September 11, 2001

Tim Lees ’81, business administration, was working as an international money broker for Euro Bank, Inc. on the 84th floor of the World Trade Center’s Tower Two when the first plane hit Tower One. The following quotes were taken from a Missoulian story by Betsy Cohen.

“A hole had been blown out and it was apparent there was a raging fire billowing out of the hole. At that point I went back to my desk. Most of the banks we speak to had already seen on TV that a plane had crashed into the other tower and urged us to flee. Curiously there were some people — about sixty — that stayed behind on the floor and thought everybody was overreacting, or didn’t understand the severity of it. I was trying not to panic because I thought a lot of people I work with were overly jumpy because of the bombing in 1993. I was trying to keep my head on straight. ... I realized it was worse when I saw a bunch of people jumping out the window — like birds flying. Once I saw people jumping, I bolted and I told everyone who was there that things were getting bad and it was time to leave. ... We were the last people to get on that elevator. ... Three steps out of the elevator, the second plane hit between floors 65 and 70. ... There was screaming and sirens everywhere. There were a lot of people down, obviously downed by debris, and a person clutching his chest — an apparent heart attack. You were running as fast as you could. I’ve lost a few steps since I graduated, but I didn’t see too many people passing me.”

Nate Schweber ’01, journalism, was arriving for work as an intern at Rolling Stone magazine in Manhattan. The following was drawn from a dispatch to the Montana Kaimin.

“When I got off the subway and looked south down Sixth Avenue, I could see smoke billowing from one of the towers. Thousands of people seeped from the bottom of the skyscraper canyon, cell phones at ear, and gaped at the wreckage. We were about sixty blocks away. The burning tower seemed to shake, then a half second later it crumbled from the top to the bottom. The building seemed to pour outward as it fell, like someone split it by jabbing a shovel down the middle. I think I felt people gasp, I know I saw them cry. All I heard were sirens. I ran down to the street and headed south against the flow of foot traffic. The streets were jammed curb to curb with pedestrians who parted for the onslaught of emergency vehicles. ... I followed the smoke, which stretched halfway up to the sky to the noontime sun, about sixty blocks south to Canal Street in Chinatown. There NYC police set up a blockade to herd people north. I tried to bust through with a wind sprint only to be manhandled back by three of NYC’s finest. I watched hundreds of folks walk out of the dust cloud with surgical masks over their noses and mouths. I saw one disheveled man in a black suit covered in gray soot from top to toe. His jacket was torn, his briefcase was slashed, one shoe was missing and he had soot caked onto all his exposed skin. Every time he moved, puffs of soot rose from his clothes.”

Army Capt. Firman Ray ’91, business administration, was working in the Pentagon as a program analyst for the Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff for Personnel.

“I was in a big open room with cubicles. My wife, Sheila, called me and asked me If I knew what was going on, so I went into my boss’ office about ten feet away. It had three walls around it. I was in there because he had a T.V. There were only two of us in the colonels’ office when it happened. A lot of the others [who had been watching news accounts] had gone back to their cubicles or had meetings. As I was sitting there on my boss’ desk, there was an enormous explosion, like a concussion-type sound that knocked me off the desk and to the floor. We had a suspended ceiling and all of the wiring there began coming down around us. I rolled underneath his desk. ... I looked up and saw that everything was kind of safe, but it was hard to see anything but a big black dust cloud engulfing the whole area. I crawled out of the office and I heard some voice to the right. I crawled a little ways and then stood up at a place where I could breathe and then I saw people being evacuated. We went out into the fourth corridor and started out and found that a fire door had closed on us and we learned we had to go toward the A ring. I was concerned with the structural damage. Things were falling all around us and there was thick black smoke. I thought it might be one of a series of attacks. ... I know a lot of the people that were in my bay that have been confirmed dead. Within my office, more than twenty were killed and wounded.”

September 13, 2001

Erika Colness Bishop ’88, journalism, wrote e-mail missives to friends and family and her husband, Shane Bishop ’86, journalism, a producer for NBC’s Dateline, from her home in Glen Ridge, New Jersey, where she waited to hear if friends had survived the attacks.

“At our prayer service last night our reverend asked anyone who wanted to stand and say out loud the names of people who needed our prayers. ... The church was packed and everyone was shy at first, but after the first person stood a flood of emotion and a torrent of names filled the church. Some asked for prayers of just one lost friend. ... Others had lists of twenty or more names. One woman stood and could barely speak. Her friends translated for her and through her anguish it was revealed that she survived the attack but almost everyone she worked with did not. She asked for prayers for over one hundred people. Almost fifty people were lost from our small town of 5,000. One family with three small children lost both their mommy and their daddy. Our nanny brought a photo printout of a man who called his wife to say goodbye from the 98th floor of the towers. His children will not believe that he is lost. They are asking Shane to broadcast their father’s face in the hopes that he is somewhere safe. By week’s end they too will know that he is safe, but not here on earth. Another family I told you about faced a more serious and hideous reality. Jennifer was told her husband had survived and was in a hospital somewhere in critical condition. ... He wasn’t; it was a hoax.”

October 9, 2001

Capt. Tom Zeigler, a sixteen-year veteran of the Missoula Rural Fire District, traveled to New York and spent twelve days helping in the search and recovery effort.

“I have eleven friends there missing. That’s why I went. I train with the hazardous materials — HazMat-1 — team every year in New York. I’m one of the training officers for our haz-mat team. I was very anxious to get over there when I heard what had happened. I was looking for my best friend. Thank God he survived it. He and his partner were at the base of Tower Two when it started to collapse and they dove through a window and hid behind a pillar and that’s what protected them. I went to help him and be with him. He’s the liaison with the FEMA task force, and I helped him set up caches and supplies for the rescue workers. I didn’t go on the pile until the eighth day I was there and it’s a sight that I’ll never forget. I couldn’t handle it. After a half day, I said I don’t want to be picking up pieces of my friends like that. We were finding a hand, a foot, a torso. ... I wanted to remember them the way they were. We did recover Lt. John Crisci intact. I continued helping with the supplies. I rode a couple of shifts with HazMat-1 and they were really glad I was there. Of the whole crew, there’s only seven of them left. Last night I checked in and they had found three more friends. Four have been recovered out of eleven. It’s hard to explain unless you’ve been there and seen it. You walk in and it’s like a 3-D movie set. You just can’t believe what has happened there.”

October 12, 2001

Eli Eller, a UM sophomore, was at a friend’s house watching news reports of the attack the evening of September 11, when a phone call came from his mother. His father had been on the plane that struck the Pentagon. He got up and left without a word to drive to his family home in Helena. When asked for a statement for the Montanan, he wrote the following:

“On September 11, over 6,000 people died. How many of those people’s last thoughts were of misdeeds or unfinished business? The answer is far too many. There is a monumental lesson to be learned here. We, as humans, will die. There is no way around that painful truth. Yet every day we go on saying things like, “I’ll do it tomorrow.” We must understand that tomorrow may never come. But instead of despairing and giving up hope, instead of being completely self-oriented, live today to the fullest. Bask in the joy and the wonder around you. Don’t hold grudges, don’t be angry. You are wasting your time. Be true to all that you see. Hug a friend, pet a dog, laugh at even the stupid jokes. Love everyone and everything around you and do not be afraid. If today is to be your last day, then you can go happily knowing you have no regrets, no unfinished business. ... These are just words. Nothing I can say or do will make you realize how important it is to love. It is your choice to either spend your time being angry and screaming about various injustices or to live in harmony with those around you. Just remember, everything ends. NO REGRETS.”