The Special Report

Lankan survivor recalls horror at WTC

By Srinath Jinadasa

I first boarded the NJ transit train, and at Newark, NJ changed trains, as usual, and boarded the PATH train that took me directly to the World Trade Center. My office was located on the 74th floor in WTC 1 building with a beautiful view overlooking the Hudson River. I arrived in my office around 8:30a.m. and just settled in to begin my work when I heard and felt a huge explosion in the building. 

The building swayed wildly, about twenty feet back and forth. Black smoke was coming out of the floors above mine, but I was oblivious to what had caused this. It could have been a bomb, a transformer explosion, or any- thing else. I called my wife, Ganga, who works in Middletown, NJ and informed her of the explosion and she called back a little later to inform that it was a plane that crashed into the building. 

Although I received calls from a few friends asking me to quickly get out of the building I did not have a compelling urge to rush out. Never did it occur to me that the building could collapse. For now, I thought staying in my office would be a better alternative to trying to go down the narrow emergency stairs along with a stampede of many other panicking people. 

Shortly after 9 a.m., I heard someone yelling that another plane crashed in- to the World Trade Center tower 2 and that the tower was on fire. I went over to the other side where I could see WTC 2, looked out and saw plumes of black smoke coming out of that building. At this point, my colleagues and I decided to leave the office and walk down the stairs to get out of the building. 

By now everyone else had left the floor except the four of us who waited to avoid the early stampede in the stairwell. My colleague, John, now my "soul mate" even took time to water the plants in the office. He did this because of his prior experience, where, upon returning to the office after the 1993 WTC bombing he found the plants

nearly dead! While he was taking care of the plants, I equipped myself with a couple of flashlights, wet paper towels, and a jacket. I even tried to log on to the 1010wins web site a few times to get news of the explosion but did not succeed. Finally, my colleagues and I made our way to the emergency exit stairs. When the four of us climbed down, the stairway was empty from the 74th floor to about the 35th floor. From there on, as we descended we encountered the brave firemen walking up to rescue people. 

Finally, we reached the street level from where we saw a horrific seen of death and destruction; the World Trade Center plaza was littered with dead bodies and debris. From the ground floor we were directed to the concourse level which is the first basement level. Almost as soon as we went to the concourse and proceeded towards the exit we heard a thundering rumble and a deafening crash. 

A thick cloud of dust and debris came up from behind. Lights went out. I threw myself flat on the floor by a wall. I thought that was the end. Everything was falling down around me. Soon everything was quiet and I was still alive. It was pitch dark inside and my flashlight did not help too much be- cause of the great amount of dust, but was good enough to help us see the ground we were walking on.

Our sense of direction was lost, we were questioning each other's judgment as to which way to go out, but were finally led out by the voice of a police officer who directed us to the street. We finally emerged on the street and started getting away from the World Trade Center complex. 

We were a few hundred yards away when we heard another rumble and a deafening noise and as I quickly glanced back, I saw World Trade Center tower 1 disintegrate and fall. Thick clouds of debris and dust engulfed us blocking the sunlight, for a few minutes there was darkness much like midnight. I was pulled into a small store by a police officer and there we waited for things to settle down. 

I then walked about three miles to the Pennsylvania train station on 34th street and boarded a train headed to New Jersey. When I look back I shudder at the thought of how close I was to perishing. I still cannot grasp what had happened. I am so grateful to have my life. I grieve for many thousands of lives including the lives of those brave firemen who died in the great American tragedy. 

It is so hard to believe that the once tallest building of the world and the mighty symbolic landmark of New York is no more. 

* The writer is structural engineer who works for the NY-NJ Ports Authority. An old Royalist, he was a graduate of the Peradeniya University.

Inside the glass house

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