The Only Plane in the Sky

by Garrett M Graff

  Madeline “Amy” Sweeney, American Airlines 11 flight attendant: The flight has been hijacked. This flight is Flight 11 from Boston to L.A. The plane is a 767. I am in the back with Betty Ong, AA flight attendant. A man in business class has had his throat slashed and is presumably dead. Number 1 flight attendant has been stabbed and Number 5 flight attendant has been stabbed. There is a bomb in the cockpit. I can’t make contact with the cockpit, can you do it? We have paged for a doctor or nurse for the flight attendants. The coach passengers don’t know what’s happening.

  The hijackers are of Middle Eastern descent. One spoke good English and one didn’t.

  It is a rapid descent. Something is wrong. I don’t think the captain is in control.

  I see water.

  I see buildings.

  We’re flying low.

  We’re flying very, very low.

  Oh my God.

  We’re flying way too low.

  * * *

  I. In her panic, Ong gave the wrong flight number.

  “Dash marks in a pile of clutter”

  * * *

  Inside Air Traffic Control

  As the hijackings began on the East Coast, civilian air traffic controllers at the FAA struggled to comprehend the sudden and unprecedented threat to the 4,000 airplanes still in the air. As they rushed to contact and scramble fighter aircraft from Otis Air Force Base in Massachusetts and Langley Air Force Base in Virginia, military units in charge of the nation’s air defense confronted a threat they’d never imagined: an attack coming not from outside the U.S. but from within its own borders. A decade after the end of the Cold War, they found the tools at their disposal scattered and insufficient. Caught off guard, they improvised a response.

  After American Airlines Flight 11 initially checked in with air traffic controller Peter Zalewski, the first warning that something had happened in the air came when the pilots ceased to respond to radio calls.

  Peter Zalewski, air traffic controller, Boston Center, Nashua, New Hampshire: When American Airlines Flight 11 came to me, the pilot said, “Boston Center, this is American 11, climbing to flight level two-three-zero.”

  I called him many, many times: “American 11, how do you hear? American 11, this is Boston Center. Do you hear me?” I’m calling and calling, and I’m like, My God! Maybe they’re drinking Dunkin’ Donuts coffee up there. Honestly, that’s what I was thinking. Then there’s these transmissions. The first transmission from the aircraft, it’s garbled to me. I don’t understand it. Then there was a second one—a voice. I remember him saying, “Nobody move, please. We’re going back to the airport.” I will never forget that feeling up the back of my neck. It was like this adrenaline or something. I felt fear. I’m like, Oh, my God! The plane’s being hijacked.

  Colin Scoggins, airspace and procedures specialist and military specialist, FAA, Boston Center: I came in at about 8:25 in the morning, and as soon as I walked to the front door someone came to me and said that there was a hijack going on. We’d worked hijacks in the past, and they were usually uneventful.

  Peter Zalewski: I yell at [the supervisor]: “John, get over here. This plane is being hijacked—absolutely.” I go, “It’s Middle Eastern voices—positive.” I could tell by the second time—I was used to working Egypt Air, Saudi, Turkish, all of them: “It’s Middle Eastern voices.”

  Colin Scoggins: Mohamed Atta, the pilot on American 11, the lead terrorist, stated something about “more planes,” that they had more planes. It was definitely plural. That’s when things really started to ramp up.

  Ben Sliney, national operations manager, FAA Command Center, Herndon, Virginia: I was the national operations manager on 9/11. That is a position located in the Washington area that has overarching authority over the nation’s airspace. That was my charge: the safe and efficient operation of the nation’s airspace.

  Col. Bob Marr, commander, NEADS, Rome, New York: There was a huddle of people around one of the radar scopes. I saw that huddle and thought, There’s got to be something wrong.

  Maj. Gen. Larry Arnold, commander of the 1st Air Force, NORAD, Tyndall Air Force Base, Florida: We had a major North American Air Defense exercise that morning, a command post exercise. There was a team of people that introduced scenarios that you have to react to and respond to. As we were winding up the [exercise] briefing my executive officer, Lt. Col. Kelley Duckett, handed me a slip of paper. Bob Marr had called and said there was a hijacking in the Boston Center Area.

