It was long before the
terrorist attacks of 911 that a pattern was set in my mind and my understanding
of right and wrong. A good friend and I
would converse years before the 911 events and he would always challenge me
when I used the word right or wrong. He
would basically tell me there was no right or wrong.
I never understood
this. How could this be? I asked him many times to explain what he
meant by this. How can there be no such
thing as right or wrong? His points were
very vague to me and I didn’t grasp his point. So much so that years later, shortly after the
911 events, I couldn’t even remember what he said. I believe that I was not ready for his basic
information; therefore I didn’t grasp the point.
My own personal experience
in refining my beliefs about what is right and/or wrong began shortly after my
direct encounter of the 911 events – I was one block from the first falling
tower in route to evacuate the lower Manhattan area.
There is indeed a right and
a wrong!
It was just a beautiful
Tuesday morning. A seventy-degree, let’s
play hooky from work kind of day. I
started my day commuting on the Long Island Railroad at 7:58 from Rockville
Centre to downtown Brooklyn where I transferred to the New York City Subway,
proceeding to the Wall Street stop in lower Manhattan.
Ironically, I had not been
commuting into the City for several weeks since much of my work was being
performed at a client site on Long Island.
It was a good old New York City style commute, people pushing and
hustling through the streets, faces lowered, cell phones up next to ears,
briefcases and bags swinging from arms and bumping into other people.
But there I was on that day,
the day of the 911 events. I arrived at my
subway stop at approximately 8:47 and began my ascent to the street level where
I noticed bits of paper mixed in with entire sheets coming down from the
sky. I looked around to identify the
point of origin and briefly considered there might have been a ticker tape
parade that day. It occurred to me that I
would have been aware of this beforehand.
So what was going on? I was not the only person wondering about
this. Many others were standing and
looking at the paper floating around. No
logical explanation came to mind.
While waiting for a traffic
light to change so I could cross the street a woman next to me took a phone
call on her cell phone. She was saying
something about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center.
Now this did catch my
attention, but I immediately assumed any plane crashing into the Trade Centre
would be one of those two or four seat Cessna’s that have from time to time
crashed into Manhattan skyscrapers. I took
the elevator to the 14th floor where my office was located with an
image in mind of a small plane in flames somewhere on an upper floor of the
World Trade Centre.
I arrived at my desk and
through the ceiling to floor glass window, I noticed the ticker tape still
floating down more intensely now. A vast
shower of specks was whirling down from some as yet unknown location.
I called my good friend
Carlos who lived in West New York, New Jersey.
His view of the City is superb.
His balcony faces Manhattan where you can see from the upper 50’s of Manhattan,
just south of Central Park, down to the Statue of Liberty.
Carlos had an edge to his
voice when he answered the phone. Yes,
he confirmed, a plane had crashed into the north tower of the Trade
Center. He was viewing it all, nearly
first hand and on the television.
While still on the phone not
even 2 minutes’ into our phone call, the building my office was located in
began to assume a slight vibration that gradually got stronger. The vibration ended in an explosion, which
scared the hell out of me. In concert,
before the explosion Carlos was literally explaining to me an airplane was
heading towards Lower Manhattan. He said
it was a large airplane – “like the ones
we go to Miami in Scott”. It was obvious
this was no accident.
Carlos asked me to come to
his house via the ferry from Manhattan to New Jersey, but I declined because
the World Trade Center was between New Jersey and me. I decided I was going home even though I had
a 9:00AM meeting with my department at One Chase Plaza, which is across the
street from the World Trade Center and I was already running late.
I informed the
administrative assistant of our department I would be going home shortly. Upon returning to my desk I ran into my
direct supervisor and told him I didn’t feel comfortable staying at work. He merely disappeared into his office with a
stone cold look of shock on his face. I
knew he was at One Chase Plaza for our department meeting. Later he explained, he watched the entire
thing, which would have been no further than a football field away with no
obstructed view.
Another co-working noticed I
was packing up and preparing to leave.
He asked me, “wouldn’t you feel safer in the building”? I responded, “what if one of those towers
falls over”? He responded, “It could
never happen, they were built really strong, it could never happen”.
