Mike Penzer's World Trade Center Experience on September 11, 2001

I would like to share my World Trade Center experience with family, friends, and colleagues. Several people have suggested to me that I write my story as a form of catharsis. Please feel free to share my story with your family and friends.

Elaine and I flew to JF Kennedy Airport outside New York City on Saturday, September 8. Our good friend, Sheldon Engler, who is also an economist, accompanied us. Sheldon and I had made plans to attend the annual meeting of the National Association for Business Economics (NABE) at the Marriott World Trade Center Hotel in New York City from September 9 to September 11. Elaine came along to enjoy the sights and sounds of New York City.

I was very impressed by the hotel, which stood 21 stories tall and was wedged between the two 110-story towers of the World Trade Center. What a powerful, majestic sight and site!

On the morning of Tuesday, September 11, Elaine convinced me to go for a walk to Battery Park, which is a few blocks south of the World Trade Center at the southern tip of Manhattan (island). It was a gorgeous morning - bright blue sky, sunny, not humid, very pleasant. We left the hotel at 8:20 a.m. EDT and walked south to the park. The walk took only a few minutes.

At 8:47 a.m., I was looking south toward the Statue of Liberty when I heard a very load explosion behind me. I turned around to look north in the direction of the World Trade Center and saw that the south side of the North Tower at about the 80th floor had exploded in flames and white and black smoke. There appeared to be confetti floating down from that level. It may have been paper, glass, steel, body parts, etc. I couldn't tell for certain. I wondered what had caused the explosion, but could only guess at that point. Later I would learn that a jet passenger plane had flown into the north side of the North Tower. In any event, the south side of the Tower was all ablaze.

About 9:03 a.m., as I was still looking north toward the Trade Center, I heard the very loud sound of a jet passenger plane flying very low behind me. I spun around and saw the plane directly above the Statue of Liberty and about to fly over our heads. Then, the plane avoided a high-rise just north of us and flew into the south side of the South Tower at about the 70th floor level. The huge plane disappeared into the even larger building, and a huge ball of flame and smoke erupted.

The whole effect was surreal. My senses could not comprehend. My brain could not compute. I literally could not believe that I was seeing these events unfold. My mind had never had to process sensory information like this. I did not know what to do. I was mesmerized and dumbfounded.

Our friend Sheldon was in his room on the 15th floor of the Marriott Hotel when the first plane hit the North Tower. (Elaine and I also had a room on the 15th floor.) When the hotel alarm system sounded, he with hundreds of other hotel guests made his way down the stairs to the lobby and then out of the hotel. We were very lucky that he decided to make his way south because by chance we met in Battery Park. He was accompanied by Sarah Carlson, an American economist from London, England. The four of us and thousands of others stood transfixed by the burning and smoking towers.

After about an hour, the South Tower collapsed and sent a huge rapidly-moving smoke and dust cloud billowing down all the streets in the Wall Street district of lower Manhattan. The crowd of several thousand in Battery Park ran for their lives toward the northeast in the direction of the Brooklyn Bridge. There was panic and screaming and utter pandemonium. The sunny blue sky grew as dark as night. The smoke and dust cloud was so thick that my eyes stung and breathing was difficult. My biggest concern at that point was the possibility of deadly toxics in the air we were breathing.

Elaine, Sheldon, Sarah, and I ran with the crowd toward the northeast - through the park, through an outdoor restaurant area, over a waist-high wall, past some warehouses by the river, etc. Then, something up ahead terrified the crowd enough that everyone turned around and ran back in our direction with many screaming. Since I thought we might be trampled to death, I grabbed Elaine's hand and ran into the very narrow space between some large garbage dumpsters. Other people joined us there including one woman who was hysterical and screaming about dying. My next concern was that we might be crushed to death if too many people tried to squeeze between the dumpsters with us.

But soon, the panic in the open area next to us subsided and we ventured forth. Sheldon and Sarah had become separated from us during the panic, and we discovered later that they had taken the Staten Island Ferry to Staten Island. Then they eventually made their way to Princeton, New Jersey to stay with the parents of a friend of Sarah's, Gus and Lynn Giviskos in nearby Stillman.