  Ben Sliney: My experience with hijackings—and our protocol—was that we cooperate.

  Lt. Col. Dawne Deskins, mission crew commander, NEADS, Rome, New York: At this point our mind-set was the 1970s-vintage hijack. We didn’t have a huge concern this aircraft was going to crash.

  Maj. Gen. Larry Arnold: I said, “Bob, go ahead and scramble the aircraft.”

  Maj. Joe McGrady, F-15 pilot, Otis Air Force Base, Cape Cod, Massachusetts: A scramble order was issued. I ran to our jets. I started up. We realized we did not have any weapons. They filled up our jets with gas. Even though we were “Winchester”—which means we had no weapons—we took off.

  Lt. Col. Tim Duffy, F-15 pilot, Otis Air Force Base, Cape Cod, Massachusetts: When we took off, I left it in full afterburner the whole time. We were supersonic going down to Long Island, and my wingman, “Nasty” [Maj. Dan Nash], called and said, “Hey Duff, you’re super,” and I said, “Yeah, I know, don’t worry about it.” I wanted to get there.

  Col. Bob Marr: At Mach One, it would take them 16 minutes to get there—that’s 10 miles a minute.

  Lt. Col. Kevin Nasypany, mission crew commander, NEADS, Rome, New York: Almost simultaneously, we brought in more surveillance technicians to look at the scope.

  Staff Sgt. Larry Thornton, NEADS: The area was so congested, the hijacked flight was incredibly difficult to find. We were looking for little dash marks in a pile of clutter on a two-dimensional scope.

  Master Sgt. Joe McCain, NEADS: We picked up a search track going down the Hudson Valley, straight in from the north toward New York. The plane was fast and heading in an unusual direction with no beacon [transponder]. We watched that track until it faded over New York City.

  Lt. Gen. Tom Keck, commander, Barksdale Air Force Base, Shreveport, Louisiana: We were in the midst of this big annual exercise called GLOBAL GUARDIAN. They loaded all the bombers, put the submarines out to sea, put the ICBMs at nearly 100 percent. It was routine, you did it every year. A captain said, “Sir, we had an aircraft hit the World Trade Center.” I started to correct him, saying, “When you have an exercise input you have to start by saying, ‘I have an exercise input.’ That way it doesn’t get confused with the real world.” Then he pointed me to the TV screens in the command center. You could see smoke pouring out of the building. Like everyone else in aviation that day, I thought, How in a clear-and-a-million day could someone hit the World Trade Center?

  “This will be the worst day of our lives”

  * * *

  The First Plane

  At 8:46 a.m., American Airlines Flight 11 roared south through the sky over Manhattan, traversing the length of the island, surprising city-goers, before it crashed into the North Tower, known as One World Trade Center, at about 465 miles per hour.

  William Jimeno, officer, PAPD, at the Port Authority Bus Terminal: A shadow came over 42nd and Eighth Avenue. It completely covered the street for a split second.

  Chief Joseph Pfeifer, Battalion 1, FDNY: In Manhattan, you rarely hear planes because of the tall buildings. We all looked up. In almost disbelief, we saw the plane pass, and it was flying so low. Our eyes followed it as it passed behind the buildings, and then it reappeared. It aimed right into the building.

  Juana Lomi, paramedic, New York Beekman Downtown Hospital: I was standing outside, and I heard a rumbling sound—it sounded like a truck, but it was too loud.

  Cathy Pavelec, administrator, Port Authority, North Tower: I worked in One World Trade Center, on the 67th floor. I had a w
indow office that faced north. I glanced out the window and I saw the plane—it was a little bit over to my right and I noticed that it was very low. I had worked in the World Trade Center since before it had officially opened, and we’d seen a million things over the years. As I watched, the plane got closer and closer and closer. I was in complete disbelief.

  Bruno Dellinger, principal, Quint Amasis North America, North Tower, 47th floor: Everybody’s heard plane engines, except very few people have heard the sound of plane engines when they’re at full strength, full force, flying up in the sky. That is a horrifying sound. I still remember it very clearly—the sound of the engines flying at full force toward the World Trade Center.

  Cathy Pavelec: I watched the fuselage disappear into the building.

