Editor’s note: These are MTA Administrative Manager Shelley Lebeck’s thoughts, most of which were written shortly after her escape from the North Tower. As the organization was known as the Market Technicians Association (MTA) in 2001, we’ve kept the original name here.
The manufacturers of New York City postcards are going to have to start over. Today the landmark World Trade Center buildings collapsed into rubble: thousands of lives are going to change after today, mine included. My office at the Market Technicians Association (MTA) was in 1 World Trade Center (the North Tower) on the 44th floor and I was in the building when it all happened.
The day started as any other ordinary workday, and I recall that it was a beautiful day with clear blue skies and a perfect temperature. I took the bus to work, went inside the concourse to get the paper, picked up my coffee from the same place and from the same guy where I’ve gone for six years. The guy said, “See you tomorrow.” I went up to my office, opened the door, turned on the computers, had my coffee, and was answering e-mails.
I had been at work for almost an hour, and was on the phone with friend and colleague Barbara Gomperts just a few minutes before 9:00 am, when the building shook violently. It was as if some big thing pushed the building – which of course it did – and then it bounced back. It’s hard to say how long it shook, just seconds most likely but it was unbelievably scary. Our thoughts ran from explosion to earthquake to a small plane hitting the building, but we didn’t know the truth. I thought the building was going to collapse then, but amazingly it did not. To digress just a bit, one time while working there it was extremely windy and my office was in the middle of the floor. I could literally feel the building swaying very slowly, and heard a creaking sound as it moved back and forth, something like what I would expect on an old wooden sailing ship in the ocean. The buildings were made to withstand strong winds and even a 707 hitting it, so the shifting of the building that day actually bought some time.
My assistant Maria Wittek and I were stunned; we knew something bad had happened and that we should be getting out of there. We grabbed our purses, and she left right away, but I wanted to see what was going on. The association had a small office sublet from another larger association (NYSSA) and two people from that group, Mary and Wayne, were still there, although everyone else had left right away. There was smoke on the 44th floor caused from a cafeteria fire, so we waited until some of the smoke cleared in the hallway. Also, we were hoping to hear an announcement on the loudspeaker, but none came. Any other time, just a puff of smoke in the cafeteria would bring a loud announcement that everything was fine; no need to worry.
I walked down the hallways and saw debris was flying past the windows from the floors above, a couple of pictures had fallen and the glass was smashed, and the water in the toilet had spilled out onto the floor, but everything else seemed OK. I went back to my office, and in my practical nature, I grabbed a bottle of water, some Hershey’s kisses (in case we felt faint after going down the stairs). Also, since I didn’t know how long we’d be gone, I turned off the computers and the lights, and closed the door. I already had my purse over my shoulder from when it first happened and we knew we’d be leaving, just in case we had to leave quickly. In the purse was the association’s backup tape, which I carried out of the building and back to work every day because it made no sense to leave it in the office – just in case. How prescient that was! It contained the membership database, various Word and Excel files and possibly even QuickBooks information. Years later, the legend had become that I thought to grab the backup tape, or even better went back to get it, but it was in the most practical place it could be in my purse. And for all those who know me, or even those who don’t: yes, I went to the bathroom before I left, knowing it could be quite a while before I had a chance to go again (that’s when I saw the water from the toilet had sloshed out onto the floor). I also called my sister Elissa to tell her I was fine and we were leaving. I had spoken to my fiancé Tom MacMahon, who also worked with the MTA, earlier after the building stopped shaking. He told me then the building was burning but it just didn’t register.
We headed down the fire stairs, Mary, Wayne and me, and hundreds of other people. There had been several fire drills over the years and it never even occurred to us to take the elevators after our instructions to go down the stairway. It was quite orderly and calm, no panicked running but we kept up a good clip as we really didn’t know what was going on. We’d heard on the radio that a plane had crashed into the building, but it wasn’t until we were halfway down that we heard the news that two planes had been hijacked by terrorists and had crashed into both World Trade Center towers. I thought I felt a rumble while we were walking down, but was not aware until much later that the second plane hit the other tower while we were in the stairwell. Still, none of this really registered. It was too surreal, and we were just concentrating on getting out of the building.
The walk down the stairs took around 45 minutes. The last couple of floors had water rushing through the stairwell. There were dozens of policemen, firemen, and other official personnel directing everyone out of the building, and it seemed that they had the situation under control. It is distressing to think of what happened to all the people who were trying to help us. They were urging us on, saying they knew we were tired but had to keep going and please move as quickly as we could. My memory has them in a big long line, handing us off from one to the next to keep us moving and encourage us. We came out onto the mezzanine level of 1 World Trade Center, and that’s when we were first really hit with the enormity of the situation. The plaza was covered with rubble, windows were broken and there were bodies within the rubble.
