by Fox, Ella
Shaelyn— September 2001
New York weather was a little bit all over the place. When we first arrived it was humid, or at least it felt that way to Tia and me because Las Vegas was damn near bone dry. No sooner did we acclimate to the humidity of the city than it started to cool off a bit, not that we were complaining. The day before had been dreary and a little bleh, so I was happy to see the sun shining. I’d been spoiled by the sunshine in both Vegas and California, so opening the curtains that covered the windows in the bedroom of our junior suite after I finished getting dressed to find that the sky was a brilliant blue and the sun was shining did not suck.
I sipped at the lukewarm coffee I’d gotten from room service an hour before while I watched people down below walking through the large courtyard. Although I was too far away to see their faces I could tell they were on the go and busy, the same as most New Yorkers. Part of the beauty of staying in a hotel that wasn’t in Times Square was people watching as men and women went about their day-to-day life. Garrett had tried to get me to stay in a luxury hotel or in the multi-million dollar apartment that his agent owned, but I’d said no. Tia and I were happy in our suite at the Hilton, and I liked being so close to Dr. Cohen’s office.
Turning from the window, I looked to the bed Tia was in. We joked that the room we shared, each of us in our own queen bed, was our chance to live out what life would’ve been like if we’d gone to college together and lived in a dorm. It wasn’t much like a dorm at all, but it fulfilled our childhood dream of living together.
Tia was sitting up in the bed, having only woken up about ten minutes before.
“It’s a perfect day out,” I said, gesturing to the window. “Do you want to go to that amazing café in the village for breakfast after my appointment is over?”
She stretched her arms and nodded but whatever she was about to say was halted when a loud roar filled the room. A second later there was a booming sound unlike anything I’d ever heard before. It felt like everything shook, and my immediate thought was that we were having an earthquake. They didn’t happen a lot on the east coast, but they weren’t unheard of. If there was one thing I hated, it was earthquakes.
I dropped my coffee mug and ran for the bed Tia was on. Right before I got close enough to dive onto her mattress, I realized that she was white as a sheet. Eyes wide and jaw open, she was frantically pointing to the window. Skidding to a halt, I turned and looked over my shoulder.
My eyes bulged as I took in the difference from the view of the World Trade Center buildings I’d been staring at just two minutes before. Now there was smoke billowing from one of the buildings and what looked like thousands upon thousands of pieces of paper were floating through the air.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“Something exploded,” Tia answered, the tone of her voice high.
I thought of the World Trade Center bombing that had happened in the early nineties in the parking garage. I’d been too young to remember it, but since Tia and I were playing tourist while we were in New York we’d done tons of research on places to go. Just the week before we’d had lunch at the Windows on the World restaurant in the north tower. Whatever was causing the smoke and debris that was coming out of that building hadn’t originated in the garage. This was far higher up than that.
Tia got out of bed, and the two of us walked to the window to get a better look. I said a silent prayer for the people who had to be trying to get out of the building right then.
“Hold on, let me get the controller so I can turn on the TV,” Tia said. “I’m sure the news will break in to tell us what’s going on.”
There was a lot of cursing when she got back to her bed and didn’t immediately find the remote. I heard the sounds of pillows and her comforter hitting the floor as she tore her bed apart looking, but I couldn’t turn away from the window. It felt like there was a never-ending downpour of debris, a paper rainstorm that showed no signs of stopping.
“Fucking finally!” she shouted.
Seconds later, the TV that sat on the dresser went on. She flipped through the channels to CNN. It was less than four or five minutes since whatever happened at the Trade Centers happened, but they already had live footage. When the anchor said a plane hit the building, Tia gasped.
“Holy shit—did she really just say it was a plane?” she asked.
I nodded, but didn’t get to answer because they were going to a live interview with someone who saw it happen. When the man said it was a jet that crashed into the building, my jaw dropped.
“How could a jet crash into one of those towers?” I muttered. “It’s not like they’re invisible.”
Turning away from the TV, Tia and I walked to the window. The unbelievable amount of black smoke that was billowing out made it clear that the fire within was catastrophic. Debris continued to rain out of the building and for some reason it made me think of a snow globe that was being shaken too hard.
Our phone rang, so I hurried to the bedside table and picked it up.
“This is Gary from the front desk—”
“Did a plane really hit the tower?” I interrupted.
“That’s what they’re saying on the news, but we’ve not gotten confirmation of that from NYPD or FDNY yet. Right now, our main concern is calling all of the guests and advising you all to stay in because of the falling debris, a lot of which is glass. The fire department and the police will let us know when it’s safe to go out.”
“They can handle this, right? There has to be a fire plan… right?”
Gary agreed that there had to be, but the tone of his voice indicated that he wasn’t sure. After I assured him we would stay indoors, I hung up and went back to the window to watch what was going on. Tia and I let out horrified sounds at the exact same moment when we realized that the large mass we saw falling wasn’t debris—it was a man.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”
I barely had the words out of my mouth before I saw someone else jump. Beside me, Tia grabbed my hand as she said the Hail Mary prayer. The third time she said it I joined in. We stood there for a few minutes, reciting the prayer every time another person jumped. It was agony to know there was absolutely nothing we could do as another person made the choice to jump because whatever was going on in that building was hell.
