracious offer.
I called my wife to tell her I was evacuating and would call her as soon as I got settled.
About a half dozen of us walked a few blocks west and north I believe, towards Wayne and Eberly's place.
It was still a gorgeous day, and we walked past many people who appeared to be going about their business as if nothing had happened. I asked myself, "Can they really be unaware of what is going on?"
As an aside, there was a stiff breeze that day that not only made the warm weather more comfortable, but it also blew the smoke of the smoldering towers away from Manhattan Island.
I believe to this day that if the wind had been blowing up Broadway, there would have been widespread panic far beyond the Financial District.
Before we got to the apartment, we stopped at the corner Gristede's grocery store to buy bottled water, canned goods etc. to prepare for a New York lock-down as we did not know how long it would last or whether or not food and water would soon be in short supply.
I don't remember how many flights up the apartment was or whether we took the stairs or the elevator, but when we entered, we put all the provisions on the kitchen counter and Wayne flipped the TV on. By this time, news coverage was in full swing and both towers had collapsed. Watching the replay was horrific and surreal.
I tried calling my wife to let her know where I was, but could not get a long distance land line connection. I then decided that I could not sit there and watch this tragedy unfold on TV and be out of contact with my wife and two young daughters (9 & 11) for who knew how long.
I told myself that one way or another I was going to get home before my girls went to sleep that night. I wasn't sure how I was going to do it, but that was my goal. I told my hosts and friends my plans and Wayne and Eberly wished me luck and said if I couldn't get out of the city that I was welcome to come back.
First, I tried to make a few calls. Cell service was non-existent, but local land line service was still working at that time. Using a yellow page directory, I called all the rental car offices in mid-town to see if I could rent a car.
My plan was to drive uptown to Harlem, through the Bronx and onward through Westchester and White Plains and then cut across the Tapanzee Bridge to New Jersey.
This plan was contingent on the Harlem River Crossings being open, which I wasn't really sure about. Pretty dumb when I think about it now.
When I finally got a car rental place to answer the phone. I was asked, "What do you need a car for, you can't go nowhere..click."
Obviously, I needed a plan B. One of the news reports on TV said there was free ferry service from Manhattan to New Jersey, departing from areas along the West Side Highway.
I said my goodbyes, grabbed my bag and started my cross-town hike. Once again I was taken aback by how so many people that I passed on the sidewalk appeared to be oblivious to the day's events - despite the billowing smoke visible on the southern horizon.
I'm not sure how long it took me to walk to the west side, but when I finally got there it was far more crowded then what I anticipated - It was like New Year's Eve in Times Square.
I waited about a half hour before deciding that the ferries were too few and far between and the crowd was not advancing. I also imagined people being trampled when a ferry did finally arrive.
Being a person who prefers to move forward rather than stand still and hope for the best, I decided to move on. Next stop, Times Square. I could see huge plumes of smoke down 7th Avenue when I looked downtown.
My rationale here was to reserve a hotel room close to the Port Authority so I could have a place to stay if my attempt to get home by my daughters' bed time failed. This would also enable me to jump immediately on the opportunity of bus service being restored. Plus, I didn't remember where Wayne and Eberly lived and could not call them for directions. There was no turning back
However, the Hilton and the Sheraton were not accepting new reservations. In fact, I could not get into a hotel lobby unless I proved I was a guest.
I begin to double back to where I originally started - Down 7th Avenue towards Penn Station. There are two hotels across the street (although a bit cheesy) that perhaps would allow me to check in and enable me to get a jump on catching a train from Penn Station when they started running again.
As I walked down town I thought of other contingency plans. I would buy a bicycle and ride it or walk it across any crossing that would take me off of the island. Perhaps pedestrian traffic was being allowed over the GWB and other bridges. Shit! Why didn't I think of this when I was in Times Square near Toys R Us?
Maybe I could buy a bike at the K-Mart attached to Penn Station...Nope! Closed as part of the evacuation.
As I was approaching Penn Station, I decided that I would continue walking downtown and hang a right to Chelsea Pier. I thought I remembered a Kayak rental place in the area. Can I paddle my way to New Jersey? I think so. Could it be any harder than the white water canoeing I used to do on the Delaware River when I was in college? Probably when you consider that was 25 years ago...Maybe the Coast Guard will give me a lift.
I was just about to walk past the steps that lead down to Penn Station, when I noticed two cops were pushing aside the police barricades. "Is the station open?" I was really not expected the answer: "Yes. Trains are boarding now. You better get on."
New York's Finest did not have to tell me twice! I bounded down the stairs to a surprisingly crowded station. Other entrances must have been opened first, and the people poured in.
I found my gate, ran down the esclator, and boarded my train - already standing room only. I didn't care. I would have sat on the roof.
Many passengers were ghost-like, covered in ashes. Conversation primarily consisted of people trying to call their loved ones. There was still no cell phone service.
Within minutes, our train pulled out and headed though the concrete tube that took us under the Hudson River into New Jersey... Are we safe?
As soon as we broke into daylight, my cell phone displayed 3 bars indicating a fairly strong signal. I called my wife. "Debbie, I'm OK. I'm on a train. Meet me at Point Pleasant Station in about an hour."
"Thank God!" Then she yelled away from the receiver, "Girls! Daddy's OK! He's on a train and on his way home!"