  Ian Oldaker, staff, Ellis Island: At 9:00 a.m., every morning, was the first staff boat from Battery Park over to Ellis Island. I stopped at Au Bon Pain and got a croissant. I was continuing down Broadway. Then I heard the largest POP. I turned around, and I saw glass—lots of glass—in the sky. It was really bright out, and it was reflecting off the glass and the sky. Light shimmering everywhere.

  NYPD Sgt. Mike McGovern was with Chief of Department Joseph Esposito, just pulling into One Police Plaza, the department headquarters, a few blocks from the World Trade Center.

  Sgt. Mike McGovern, aide to the chief, NYPD: We heard a tremendous explosion or bang. We thought it was something above us, because we were directly under the Brooklyn Bridge. We pulled up to the checkpoint at police headquarters and there was a cop manning his post. We find out after the fact this particular cop, Pete Crane, was a pilot. He said into the radio, “Central, be advised that a 767 just struck the North Tower of the World Trade Center.” Chief Joe jumped out of the car and he said, “What did you say?”

  Joe Esposito, chief of department, NYPD: I said, “How did you know it was a 767?” He said, “I’m a pilot.” I said, “Are you sure?” He said, “I saw—.” I said, “Okay.”

  Sgt. Mike McGovern: We turned the car around and went.

  Peter Johansen, director of operations, New York Waterways ferries: Honestly, I think most people felt it was a navigation accident. The reason I say that is our ferry continued around to Pier 11, the Wall Street terminal, and there were about a hundred people on board. Every single one of them got off and went to work that morning. As they’re walking off, there are envelopes and letters floating down from the sky.

  Brian Conley, resident, Lower Manhattan: It looked like a ticker-tape parade.

  Chief Joseph Pfeifer: I told everybody to get in the rigs because we were going down there. I picked up the department radio and told them a plane hit the World Trade Center, and to transmit a second alarm. That was done immediately. That was the first official report.

  Jared Kotz, Risk Waters Group: One of my friends came out of an office, yelling, “Which building is the conference in?” I thought, Gee, what are you so excited about? You’ve got plenty of time to get down there. I yelled, “It’s One World Trade Center.” He replied, “No, no! Which building is it? Is it the one with the tower on it?” I walked down to the south side of my office and looked out to verify that indeed it was the Tower with the radio tower. At that moment, I realized something terrible had happened. I saw a large gaping hole and the sky full of what could only be described as confetti—millions of sheets of white paper, floating like confetti in the sky, floating east from the World Trade Center.

  Ian Oldaker: I heard the fire engines. I went east to see what was going on back there. It was much more exciting than eating my croissant.

  * * *

  Flight 11 hit between the 93rd and 99th floors, exploding 10,000 gallons of jet fuel into the offices of the investment firm Fred Alger Management, on the 93rd floor, and Marsh & McLennan, which occupied floors 93 up to 100. At Fred Alger Management, 35 people died; at Marsh & McLennan, 295. The crash immediately destroyed all exits from the floors above, leaving trapped 702 employees and visitors at the bond trader Cantor Fitzgerald on the top floors, from 100 to 105, all of the employees, conference-goers, and diners on the 106th and 107th floors at Windows on the World, as well as one engineer for NBC, William Steckman, working on the 110th floor to operate the broadcast antenna that topped the tower. The crash released a jet-fuel-based fireball that shot down at least one elevator shaft and exploded through the lower floors and the tower’s West Street lobby. Thick, black smoke engulfed the upper floors and light northwest winds carried the smoke over the roof of the South Tower.

  Robert Leder, executive, SMW Trading Company, North Tower: Our office was on the 85th floor. I was looking out the window, facing the Empire State Building, when I saw the plane come into the building. There was such a dramatic change of atmospheric pressure. The building swayed from the impact, and it nearly knocked me off my chair. Our ceiling imploded. Some of our walls began to implode.

  Richard Eichen, consultant, Pass Consulting Group, North Tower, 90th floor: I’m one of five survivors from the 90th floor of the North Tower. I didn’t have the key to my office, and that’s what saved my life. I was waiting outside, reading the Times—a section on Dell computers, I mean, the random things that you remember—leaning against the wall with my briefcase, my coffee cup on the floor, eating a bagel, waiting for these guys to show up.