I didn’t pretend to be
reassured, but continued packing up and headed towards the Fulton Street subway
station. Traffic was at a standstill.
The air was full of clouds of black, gray and white smoke swirling
around. Sirens were blaring everywhere
and police and firefighters were traveling by foot towards the WTC, the same
direction I was walking to the subway station.
Upon arriving at the corner
of Wall Street and Broadway, in front of Trinity Church a loud rumble
began. I froze like an animal in the
forest not able to identify the source of the rumbling noise. To my right I heard screaming and, “It’s
falling, it’s falling”. I look to my
right at the source of this screaming and saw many people looking almost
straight up. I followed their line of
sight and there it was, the first tower coming down literally a block
away. I didn’t think I was going to die,
I knew I was. I turned around and began
to sprint telling myself, “don’t look back it will be over quickly, just don’t
look”. Having my laptop on my shoulder I
recall thinking just drop it – it was impairing my balance and the speed of my
sprint.
As I ran, I continued to
think there was going to be a domino effect, which could collapse several
buildings within a block or two with ruinous results. I ran on toward the East River, expecting the
skyline behind me to consume me – the dust cloud was quickly catching up as I
frantically looked back wondering why the obvious had not happened. I kept looking back as the seconds passed not
understanding why I was still alive and not crushed.
I got to the East River and
there was panic everywhere. I arrived
out of breath only to see hundreds of people in panic, trying to get on ferries
or any kind of boat allowing some way out from the chaos. Others appeared to be wandering around
clueless, in a state of shock.
How could I have not been
crushed? The question raced through my
mind. A dense cloud of smoke and debris,
like a large dust storm, was following hordes of people as they raced towards
me just south of the Southside Seaport.
Some of them were immersed in the pre-haze already.
About that time I heard the
high-pitched sound of jets overhead, which had many of us looking up and
around. I later heard that those who
remained in their offices experience a lot of anxiety thinking another attack
was underway.
In the moments following I
made a decision to walk up the east side of the island to the Brooklyn
Bridge. From there I could cross over,
where I would be able to get back home, or so I hoped. While walking I overheard conversations that
the Pentagon had been attacked and some other aircraft crashes occurred. People were even speculating the planes that
crashed into the World Trade Center might have been carrying some type of
poison that may have been released upon the crashes.
Upon reaching the Brooklyn
Bridge I helped several people over a short fence dividing inbound/outbound
traffic on the bridge to the walkway crossing.
After acknowledging that I need to move on myself I started walking over
the bridge. I distinctly remember a
woman that was just standing still staring at ground zero. I asked her to come with me, “don’t you want
to walk with me”. It was like I wasn’t
even there. I gestured almost touching
her to help her along and come with me, but her reaction was almost
violent. I apologies and expressed my
thoughts again to come with me. It was
clear she was in shock. I continued on
my journey looking dead center at the bridge walkway to Brooklyn. I though, now I’m crossing one of the most
popular historical sites in New York City.
Of course there was anxiety regarding that though, but I tabled it and
stepped up my pace. Just get over the
bridge Scott; no need to psych yourself out said an inner voice.
Halfway over the bridge, a
loud rumble began. Everyone, including
me began to run towards Brooklyn.
Looking back over my shoulder I saw the collapse of the second tower
falling. Some of us stopped, stood and
watched. My first though watching the
tower plummet down was they intentionally brought the building down to limit
casualties. I will never forget that
moment.
I started walking again and
it took about an hour to get to the Long Island Railroad. There were people milling about in the
streets everywhere along the way, covered in dust, and some requiring medical
attention. It reminded me of scenes in a
movie of disastrous proportions.
Being at the station did me
no good; the trains were not running. Mass
transit had been halted in the City, as well as Long Island. There was nowhere to go, no way to get home.
I ended up walking towards
my old neighborhood, Park Slope in Brooklyn.
