One crisp morning in September, I packed my bags early at home in Wilton. I had to go into the office and travel later that day to the West Coast, leaving JFK for Seattle that afternoon. That was the plan. I got a morning train from Westport Saugatuck station, where I had not many years before attained a coveted Westport metro-north parking pass after years of waiting lists. For that I was grateful. But as for the day’s travels, can’t say I was looking forward to it, starting with the hour long train ride into Grand Central Station. At least I got to read on the way.
As the train rattled out of Connecticut into New York toward 125th Street Station, I got a call from Bridgette on my cell phone. It was 8 or 9 something in the morning. She was taking care of Claire at home, who was 15 months old at the time. She said that she was watching the Today show live (her mom had called her and told her to put it on), and that a plane had crashed into one of the towers at the World Trade Center. They didn’t know much at the time, and there was some speculation that maybe it was a Cessna (small single engine private aircraft) that had mistakenly taken a wrong turn. The video showed some smoke rising from the tower. I said,OK, thanks for letting me know.
A few minutes later everyone’s cell phone starting ringing on the train. A few minutes past that, the conductor came on over the train speakers. Ladies and Gentlemen, we have reports that a plane has crashed into the World Trade Towers. We are monitoring the situation and may experience delays coming into Grand Central.
As we were about to cross the Harlem River bridge, I knew we would get a view of the towers, as they were tall enough to see from the window of the train. There they were, with black smoke rising. It was an eerie sight. We slowly rolled into 125th Street Station. Everyone was wondering what was happening. What will happen?
Eventually, we pulled into Grand Central Station and disembarked. I exited via the relatively new Northwest passage exit (bypassing the Grand Concourse) which put me out onto the Madison and 47th Street exit at the base of the still-being-completed Bear Sterns world headquarters building.
As soon as I emerged onto Madison Ave, it was a surreal situation. First, there was not the usual city din. It was strange. Everyone was looking down Madison staring mouths agape at the World Trade Towers in full view on the horizon. Several people were pointing at the smoke and fire. The chatter was all about the scene south of all of us. I decided to keep moving, crossed the street making my way West cross-town to our headquarters (Morgan Stanley) at 1585 Broadway.
I started getting a sense to praying for people in the towers. I remembered just meeting my friend Rick Thorpe not that many weeks before for lunch there at the base of the towers. It struck me that my assignment was specifically to pray for the Morgan Stanley employees. We were known as Morgan Stanley Dean Witter in those days. I had led a team back in 1996 and 1997 as part of the Strategic Planning Group that analyzed the merger and Morgan Stanley’s strategic prospects with or with out Dean Witter. This led to a historic merger between Dean Witter (a retail stock-brokerage) and Morgan Stanley, the quintessential “white-shoe” institutional investment bank. The merge was sometimes referred to as white shoes and white socks.
Dean Witter had already endured such terror during the 1993 World Trade Center bombing. Now, there were 3000 employees based there, making MSDW the largest tenant of the World Trade Center.
When I got to 1585 Broadway, the lobby was full and people were leaving the building and exiting to the streets. I had my bags in tow, and was headed to the elevators. I saw my barber, Sal in the lobby and went over to him. What’s going on Sal? I asked. He answered my question with a question. He said, where did you just come from? I said, Grand Central. He immediately said, go back to where you came from. There’s nothing for you here. I was stunned, but it made sense. I said goodbye, turned straight around and left the building, and headed back across town.
Once more, I turned to praying for the Morgan Stanley employees in the twin towers as I looked downtown at the spectacle. Every avenue, you could see the towers billowing smoke. Broadway, 7th ave, 6th ave, 5th ave, Madison. I got back to Grand Central and turned out that I caught the last train back to Westport that day. After 10am, all bridges and tunnels were closed accessing Manhattan.
The train ride was crazy. People were crying all over the place. Everyone was trying to call loved ones from their cell phones, but calls were not going through. Slowly, the train made its way through the underground tunnels. There has never been anything like this situation before or since.
I kept trying to call Bridgette, but couldn’t connect. Then I tried a friend of mine Greg, and no luck. I kept trying as the train left Manhattan. Eventually, I got through to Greg. The first thing he said to me was “The Towers are Gone!” I was like, no that’s not true, I just saw them with my own eyes down the avenue blocks. He said, no, I’m telling you both towers have collapsed, there is nothing left. I couldn’t believe it, so I said, no way. Saw it myself. That’s false. He said, I watching live shots on TV and towers are gone. Nothing left but dust and rubble. It did not compute to my brain. Even if they fell, they wouldn’t just be gone? How could that be possible. But of course we now know they just pancaked down floor after floor.
I remembered back a few weeks when I sat at the base of the towers waiting for Rick to go have lunch together. I remember sitting on a bench in the concrete park below the two towers. As I gazed up, I remember being in awe at how massive these buildings were. It was biblical. Like, who has ever seen towers like these? Look at the size of them. Surreal.
Years later, I met with a wealthy Christian man who attended our church St. Paul Westport at the time. He told me a story one day at our local Starbucks, saying I probably wouldn’t believe him if he told me the story. I said, try me.
He said he was sitting on those same benches as I just a few weeks before 911. He then heard a voice say, “not one stone will be left on the other.” So, he recognized that this was out of the bible (Matthew 24:1-2 is but one mention) referring to the temple. So, he was saying something to the effect – If that’s you God, are you saying these towers are going to be torn down? And then he was like further, if this is true, should I warn people about it? Then he heard the voice again say, even if you were to tell people, they wouldn’t listen to you. He was amazed by this, and then didn’t say anything to anyone as a result.
My reaction at the time, was the Patriotic one, which most people shared together with me, including President Bush. That was something to the effect – how dare would these terrorists do this to the United States of America? We will make them pay! Those were the days that everyone bought an American plastic flag and flew it out of their car window. Every store sold them. People returned to church. Wall Street stopped laying people off. But it was short lived. Maybe 3 weeks. After that, all the church going and high patriotism for the most part went away. It was remarkable. The stock market was shut for less than a week. When it reopened, it dropped 10% in the aftermath. But by October, Wall Street resumed its aggressive layoffs. That was when I got the tap on the shoulder – Gregg there won’t be a position for you here next year.
Some years later – about 8 years later after the financial crisis of 2008/9 – I had a full turnaround in my perspective on 911. I no longer felt the Patriotic pride of the Nation, but now I saw it wholly differently. That because we had walked away from God as a Nation, and kicked Jesus out of corporate america and Wall Street, and in our pride we never saw this coming. That it was not an enemy to get revenge on, but we were our own enemy in rebelling against God, trying to achieve in our own greatness, we as a Nation needed to repent. We had become our own god. And God had lifted his protection over us with regard to the trade towers, as a type of warning. A sign. A Harbinger of what was to come if we failed to turn back to God.
Return to Me and I will return to you.
Zechariah 1:3