I couldn’t stop thinking that each jumper was someone’s father, mother, husband, wife, sister, brother, cousin, or best friend. They had lives and people who loved them and in the blink of an eye, they were gone.
The need to talk to Garrett was all encompassing. Letting go of Tia’s hand, I hurried to the phone and dialed his cell. My anxiety rose with each unanswered ring. A quick glance at the clock reminded me that although time seemed to be flying by, it was just nine in the morning, which meant he was probably in the shower. I didn’t normally call him until a quarter after, when I was on my way to therapy. When I got his voicemail, l left a message telling him one of the towers was on fire and the news said a plane hit it. I also said I wouldn’t be going to therapy, so he should call me instead—but to make sure to leave a text for Alan so he could let Goldie know I was fine. After repeating that I was fine, I said that I loved him. Hanging up, I called out to Tia. “You should call your parents and let them know you’re okay.”
She was just turning my way when a loud roar, just like the one we’d heard only a few minutes before, filled the room. This time it was even louder, and the boom that followed was so massive that it shook the building. Tia let out a small scream as a fireball exploded from the other tower. Behind me, I heard someone yelling on the TV that the building had exploded. Within a minute or so, the anchor said they were being told a second plane was involved.
Between one breath and the next, everything changed. One plane flying into one building could be an accident but a second plane flying into the one right next door within minutes? My mind couldn’t comprehend exactly what might be happening, but my fight or flight response kicked in hard. So
mething was happening—something so bad, it meant staying in the hotel was no longer an option. We weren’t safe there.
“Get your shoes on,” I yelled. “We have to go!”
I grabbed my cellphone, my purse, and Tia’s backpack while she stepped into her sneakers. I was dimly aware that she was only wearing sleep shorts and a tee shirt, but I didn’t care. We needed to get out, fuck clothes. As soon as she had her shoes on she got her phone from her bedside table and we hurried from the room.
It was pandemonium in the hallway as one door after another flung open to reveal another wide-eyed, panicked guest who was doing the same thing Tia and I were—getting the hell out. As we waited for the elevator, a voice came over the loudspeaker advising us to evacuate the hotel. By then I was shaking so badly it was a miracle I was still standing.
Tia and I clung to each other as we waited for the elevator. All around us, people were talking. Some decided to try the stairs, others were cursing how high up we were. The voices of two businessmen discussing what was going on drowned everything else out for me with the use of one word.
Terrorism.
I knew Tia heard it too because her entire body jerked like she’d been electrified. Everyone around us went silent as the ramifications of that word sank in.
“Are you serious?” a woman in a yellow bathrobe asked in a wobbly voice. “Could that really be what this is?”
Both of the businessmen nodded. “Yeah,” the one with the red tie said. “There’s no way two planes flew into north and south towers due to faulty radar or lack of visibility. Did you look out your window this morning?”
The woman in the yellow bathrobe nodded.
“Then you know there wasn’t a cloud in the sky,” red tie said. “This was no accident. Mark my words—America is under attack.”
I wanted to believe he was wrong but two planes flying into two buildings hadn’t been an accident. The elevator finally opened, revealing a half-full car. About fifteen of us crammed in like sardines lined up front to back, all desperate to get down to the main level. Progress was slow since we stopped on every floor, and every time the door closed, I prayed that we wouldn’t get stuck, or worse.
What if a plane flew into our hotel? What if I never saw Garrett again?
It took so long to get to the lobby that more than half of the people in the elevator were in tears. Most of us were strangers, but we all did our best to comfort the people who were having the hardest time. Tia and the two older women immediately in front of us prayed, and several of us joined in.
When the elevator opened to the lobby, I shed a few tears of my own. We’d made it to the ground level. That had to be good, right?
Hotel staff directed us out a side entrance, and we all hurried toward it. Outside, several police officers were yelling for us to run and keep our eyes focused on what was ahead of us. My breath caught in my throat, and my stomach dropped as the ramifications of that instruction hit me. People hadn’t just been jumping from the side of the building I’d been looking out on from the hotel room. I realized that each thud I heard was another person falling to their death. I felt tears on my cheeks but knew there was no time to stop, not even to pray.
The acrid stench of the burning building filled the air and the never-ending downpour of debris we’d seen when we looked out the window in our room was growing by the minute.
Even with my eyes trained straight ahead one incontrovertible truth was apparent. Things weren’t getting better.
They were getting worse.
Chapter Sixteen
Garrett— September 2001
I whistled and kept an eye on the time as I toweled off from another lackluster shower in the bathroom of the cottage I was renting at the Chateau Marmont. It was okay, though. Even the shit water pressure couldn’t bring me down. Soon, I told myself, I’d be showering at home—glorious goddamn water pressure, multiple jets, and a never-ending stream of hot water—with my wife.
Every day brought me closer to being in New York with Shaelyn, and I couldn’t wait. The progress she was making wasn’t just what I’d hoped and prayed for—it was better. She still had the pain of losing Melody, but she was dealing with and processing it better.