I attempted to get through some calls on my cell phone, which was no
easy task. I tried calling my parents in
South Florida, but the lines continued busy or just no line was available. After several attempts trying to use my cell and
getting no dial tone I finally got in contact with a close friend that lived in
Long Beach, Long Island. Shortly after
knowing I was all right, she said have you called your mother. I told her I could not get through. “As a mother, you need to hang up now and
keep trying”, was her response. Right
after that call I called my mother at her work place and got through to her the
very first attempt. We both just cried
for a few minutes. I also was able to
speak with my stepmother to tell her that I was ok and to tell dad.
How was I to get home? After an hour of walking about, drinking
bottled water the thought of getting home started to consume me. I check back in at the Long Island Railroad
and hoped it would be an option. It was
like I was guided at that time to be checking in – the outbound trains had just
started service. Photo ID and proof of
Long Island residency were required to board the LIRR (“Long Island Railroad”).
Upon my decent into the underground
railroad it was spooky as I was one of the first to enter the train station. The train filled pretty quickly and they
loaded it literally with no standing room left.
We began our journey out of the Flatbush Station to the Jamaica
Station. Once at the Jamaica Station the
police with dogs searched the external part of the train, which seem to take
forever. It made many of us even more nervous
as the adrenaline continued in our bodies.
Back safely in Rockville
Centre, I went directly to a deli where a close friend worked. The deli was on the same block of the train
station. Upon entering the shop, the
staff and several patrons stared at me.
My friend, which will go unnamed, was one of the last to turn his head
from behind the counter. He ran to me
and almost knocked me over with a tight hug.
“Oh my God, you are alright. I
was thinking the worst. Look at
you.” I didn’t quite get the look at
you, but he clarified all the dust on me soon after. I went to the bathroom and saw something that
was so surreal. I was covered in
dust. The staff at the deli was trying
to pamper me with anything I wanted and after seeing what I looked like I just
wanted to be home, where I thought I’d feel better.
I closed the door to my
house and felt a momentary sense of security.
I drew a bath and put on classical music to relax, something I always
did. In removing my clothes I realized
that my one ankle was soar; later to know I had a sprain caused by my sprinting
away from the first falling building – leather soled Wintips don’t work real
will against concrete, especially when they are new! Well, the bath didn’t last very long at
all. I was so wound up still from
adrenaline the bath only lasted five minutes or less. I turned on the television and for the next
three days I didn’t sleep a wink. I
grocery shopped daily as if another attack was imminent and continued to wondered
if I would ever see my family again.
During the days to come,
loud noises startled me, airplanes overhead awoke me from a dead sleep, and my
anxiety level didn’t taper off for several months.
It turned out that Rockville
Center, where I lived at the time had sustained the most deaths in the
tragedy. I found myself attending
several memorial services per my therapist recommendation to try to put closure
on “911”. All I could think about were
my own emotions and how to come to terms with these events.
A couple of months later,
after work one day, I had a beer with my boss.
He was based in England, but now in New York. We were walking down the street in the City
awaiting a light to change so we could cross the road. A bus raced up to the curb and honked
aggressively at us. My boss verbalized
that he had noticed that right after the “911” event how courteous and
respectful New Yorkers had become to one another, however now the City seems to
be back to its old self.
After that comment my whole
life changed. I realized the simplicity
of my friends point there is no “right or wrong”. My
thoughts to my friends point are there is right and wrong, and its solely based
on the intention of a human as he or she commits an act.
The attack on the World
Trade Centre was definitely a WRONG.
Motives coupled with beliefs led to plotting and execution of the events
of “911”. Where my experience that day
was physically closer to Ground Zero, I feel every American and the allies of
Americans were in shock and suffered great emotional distress. Some people I know will be mentally not the
same for the rest of their life after watching people jump out windows and
committing an inevitable death.
The one thing most of us can
control is our behavior towards one another.
As a race we should move to exercise this option while we have it. We can indeed differentiate and choose
between right and wrong, which exist as more than just a mere abstraction.
There have been significant
changes in myself and I’ve realized how lucky I am. I’ve become much more humble and those things
that have monetary value don’t have the value they once did in my life. Integrity, communication and love seem to be
the best choice to create a positive and peaceful existence.
Love and Light
Scott Claudius Laurentine
Himmelrich