The officials sent us down to the main floor, also covered in water, with water dripping from all kinds of places. We went through the revolving doors into the concourse, which had water raining down from above us for several feet, plus water on the floor. My shoes were soaked at this point which made it more difficult to move quickly. After getting through the concourse, they headed us out past the PATH train escalators, around a corner, up another escalator, and out into the street. They were urging us to move faster now, and I thought that was plenty scary. Up until then, just concentrating on getting down the stairs and being inside kept us ‘in the dark’ so to speak, although there fortunately were lights in the stairwell. But this urgency was another dose of reality, after the rubble and bodies.
We walked over a couple of blocks, and met up with another one of our people, Rosalie, but we lost Wayne in the stream of people. I later learned that everyone in MTA and NYSSA offices got out OK. Mary, Rosalie and I kept walking north, as they kept urging people to keep moving, keep moving. We could only stop and look briefly to see the two fires, one in the middle of 2 WTC and one higher up in 1 WTC. At that point we figured it would be a big mess for quite a while, but were speculating on how long it would be before we got back in the building. Even then, we still don’t really know what happened.
Not too long after we were safely over by City Hall – normally about a 5-minute walk but was at least 10-15 minutes with the crowds – we looked back to see the top third of 2 WTC topple off. A huge cloud of dust and debris started working its way up the street so we moved even faster to get away from it. We kept walking, stopping a few blocks later to rest and get a soda at a deli. We had no idea that the whole building came down, and it must have been while we were inside this deli that 1 WTC collapsed as well. When we left, we could see nothing but smoke, and were far enough away that other buildings blocked our view, and we wouldn’t have been able to see the WTC buildings even if they were still standing.
It was so frustrating not to be able to let Elissa and Tom know that I was OK. All the pay phones had big lines and cell phones were not working; besides, I didn’t even have one at that time. My thought was just to get home. Fortunately I lived right in the city and had the option to walk, so I headed north with Rosalie and Mary. All the subways and trains were completely shut down. There were ambulances and police cars all over the place heading downtown to the scene, but no other vehicles. I left Mary and Rosalie at one point where Rosalie was going to try to get a bus to Queens and Mary was going to wait at the train station until they started running to New Jersey again.
Even as I headed east, there were people in line for every payphone so I kept trudging home. It’s a few miles, and being a bit out of shape for a long walk, I was really struggling at the end. I was also getting more anxious as more time went by, knowing that people were so very worried about what had happened. Near the corner of my apartment building, I tried one last time to call Tom but the call didn’t go through. I got upstairs to the apartment and Tom wasn’t there. He was supposed to go to Connecticut for a meeting so that’s where I thought he was. I figured he left before he knew what had happened. I tried to call my sister but the phones were dead. Unbelievable!! Here I am home safe and sound and I still couldn’t let them know!
I went next door to see if the neighbor’s phone was working, but it wasn’t. She had the news on TV and I sat there for a while and drank a glass of water while she filled me in on what had actually happened. Remember, I’ve been out of the building since after 9:00 a.m. and it’s almost noon by now, with no idea what had really happened. When she told me that both buildings had collapsed, I could not even begin to believe the possibility of that. Later I found out that the first plane hit 1 WTC at 8:48 a.m., another plane hit 2 WTC about 20 minutes later. 2 WTC collapsed at 10:00 a.m. and 1 WTC collapsed around 10:30 a.m., and during all that time the Pentagon was also hit and Flight 93 went down near Shanksville, PA.
I went back to my apartment to lie down and just relish the safety of my own little snug, quiet, safe place. I was trying to decide what to do, how to let my sister know I was OK, which would have involved walking another couple of miles, when amazingly the phone rang. That is one of the many mysteries of the day, how I was not able to call out but they got through. It was Tom, and he was waiting with Elissa at her apartment — he wanted to go wait with her for any news. The two of them were – understatement of the year – extremely glad to hear my voice.
Tom started home, and Elissa said she’d call everybody since I couldn’t do so and tell all of them I was alive and well. It seems I could receive calls, because shortly after that my brother Alan called from New Mexico, and my brother Tim from Illinois. Then I went out to buy milk and cat food, again being the practical person that I am. The event had still not even begun to soak in, except in little ways like thinking I had no office to go to the next day!! While I was gone, and all during the rest of the day, I had so many calls from people hoping I was OK. I have very warm feelings knowing there are so many people that care.
