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Tuesday, September, 18, 2001, 9 a.m. When the first plane hit, I was outside near the corner of South End
and Liberty Streets after dropping my kids off to school. I ran to my apartment, got
my wife and went to pick up my first child at nursery school. We were on the
esplanade near Steamers Landing when the second plane flew overhead and hit. I took
both my wife and child across the river by powerboat and then came back to dock at Pier
25. From there, I went down the bikeway to PS 89 to pick up my second son. We
then motored back across the harbor to Jersey City. What we saw, while very traumatic, was only a fraction of what other
people experienced. We were out of the area before the buildings collapsed.
When I think of those with loved ones who are missing and the families of the brave
rescue workers who rushed in, my heart stops. While I was unable to communicate, many members worked together to
create an email network for club members. Principally among these were Stephen Yip and
Jean Yves Noblet who helped knit people together and spread communication. Thank you
and thank you to all of the other members who helped. Yesterday, I was able to return to Battery Park City to inspect the
club and retrieve my computer. What I saw was numbing. Driving down the
Westside Highway, I passed rows of refrigerator trucks. There were huge piles of
relief supplies under tents. I checked in at Pier 40 with a friend and we were
driven down to Battery Park City by truck. Two relief workers were assigned as
escorts and then we proceeded to North Cove after passing several security check points. The plaza in front of the World Financial Center was filled with
emergency workers moving in every direction. The scale of the operation was
monumental. Electricians were laying miles of cable. Huge generators trucks
were running. Mountains of plywood and lumber stood by ready. Carpenters were
hammering, sawing and building. Armed soldiers stood guard. And everywhere you
looked, there were exhausted firemen. The buildings facing the Trade Centers were severely damaged. A
corner facade of the American Express building was broken off. The Winter Garden
looked perfect from the water, but you could see through the glass that the framing facing
the Trade Centers was twisted and destroyed. Up the street, the Deutsche Bank
building had much of its front carved away. Windows were out everywhere facing the
Trade Center. Fires were still burning and smoke rising into the air. The
scale of the damage is monumental. The relief operation is a vast undertaking. Thousands of people
are working around the clock. There are facilities to offer food and drink and there
are people to provide support. Although I was there for the attack and have seen
pictures since, I was not prepared for the enormity of what is happening. Unless you
are there, it is near impossible to comprehend. I was able to walk down the club docks
which were are still covered in
debris. Most of the other areas have already been cleared to facilitate the rescue
work. The debris is more than 2 inches thick in many places. It consists of
fine dust which is pulverized concrete and wall board. The rain caused the dust to
harden. Mixed into the dust are thousands of papers reminding us of the humanity.
There are business cards, receipts, a box for pens, notes and stationary. I
saw a family picture, torn in half at some point before it happened to land on our docks. While at the dock, I put second spring lines on all the boats in case
any broke before the area is re-opened. We also retied several bows lines which had
snapped. The boats themselves appear in fairly good condition apart from a few
damaged spots where they banged. But the clean up operation will be huge. The floating clubhouse is in bad shape. On the morning of the
attack I had left the door open. The inside was now covered by thick dust.
Everything, the computers, fax, phones, electrical equipment, engines and ice maker
were covered with thick soot. Even the dock boxes were filled with soot. There
was nothing more to do at the club at this time and so we departed. As I was leaving Battery Park City, I walked by a bench. There
were a group of four firefighters. Three were sitting down with their coats open and
heavy boots peeled down. They were looking straight ahead blankly. The fourth
was lying down fast asleep. They were covered in soot and dust. They were on
break from digging at ground zero. In one of the most beautiful areas in the foremost city of the world,
beauty, devastation, hope, determination and despair whirl together in a surreal dance.
The humanity of this terrible attack and the steely resolve of the people to fight
back make me stop. I have never been more proud to be a New Yorker. When the next
plane flies in, I want to be there to say, "Stop." When the city rebuilds,
I want to be there to carry bricks and mortar. And when our losses are known, I
want to be there holding hands. At this stage, we do not expect the club to reopen this season except
in a symbolic way. We must proceed one day at a time for a while. Not all of our members will get this note. And for those who do
not, pray. As soon as time allows, the website will be updated. The club
will also establish a temporary telephone. In the meantime, I ask for your patience.
It is important to carry on. It is essential to carry on - to fight back.
But without being there in person, you can not imagine the scope of what has
happened and what needs to be done. The most important thing each member can do
right now is contribute patience and help take care of those members who are suffering
loss. There will be many opportunities in the weeks and months ahead to
contribute, to help rebuild and to show the determination of our city and our way of life. The future can not come soon enough. But today, we all must
hold hands and walk together through this valley of dust, rubble, sorrow and humanity.
God bless you all. - Michael W. Fortenbaugh - Commodore - Manhattan Sailing Club |
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