nmah5317.xml

nmah5317.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-11-30

I was at work in the American Express Tower, 3 World Financial Center, 20th Floor when I heard the first plane hit. The sound to me was like a crane falling off the top of the world trade center. I was in an office that faced North; I looked out the window and saw people running in the streets. My boss said "this is bad". I walked down the hallway to a colleagues office. People were saying that a plane hit the Trade Center. My heart began to race, my brother John worked at the trade center, for Cantor Fitzgerald. I wasn't sure which floor he was on but I knew it was over 100. I looked out of the window and saw a huge fire ball in front of me just where I thought he would be. I screamed and cryed his name. Everyone was trying to calm me down, they said it was a comuter flight and that we were okay. They did not realize who was there.
I ran back to my office and dialed his number -- beep beep beep, I dialed his home number, answering machince, I dialed my sister Catherine -- "what floor is John on?"
"A plane hit the World Trade Center!" She did not know, she screamed. I called my father, he had CNN on -- "What floor is John on?" I dont know! While I was on the phone with my Dad, he lives in Rhode Island, he had CNN on. He saw the other plane before I heard it. He just said oh my god oh my god. Smash! The window in my office went woop woop woop and I dropped the phone, I thought the window was going to buckle in. I was terrified, I told anyone between me and the fire exit to evacuate immediately. The security team was still saying to stay put. I ran down 20 flights of stairs crying, screaming. Those around me tried to comfort me. I was filled with a horrible sense of guilt fleeing down the stairs knowing he was in the inferno.

When I reached the lobby my boss was behind the security desk at 3 WFC conferring with the haed of Security for Lehman Brothers. I went behind the desk to tell her I was leaving and to encourage her to flee. In the confusion I left through the Winter Garden which had alraedy been evacuated. The hair on my arms stood up as I realized I was in immediate danger. I ran outside toward the water. I remmeber that unlike other emergencies, where everyone had been running to the water together, everyone was frozen, facing me as I came out of the building. Why weren't they running? What were they looking at? Thump! I heard it. I turned around and saw people falling from the sky, on fire. Not just one person, One after another. Was that John? Was I here at the this moment to witness this? My feet kept moving even as my mind disassociated from my emotions. I was desperate to reach my son, age four. We had moved to a new home a week earlier and he was with a new babysitter. My husband was in California Onto the ferry to Hoboken. No trains, chaos, crying, people pouring into the station. I met up with two co-workers who lived in the same area as me and we boarded the first train available. Passengers came streaming on. I had an email device. I emailed my dad -- I am okay I am on a train in Hoboken. He emailed me -- they heard from John, he was alive after the first plane hit! I guy from Solomon Brothers had been on the phone with him! He said he was getting out of there!
Someone on the train was getting news from e-mail -- A plane hit the pentagon! Other planes are hijacked! A plane crahsed in Pennsyvania! The tower came down!!!

What tower? Which Tower? Please which tower? The SOUTH!

Oh my GOd John run run !!! Please hurry John!

During the last bombing he had been in the tower. It had taken him 2 1/2 hours to make it down. He had carried an elderly woman the entire way. I pleaded with him in my mind to race out.

The other Tower just fell! Oh my GOD! How Long since the plane? How Long? 90 minutes! SHIT! I knew. I had known before I left my office. He was dead.

I got to my stop and got into my car and drove to my house. I did not know one person in the town. The phone rang, my husband. The phone rang, my sister. The phone rang, my co-worker, the phone rang, the phone rang. CNN blaring, boxes all over the house. The north tower had fallen on 3 WFC. Did I have a job?
I went to the computer and starting emailing Cantor Fitzgerald, the NY hospitals, anyone that I could think of. Had anyone above 100 escaped? Was he walking home? Was he in the cold rubble?

The phone rang, Cantor Fitzgerald emergency center, the Essex Hotel tommorrow morning. Not a hospital, not an emergency room, coffee and cake. Families crying balling. Had anyone above 100 made it out?
No.

Yes, sadness, terror and anger have entered my life. I am filled with thoughts of rage and revenge tempered by attempts to remember the goodness that my brother embodied.

John Thomas Mcerlean should be remembered. He did nothing to deserve this. He was a wonderful person who deserved to be with his children and the family he adored. I do not understand what was accomplished by these henous acts.

I did fly an American Flag. I have always loved the Flag, now more than ever.