Ewen Wilson
U.S. Census Bureau
September, 2001

To concerned family and friends, a brief personal account:
Sept 11, 2001 dawned bright and clear in New York. I telephoned Cindy from my room in the World Trade Center Marriott to wish her a happy birthday before heading down to a breakfast meeting to hear a speech by the President of Morgan Stanley, Robert Scott. Not long into his remarks, what sounded like an massive explosion shook the building, the ballroom chandeliers tinkled violently and after a few stunned seconds people jumped up and rushed for the exits. In the hotel lobby we were directed out of
the southern end of the hotel to Liberty Street to avoid the debris raining down onto West Street.

We headed west for the Hudson River, and looking back over our shoulders could see a gaping hole high up on WTC tower 1 from which flames were raging. The horror was driven home as we saw the first of several bodies hurtling down from high in the building. I joined a colleague, Bob Parker, with a cell phone and asked him if I could call my office to let them know we were out of the building, but the phone was inoperable. We headed South down the bank of the river in search of a pay phone. No sooner had we got into a queue for the phone when the second plane flew into WTC 2 with a mighty explosion. This is when we realized that this was no accident, but we were witnessing a terrorist attack. We decided to continue our phone search at a further distance and soon found success in a parking garage where I contacted my office and asked them to let Kay and Cindy know that I was ok. After this Bob and I discussed what to do next. He decided to head uptown to catch a train to Washington from Penn Central. I thought that the trains would not be running and opted to head to the rental car facilities at La Guardia airport, hoping to rent a car to drive home.

Traffic at this point was stalled and hundreds of thousands of people were milling around, but moving in a general south-east direction towards FDR Drive on the East River. Someone told me that the Pentagon had been attacked, filling me for the first time with real panic. I did not know if Cindy was at work, and as it turned out was unable to make contact with her until I reached Hertz at La Guardia. As I was crossing Broadway, WTC 2 imploded and collapsed with huge roar. A massive wall of ash and debris
came rushing down the street at us, like a huge tidal wave with people fleeing ahead of it, covering us in dust and making it difficult to breath. Luckily I had been able to get a face mask from one of the firefighters which helped, but other people used coats, shirts etc around their faces.

I found myself in a large and mostly orderly crowd heading for the Brooklyn Bridge. As we started over the bridge, WTC 1, the north tower collapsed, changing dramatically the face of lower Manhatten. Once over the bridge in Brooklyn it became clear that there were no cabs available, so I was forced to hitch a ride from a big-hearted off-duty female cop, and then hire a robber limousine driver to take me to Hertz. That is where, to my great relief I was finally able to make contact
with Cindy.

As it turned out there were no rental cars left but I was able to pair up with another good Samaritan, and by extraordinary coincidence eventually join up with Brian (my brother-in-law, a KPMG partner who works on their Bank One account) who just happened to be in New Jersey on a business trip from Chicago. We drove together back to Falls Church, and after a nights rest, Brian continued driving to Chicago rather than wait for airports to reopen.

The TV this morning shows ghastly scenes of the staggering damage to lower Manhatten - a war zone. The Pentagon was still smoking as I drove over the 14th Street bridge to work. But traumatic as it may have been for us, many more people face personal tragedy. Thousands of people died. We, thank God, are the fortunate ones, even though it will be hard to erase some
awful images from the mind.

Thank you for your loving messages of concern.