After throwing on a pair of navy basketball shorts and a gray tee, I picked up my BlackBerry from where it was charging next to the hotel bed—another thing I wouldn’t miss when I left—and headed into the living room. Grabbing the TV remote off the table, I hit the power button as I dropped onto the sofa. Lifting my phone to look at the time, I frowned when I saw I’d missed a call from Shae. She hadn’t had a panic attack in a few weeks, but maybe that had changed.
Hitting the button for voicemail, I lifted the phone to my ear. Across the room, I noticed the words ‘breaking news’ on the bottom of the screen. Looking up, I saw a tight shot of billowing smoke coming out of a building but before I could focus on it, the voicemail Shaelyn left started to play.
Hi honey, I’m guessing you’re in the shower. I wanted to let you know I’m not going to go to therapy today. One of the Trade Center towers is on fire and the news is saying a plane hit it. It’s pretty intense… Before you call me back please shoot a text to Alan and let him know that everything is fine so he can tell Goldie when she wakes up. This is all over CNN so I know she’ll panic if she sees it without being told all is well. You don’t need to panic either. I promise that I’m fine. Call me when you get this. I love you.
Realizing that must be the breaking news on CNN, my eyes went right to the TV. My stomach dropped as I read the words on the bottom of the screen. Two planes crash into towers of World Trade Center.
My brain felt like it skidded to a halt. Narrowing my eyes, I read the chyron again. Sure enough, the wording was the same. Two planes had crashed into the World Trade Towers.
Two? Shaelyn had said one, which meant the second would’ve happened after she hung up.
Jesus. The smoke coming out of those buildings was massive. With my free hand, I fumbled for the remote and turned up the volume just as the anchor said they were going to replay the shot of a plane flying into the second tower. My breath caught in my throat as I watched a plane fly into the building, a huge fireball exploding on impact.
Two planes flying into those buildings wasn’t a coincidence or an accident. My heart slammed too hard against my chest as I hit the speed dial to call Shaelyn. It wasn’t connecting, so I hung up and tried again. When I got an all circuits are busy recording I felt sick. Jesus fucking Christ—the Hilton she was staying at was in the financial district, right smack dab in the middle of what was going on. Unable to sit still, I got up and started pacing the room as I tried calling her cell phone again, and again. Racing into the bedroom, I yanked open the drawer of the bedside table and picked up the notepad that I’d written the direct line to the Hilton on. Once again I got an all circuits are busy message.
I tried calling from the landline phone on the nightstand but got the same message. With my cell phone in one hand so I could continue trying to get through to Shae, I picked up the cordless phone on the dresser and called Harry.
I wasn’t surprised that he answered on the first ring. I swore the bastard never slept. “What’s up?” he asked.
“Two separate planes were flown into the Trade Center towers this morning. I need you to get me on a plane to New York as soon as humanly possible.”
“What?”
“You need to turn on CNN and look at this—it’s insanity. I can’t fucking get a hold of Shaelyn because all the goddamn lines are busy. She called while I was in the shower and left me a message saying she was okay, but I can tell from the time stamp and what she said that she left that before the second plane hit.”
In the background, I heard his TV was on. “Holy… fuck. What the hell is going on?” he murmured.
“I don’t know but I can’t have my wife in a city where planes are flying into buildings while I’m almost three thousand miles away. Get me a plane to New York—I don’t ev
en care if it’s a commercial flight. Whatever gets me out of here the fastest is what I want.”
“I’m on it,” he answered. His normally calm and assured voice was tighter than usual. “I’ll call you back as soon as I’ve got the details.”
Shaelyn had asked me to text my uncle but that wasn’t happening. After hanging up with Harry I dialed Alan’s phone and waited for him to pick up. He answered on the fourth ring.
“Hey,” he said, his voice drowsy from sleep.
“You’re going to want to get up and turn the TV on. There’s a situation in New York and I can’t get ahold of Shaelyn.”
I heard movement, like he was sitting up in bed. “What situation?”
I quickly filled him in on what I knew. Two planes, two buildings, Shaelyn’s message saying she was okay, and the fact that I couldn’t get through to her because the phone lines were jammed.
“Let me wake Goldie up and fill her in. Keep trying Shaelyn’s phone— after I talk to Goldie I’ll call you back. We’ll try calling her, too. It can’t hurt to have all of our phones dialing her. One of us has to get through eventually.”
If he’d said turning in a circle eighty-six times while singing the alphabet would increase the chances of getting ahold of her, I’d have done it. After I hung up with him, I called my parents’ house. When my mom answered the phone, I quickly filled her in. The call was cut short when my other line rang.
“Shae?”
“It’s me,” Alan said. “The footage we’re seeing on TV is chilling and Goldie is freaking out. What’s the plan here?”
I told him that I had Harry working on getting me on the first available flight to New York.
“Call me back as soon as you know anything about that. We’re going to keep calling Shae’s phone— if you get to her before we do, let us know. We’ll do the same.”
After I hung up with my uncle I continued calling Shaelyn’s phone. The more I got the all lines are busy message, the more frantic I got. It felt like hours were passing, but in reality it was only about thirty minutes.