Those Who Lived to Tell

By Carol Frank and Wendy K. Kreitzman

As we go to press, and grieve over our losses, we do have some happy endings to report. We never tire of hearing about the ''near misses'' and those who escaped the war zone known as lower Manhattan. We are so grateful for those who have survived, including the children of two of our fellow Anton editors who literally ran for their lives.

As the crushing reality of the Sept. 11 horror began to strip away the mantle of security that enveloped our country, we began to cling to the stories of heroism and the stories of the twists of fate that saved people in our community who otherwise would have been at their desks in the mighty Twin Towers.

There were those who had made a detour to vote on that piercingly beautiful fall morning. There were others who were taking the day off to help with last minute campaigning efforts. There are many stories from many thankful families.

For one young man, a stroll before going to work to stop for a bagel saved his life. Another man, at first distraught at missing his train, learned of the horror when he arrived at Penn Station. One young woman was saved by an early morning doctor's appointment, another by being true-to-form and late as usual.

One North High graduate was on an American LAX bound flight at 8 a.m., a flight she is sure was ''on a short list, passed up for some reason.'' Business class travelers had the first word of disaster, as a few were on in-flight phone calls to New York. They knew planes had been hijacked and had crashed into the Twin Towers, but they ''remained calm'' (in shock?) as the pilot announced that they were safe but had to make an emergency landing in Indianapolis, due to a national security emergency. ''It was unbelievable ... most passengers didn't fully realize until we got off and saw television reports in the airport ... we realized how lucky we were ... it could have been me.'' As with many other stranded passengers across the country, this young woman and her business associate chose to drive home to New York. While local press and others on their plane questioned their decision, they felt they had to get to New York, ''had to get home ... New York is where we live.''

One local resident (read the firsthand report on our Op. Ed. Pages) was virtually trapped way downtown. He saw the fires, saw the second plane approach (right outside his window), in air space he knew was well out-of-bounds for air traffic. He had a firsthand view of the horror, both on Tuesday, and when he returned to work on Monday and had to walk past a sight he could not even describe. Over and over again, we hear of those who viewed the devastation up close and are forever changed.

Those very cellphones, that many of us have developed a love/hate relationship with when they rudely rang at inopportune times or caused drivers to be distracted, made possible life links, hopes and words of farewell. Those of us who received those longed-for calls from a loved one who escaped will never forget how fortunate we are.

American flags were mounted as a sign of faith in the midst of despair. By Wednesday morning flags were sold out at local stores. And the first words people used in greetings were, "Are your family and friends safe?" So many other ordinary, mundane things seemed irrelevant at first and then the ordinary and mundane became islands of solace. People sought each other for comfort and to retell their stories of that morning. (And mental health experts do tell us how important it is for survivors to be able to tell their tale over and over again.)

They streamed into temples and churches and into Grace Avenue Park for vigils. They almost whispered when they sang America. They brought food and clothing to the local fire departments. And they stood in line to give blood.

Father Christopher Connell of All Saints Church serves as a chaplain for the Alert Fire Department. On Wednesday evening, he joined them to speed to ground zero to offer his aid. One of the rescue workers told him a story that has reverberated in his heart ever since. A man on the 81st floor was blown out a window and managed to cling to the window sill. As the building began to crumple, floor by floor, he continued to hold on. Father Connell says, "Although he surely must have had the temptation to give up hope, he never let go and although suffering two broken legs, he miraculously survived. Father Connell added, "This is a message to all of us: Don't let go. Don't give up hope."