No. 15
As a life-long Washingtonian, it may be odd that I have an unusual association with the World Trade Center but I do. On this anniversary, I share a 20-year old memory with you.
I was working as the Computer Science Department Chair and high school teacher at St. Stephen's & St. Agnes School in 1993. I had joined SSSAS in 1990, the last year that the two schools were independent, and was asked to start the Computer Science Department, K-12, in early 1991. The next two years, with the merge of the schools, and the start-up of a whole new program at work, combined with two small growing girls at home, the days were very full. I loved this period of expansive creation.
I was asked to represent the school at the National Association of Independent Schools (NAIS) annual meeting which was being held in NYC that year. This was icing on the cake. While Greg traveled frequently for his work, I rarely had travel of my own. I was excited and eager to attend the large gathering of educators from around the country. I signed up for pre-conference workshops and mapped out all my sessions prior to boarding the Amtrak train.
In a conversation with my mother before my departure, I learned that my cousin Anthony was living in NYC and working on Wall Street. He was my Grandmother Daisy's grandson and I remembered him from a family dinner 10 years earlier. Anyway, she mentioned that he was having trouble meeting people and couldn't I have lunch or coffee with him while I was up at the meeting. Great--my FUN business trip was being squashed with a family obligation. OK; I promised I would call him.
So, I arrived early Wednesday morning for the pre-meeting workshops. I have no idea now what I attended but as an eager learner, I was delighted to be in a classroom again and NOT as the teacher. The annual meeting opened with a fabulous speaker (I don't remember this either) and I went from one session to the next all day Thursday. But I still needed to call my cousin. So, that evening, after happy hour with colleagues, I made arrangements with Anthony to meet the next morning in the financial district.
I maneuvered the subway and arrived on Wall Street about 10 am on Friday morning. We didn't know each other well so there was lots of easy small talk to cover. The day had turned very cold and it was snowing as we walked down Wall St. I did not plan on wet, cold weather so I was freezing. "Would you like to go to the top of the World Trade Center?" he asked. He explained he had business associates in the building and there was an incredible view from the top floor.
"I'm not sure we're going to see much today," I said, shivering and looking toward the sky. "I'm afraid I didn't bring the right footwear and my feet are cold and wet. Why don't I buy you some lunch, we can warm up and continue our conversation?" He agreed and we found a little bistro nearby. It was a lovely lunch and as we were saying our goodbye's, I was really glad that Mom had asked me to meet again.
Once again, I found my way back to the subway and boarded the train headed to mid-town. The subway car was relatively empty so I was able to sit down for the ride. Just as the doors were closing, a man slipped in and fell onto the bench seat across from me. He was a young, athletic man who seemed rather out of sorts.
"Are you OK?" I asked. I can't help it. I talk to everyone--even in New York City.
"I don't know," he said. "I just don't know." He seemed upset and confused and he kept shaking his head. As I looked at him, I noticed he had on a white tailored shirt, navy pinstripe pants, and very expensive shoes. But no suit jacket or over coat. Huh?
"I don't know what just happened," he said. "They told us to leave immediately. We weren't allowed to get any of our things. I don't even have my keys. We just had to leave."
"Leave where? Do you need some money?" I was even thinking about giving him my scarf at that point. His comments explained why he didn't have on a coat in this cold weather.
"I work in the World Trade Center. The fire alarms went off and the next thing I know we're being herded to the stairwells and out of the building. I'm on the 93rd floor--it was a long climb down. When I got outside, the streets were crawling with firefighters, police, and emergency vehicles. Someone said there was a bomb in the parking garage."
Shit. My chest tightened. I could have been in the building at that time. I focused my attention back on the traveler.
"Where are you going now? What can I do to help you? Do you need some money?" I asked.
"I'm headed home. My building has a doorman and he'll let me in. The super will have another key. I just don't know. This is so weird. I'll figure it out once I get home," he said. He just kept shaking his head and rubbing his hands through his hair.
I rummaged through my purse and found a business card. I then checked my wallet and pulled out my last $5 bill.
"Here," I reached across the aisle and pressed the card and cash into his hand. "Take this. I never carry cash so it's not much but you may need it. I've given you my card, too. I'm so sorry that this happened but I'm glad you got out of the building safely."
"I don't even know if anyone was hurt," he said looking me directly in the eye. "I just left as soon as I could. I was scared."
"That's totally understandable. You were in a life-threatening situation. You followed the evacuation plan and fortunately, you're OK," I said, hoping this was comforting him. "There will be more clarity in coming days about this. You just need to focus on getting home, getting warm and having something to eat." (Ah, the Cathey answer to all problems!)
"Thank you," he said. "Thank you."
We sat in silence for a few stops as I could tell he was coming down from his adrenaline high. He focused his stare on the subway car floor and seemed to relax a little the further down the line we traveled. The engineer announced the next stop and he stood up.
"This is my stop," he said. I stood up, too. "Thanks again," he said as he reached out his hand to shake mine. We shook hands and I wished him well. And then he was gone.
I remembered this day again on September 11, 2001, and thought about my subway friend. I wondered if he was still working at the World Trade Center or if he'd left the city for the safety of the suburbs. I know I missed my opportunity to see the expansive view from the top of the towers and it's hard to believe that they have been gone now for more than a decade. But thanks to my cold, wet feet, I also avoided a very dangerous situation. And I am reminded that there are angels and messengers everywhere; we just have to look for them. So, keep your eye's peeled and your heart open . . .
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