In the next block, we discovered that a delivery person had opened the back of his large delivery truck and was giving clean cloth dinner napkins to anyone who wanted them. I took two and tied them together to make a mask to cover my nose and mouth. Elaine did the same.

We continued walking northeast and discovered a small deli open on Water Street (at #42 I think). We entered the deli, which seemed to us like an oasis in the middle of the desert. The owners were very kind. We listened to radio reports there that said the Pentagon in Washington, D.C. had been hit by a jet passenger plane and that it was possible that the hijackers had commandeered a total of eight planes. Later, we found out that they had hijacked four planes altogether. We rested, processed information with other people in the deli, had something to eat and drink, and calmed down a little.

While we were there, the sky grew extremely dark again as another huge smoke and dust cloud rushed down all the streets in lower Manhattan. Later we learned that this was caused by the collapse of the North Tower.

After this second cloud had subsided somewhat, we ventured forth toward the northeast, walking through the Wall Street district, the area near the Brooklyn Bridge, Chinatown, Little Italy, Soho, and up Broadway. We spent all afternoon searching for a hotel with no luck. Exhausted and depressed, we finally found a room about 5 p.m. at the Hotel Metro at 45 West 35th Street, just east of Broadway. We were ecstatic! Finally we had a place to rest.

The flight to save our lives was over for that day. Since all of our belongings were lost in the collapse of the Marriott Hotel at the World Trade Center, we were traveling very light to say the least. Elaine, for example, had none of her heart medications, but she did buy some aspirin to tide her over until we got back to the Bay Area.

On Wednesday, September 12, we purchased some basic toiletries and clothing, and began to relax by taking a long walk up Fifth Avenue to Central Park, stopping at the Rockefeller Center, St. Patrick's Cathedral, etc. I marveled at the light traffic in Manhattan that day. It seemed like a Sunday morning. We began thinking about how we were going to get back to San Francisco. We thought we might wait to see when the airports would reopen and when United Airlines might resume flights, knowing that it might take several days. To say the least, massive uncertainty reigned at that point.

Back at the Hotel Metro at about 9 p.m., the alarm went off due to a bomb scare at the nearby Empire State Building, and we hastily ran from the hotel in the direction of Times Square (toward the northwest). Having to run for our lives twice in two days was extremely unnerving. At that point, Elaine flatly stated that we had to get out of Manhattan as soon as possible and that we were going to rent a car and drive to San Francisco. I said," Yes, ma'am." She then phoned Sheldon in Princeton, New Jersey and told him that he was going to drive with us. He certainly was surprised to hear that, but he eventually came around to agree with Elaine's plan.

On Thursday, September 13, we took a train from Penn Station to Princeton Junction, and picked up our already-reserved rental car from Hertz. We met up with Sheldon later that day and stayed with Gus and Lynn Giviskos in nearby Stillman, New Jersey that night. Gus and Lynn were the most gracious hosts and had a wonderful yellow lab named Theo (hope I have his name right). You probably know that how much I love dogs, and Theo was fantastic in helping me to relax and laugh.

Elaine, Sheldon, and I got an early start on Friday morning, September 14. We drove our rented Taurus sedan with North Carolina (the new home of the Bank of America!!) license plates from Stillman, through Princeton, and south to the Pennsylvania turnpike (I-76) just north of Philadelphia. We drove a total of 3,000 miles in four days, mostly on Interstate 80, arriving in San Francisco in mid-afternoon on Monday, September 17. We stopped at the Ritz Carlton in Chicago on Saturday morning to pick up our good friend, Fred Cannon, who was stranded there after making his way from Columbus, Ohio to Chicago a few days earlier.

I had never driven across the country before. Boy, is it big! We saw New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska, Wyoming, Utah, Nevada, and California, and stayed in motels in Montpelier, Ohio; Kearney, Nebraska; and Elko, Nevada. When I saw the Golden Gate, I almost burst out singing "San Francisco, Open Your Golden Gate." Jeanette MacDonald would have been proud.

I am writing this on October 11, 2001 now that I have calmed down somewhat. Elaine and I are so grateful to be alive. I have been irritable (thanks for being patient with me), forgetful, and distracted, and have had some nightmares, but am slowly returning to normal. I want to thank everyone for being so supportive as we tried to find our way home. I love you all. Take care. Mike.