Everyone remembers where they were on 9/11. To my shame, I spent the morning mostly oblivious. I was working at home, where I rarely turn on TV, then picked my daughters up from school. They had early release and needed field hockey gear for the season opener, so that’s what we did. We shopped. In retrospect, it seems unbelievably trivial. It wasn’t until we got home that we turned on television and learned of the devastation. By then, both towers had collapsed, the Pentagon had been attacked and Flight 77 had crashed in Pennsylvania. The footage was horrifying. And there was nothing we could do but pray.
The next day my husband and I sat in our backyard, stunned, listening to the eerie silence in the skies, trying to process the loss of so many people. We were miles away, but the pain of the New Yorkers who’d lost so many felt very close to home. In the words of former New York governor George Pataki, “On that terrible day, a nation became a neighborhood, all Americans became New Yorkers.”
Recently I went to New York, where I had the privilege of meeting a survivor. I toured the WTC Tribute Museum and booked one of the tours they sponsor. I was astounded to find that every tour is led by either a survivor, someone who lost a family member or a resident who was personally impacted. My tour was led by Walter Masterson. On September 11, 2001, Walter was in Building Five of the World Trade Center. This is his story:
“September 11 was a lovely day. Warm, blue skies, the kind of day people might play hooky just to go sailing or to the park with their kids. As for me, I had to be at work early for an 8:30 conference call. I worked for an investment banking firm on the ninth floor of Building Five of the Trade Center.
“I was in my office, when I heard this explosive booming sound, louder than anything I’ve ever heard. I went to the window and looked down at the plaza but didn’t see anything. Just as I turned, something the size of a small car hit the plaza. From then on, the debris just rained down.
“As I watched, trying to figure out what had happened, the debris slowed and became chunks of metal, and billions of pieces of paper. Those of us on my floor quickly decided to evacuate. I checked the men’s room to make sure it was clear, then went back for some of my records. I grabbed what I could and made my way out into crowds of people trying to leave, with booming sounds all around us. I have no visual memory of this, but I later learned those sounds were bodies hitting the ground.
“The first plane had hit at 8:46. We were evacuating, walking calmly at this point. When I passed St. Peter’s Church, I did something uncharacteristic for me. I climbed the steps, went in, dropped to my
knees and started praying, thanking God for keeping me alive. Now I’m not Catholic and I don’t pray on my knees. I wasn’t even particularly religious at the time. I was just in shock because of
what I’d seen. While I was inside, I heard another huge explosion. It was 9:03 and the South Tower had just been hit. When I ran outside, fear had set in. Now people were running, and it felt like panic. Even so, if anyone fell down, someone stopped and helped them up.”
knees and started praying, thanking God for keeping me alive. Now I’m not Catholic and I don’t pray on my knees. I wasn’t even particularly religious at the time. I was just in shock because of
what I’d seen. While I was inside, I heard another huge explosion. It was 9:03 and the South Tower had just been hit. When I ran outside, fear had set in. Now people were running, and it felt like panic. Even so, if anyone fell down, someone stopped and helped them up.”
He then told us, “As we were running out, the firefighters were running in. 343 of them lost their lives that morning. It’s rare for even 100 firemen to be killed in a year. This was almost 350 in one
morning.” Walter said thousands of people donated blood that day, but most of it wasn’t used. “You either got out or you got killed,” he said.
morning.” Walter said thousands of people donated blood that day, but most of it wasn’t used. “You either got out or you got killed,” he said.
One of the most poignant moments occurred as he was sharing about contacting his daughter, who was 16 at the time. By this point, we were all in his shoes, imagining living through the terror of that morning and just wanting to be with our loved ones.
Walter said, “I had enough presence of mind to call my daughter’s school. I knew she would be worried and I wanted her to know I was ok. I left a message for her with the school receptionist, but it turned out she never got it. Subways were closed, and schools were locked down. Power was down in many areas, and phone lines were jammed. I finally got home around 1:30. As I walked in, the phone was ringing. Someone from the school was calling to see if anyone was home to pick up my daughter. They couldn’t believe I was alive. I asked to speak to my daughter, and when they put her on the phone, she couldn’t speak.” He paused, trying to compose himself, then haltingly continued. “She just sobbed into the phone.” He paused again, reliving that moment. “I didn’t even know if she liked me. She was 16. And all she could do was cry.”
Walter said he tells every tour group he leads that if there’s something they’ve been meaning to do, do it today. “Tomorrow is not guaranteed for any of us."
Walter is practicing his own advice. The World Trade Center tragedy led him to do something he’s wanted to do since he was a young man: he left investment banking to earn a masters degree in social work, and is now a practicing therapist in Manhattan. “I have a strong faith, and I’ve been blessed by life experiences that have vividly demonstrated the presence of God. I’ve always wanted to help people have the best possible life,” he said, “and now that I’m actually doing that, it’s even more fulfilling than I had imagined.”
Walter said the course of his life would’ve been different if not for September 11. That’s true for each of us by extension. The poet Mary Oliver asked, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
To survivors like Walter Masterson, I can only admire your spirit and courage. I’m grateful that you share your story with those of us who want to remember. For those less fortunate… the 2,753 victims of 9/11 and their families… we will never forget you. For these, a moment of silence.