  All of a sudden, I heard the loudest sound, “Bang,” I’ve ever heard. Hugely, immensely loud. Then all of a sudden I heard, “Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom.” Which I now think was the airplane tearing out the girders inside, followed by another “Boom!” Everything exploded in flames. The ladies’ room door actually burst out against its hinges, and out came a fireball—it singed the second wall. That’s how far out it came.

  Harry Waizer, tax counsel, Cantor Fitzgerald, North Tower: I was in the elevator at 8:46 in the North Tower when the first jet hit the Trade Center. My office was on the 104th floor. I had gone up to the Sky Lobby on 78, and I’d made the transition over to the local elevators—I was somewhere between 78 and 104.

  Jean Potter, Bank of America, North Tower, 81st floor: I was thrown out of my chair—like thrown. It was this horrible loud explosion, and the building started rocking back and forth, and smoke filled the air immediately. We fortunately were right by a staircase because our floor was fully involved with fire. I heard of maybe four or five survivors from above us.

  Vanessa Lawrence, artist, North Tower, 91st floor: I had literally put one foot out of the elevator on the 91st and was thrown to the side. Smoke and debris blasted down the corridor, the building shook.

  David Kravette, bond broker, Cantor Fitzgerald, ground-level lobby of the North Tower: All of a sudden jet fuel blasted out of the central elevator bank and mushroomed everywhere. People were—20 yards from me—lifted on this fireball and thrown through those lobby windows and incinerated.

  Cathy Pavelec, administrator, Port Authority, North Tower, 67th floor: I ran around the floor yelling, “A plane crashed into the building. We have to get out of here.”

  Vanessa Lawrence: I don’t remember hearing anything. My memory is in silence and slow motion, but I know it was all happening very quickly and very loud.

  Richard Eichen, consultant, Pass Consulting Group, North Tower, 90th floor: I saw off my left shoulder an Asian man coming toward me—he looked like he had been deep-fried. He had his arms out, and his skin was hanging like seaweed. He was begging me to help him. He said, “Help me, help me,” and then did a face-plant right between my legs. He died between my legs. I looked down, and that’s when I saw my shirt was full of blood. I didn’t know before that I had been hurt.

  You could smell fuel. I had no idea what happened. I could see in the elevator shaft—floor-to-ceiling flames. It looked like a shower curtain shimmering. It’s funny the things that you do in the situation—I put my bagel down in the entranceway and said, “I have to remember when it’s over, I have to pick up the bagel and throw it away.”

  Robert Leder, executive, SMW Trading Company, North T
ower, 85th floor: The first thing that came to my mind was to call my wife. I told her that the World Trade Center had been hit by a plane. She didn’t believe me. Right after I spoke with her, I opened a door to see what was going on, and this black billowing smoke came straight at us. I shut the door right away. The whole office reeked of jet fuel.

  Vanessa Lawrence: When the blast hit, the first thing that came into my head was, Did I leave my tote by an electrical socket? It was that horrible thing, Oh, my God! How am I going to explain this? Even going down the stairs, it was still, Was this me? What if this is my fault?

  Anthony R. Whitaker, World Trade Center (WTC) commander, PAPD, North Tower ground-level lobby: I saw two people out of the corner of my left eye. They were on fire. They ran toward me, and then they ran right past me. They issued no sound. All their clothes were burnt off, and they were smoldering.

  David Kravette: One of the girls who worked with me, Lauren Manning, was coming into the lobby when that fireball came down, and it took her through the glass. She was burned over 80 percent of her body and survived. If I was 20 yards further along in my walk, I would be dead or severely burned. There was no fire afterwards. It literally exploded out, burned itself out, and disappeared within seconds. It was three, four, five seconds at most.

  Harry Waizer: The elevator started to fall. It burst into flames. I had a briefcase, a cloth briefcase, in my hand, and I was using it to try to beat out the flames. I was burned on my legs and on my arms. The elevator initially was plummeting, then an emergency system kicked in, because it started gliding. As it was going, I got hit in the face by a fireball that came in through the gap between the elevator doors and the body of the elevator. I have this impression of this orange ball coming at my face and a sensation—I can’t call it a burning—of it making contact and then it was gone.