As I write this, many hours after the event, I’m having my first glass of wine and still standing (well, sitting). I’m weary and ready to sleep. Only as I watch the continuous news coverage do I slowly realize how very, very lucky I am to be alive.
Weeks later: The first few days afterward, I wandered around not sure what to do with myself. My legs hurt for several days from the stairs and walking home. But I must live in denial because I still can’t accept that the entire MTA office is gone, the World Trade Center is gone, and that so many people have died. The ripple effect on the entire country and world is astounding; every day there are new stories. My personal escape story seems so ordinary in a way, I was out and safe and on my way home, truly unaware of how bad the situation was. I did not witness the planes or the collapse or the jumpers or get covered with debris and dust. But yes, I still know how incredibly lucky I am to be here. The city was very strange for the first few days, on 9/12 it was locked down tight and no one could get in or out, which was eerie.
In terms of my personal ripple effect: so many calls, e-mails, letters both from MTA members/affiliates and from people that I haven’t spoken to in months or years. My sister-in-law sent my story to the Springfield, Illinois Journal-Register, the Illinois state capital’s newspaper and the largest city near where I grew up in Illinois. They wanted to print a story with a happy ending and written by someone who was there. From that story I was contacted by a high school classmate teaching third grade. She used my story as a positive message for the children who are so confused about the situation, and the children in her class all made me cards to wish me well. That was one of the most touching things I’ve experienced in my life. I spoke to her class when I visited Illinois a couple of months after 9/11.
The MTA already had some office space in Woodbridge, NJ, so we (Maria, Tom, and me) settled into the new space. We rebooted out there and started to rebuild the Association, working on the laborious process of trying to recreate records and set up an entire new office. My heart definitely wasn’t in it the same way, and work seems so much less important now, but is at least familiar in the midst of everything being different.
September 11, 2011 – ten years after 9/11/01
How in the world can ten years have gone by already, yet that day is as clear in my mind as if it were last week? Ask me what I was doing, say at 4 pm Saturday 2 weeks ago, and I wouldn’t even know for sure, but 10 years ago is etched in my brain. People ask if I think about it, and I’d say the answer is yes, although not constantly. There are certainly enough reminders around, even the digital or computer clock that blinks 9:11 speaks to me whereas it’s just a time to other people. Mostly I remember the day-to-day before 9/11, my office, the people, and the routines. This experience also made me more empathetic when seeing the aftermath of a hurricane, earthquake or tornado and hearing people speak about losing all that’s familiar to them.
September 11, 2016 – fifteen years after 9/11/01
Not much can be added to the story and the 10-year follow-up, except to say that Tom (now my husband) and I moved to Columbus, Ohio and I am working for Cardinal Health. It’s hard to believe that 15 years have gone by!
September 11, 2021 – twenty years after 9/11/01
Wow, 20 years! Although the last couple of years have seemed like twenty with all that went on, in all seriousness it is hard to believe it has been that long since 9/11. Tom and I are still alive and well in Columbus, Ohio; sister Elissa is still in NYC. A few months back, my job with Cardinal ended, so I am technically speaking (pun intended) retired and enjoying that very much – highly recommend it!
Epilogue
One of the most amazing things to me about that day is how in the span of 20 minutes between the first and second planes hitting, almost the entire world witnessed the second plane hitting. After the first plane hit, people would call someone up and tell them to watch the news, and they would call someone, etc. It seems to me that almost everyone I ever speak to about it saw the second plane hit while watching the news about the first plane, and everyone remembers very clearly where they were.
In terms of being a WTC survivor, that’s certainly a unique group to be part of, and a group you don’t hear too much about. I don’t think they could ever know for sure how many people actually were in the building and got out, but I think it might be around 20-25,000. I heard there were about 50,000 people who worked in both buildings, a lot were not even at work yet at that time, and so many stories about people who were late or didn’t go in that day. Just on my floor alone, there were two out of town, one running late and one not due to be in until later. As people keep telling me, it just wasn’t my time to go.
So much changed in my life since then, of course many other lives and the world did, too. I worked for a small association as the administrative person who took care of everything. After 9/11, with the office now in Woodbridge, NJ, I became a reverse commuter. I stayed on with the MTA for another almost four years, for a total of 17 years, then that ended in June 2005. I took some time off to decide what I wanted to do when I grew up, then Tom and I came out to Albuquerque to house sit for my brother and while we were here did a very spontaneous thing and bought a house. We’d been talking about getting out of New York, but if we hadn’t done it that way we’d most likely still be there. I worked at home with Tom helping with his business, but then the economy and life had other plans for us, so I went back out to the work world and ended up at Cardinal Health.
