It was shortly after 9 p.m. Manila time (but morning same time in New York) and I knew that Raoul should be in a crowded elevator to the sixth floor of the imposing Empire State Building in Manhattan where The Reporter holds office. Raoul stays in nearby Jersey City and, on weekdays, he’s usually up at a little past 7 a.m. After a quick cup of apple-flavored Nest-Vita ("imported" from the Philippines), he checks the double-locks of his bachelor’s pad and off he rushes to the path train to Manhattan at around 8:30 five blocks away. By 9 o’clock, he’s at his desk at The Reporter.
I got home somewhat groggy from doing three advance columns and one Conversation in anticipation of a four-day trip to Sydney (from yesterday up to Saturday) to cover the launch of Britney Spears’ new album (you guessed it, I backed out of the press junket because, well, you never can tell where the terrorists will attack next, can you?). I direct-dialled Raoul’s Jersey City number. Busy signal. I tried again and again. Still busy. I tried his Manhattan number Same busy signal. After 30 minutes of trying and trying, I gave up.
As more and more footages of the WTC crumbling like a sandbox to the ground (how my heart sank watching that scene, later played over and over again not only by CNN but also by other news channels like Fox News, BBC and CNBC), with additional shots of the Pentagon on fire, with a gigantic hole on top of one wing, I worried to death about my friend Raoul’s fate.
I shuddered to think of the possibilities: Did he slip during a mad dash for safety, trumpled upon by panicking New Yorkers? Was he trapped inside the Empire State elevator? What could have happened to him.
Yesterday morning as soon as I woke up late (from watching the terrifying accounts on CNN), I again dialled Raoul’s Jersey number. His brother Monching, visiting from Toronto, answered the phone and said that Raoul wasn’t home yet but he’s safe in Manhattan with some friends. I left my celfone number and an hour later, Raoul was on the line, recalling real-life incidents far more horrible and more scary than those in disaster movies (Towering Inferno, Escape From New York, Planet of the Apes, etc.).
"It was pure chaos," related Raoul a bit breathlessly. "I’ll never forget that scene until my dying day. It’s more scary and more frightening than any work of fiction I’ve read in novels or seen in movies."
Raoul was still on the path train when the two planes hit the WTC and he said he didn’t realize the extent of the bombing until he arrived at the Empire State Building at around 10 a.m., 40 blocks away from the WTC that used to sprawl on a six-hectare lot facing the Liberty Island (where the Statue of Liberty stands tall).
He was about to enter the building when the guard stopped him. "There’s nobody here," the guard barked at him, "the building is being evacuated." Transfixed on where he was standing, Raoul was knocked back to his senses when the guard told him, "The Empire State Building is also the target of the terrorists, so better go."
"It was as if hell had broken loose," recalled Raoul of the scene outside as he rushed out of the building. "There was chaos and confusion, with people running here and there, not knowing where to go, many of them bumping into each other. Where I was going, debris was raining on pedestrians. No vehicles were running, only people looking scared, some screaming, some muted, some with blank faces."
Is Armageddon at hand? Is Nostradamus’ prophecy coming true? Has the Third World War broken out? My God, my God, where’s the world headed to? Is the Second Coming upon us? Is this the rapture we’ve read so much about in The Bible, sending chills down our spines?
Those were the horrible questions running on Raoul’s mind as he ran for dear life away, away, away from the scene of what could be the worst terrorist attack in history.
"Along the way," added Raoul, "I saw bodies on the streets. People were milling around, not knowing what to do. I heard many of them saying, ‘This is America! This is supposed to be the safest place on the planet. What’s happening!?!’ Somebody tapped my shoulder and I could gave him only a puzzled stare. I didn’t have the answers to the questions."
Raoul didn’t know how he got to the house of his friend Aida Adawag, a beautician from Tarlac (who used to do President Cory Aquino’s hair when she wasn’t President yet), several blocks away from the Empire State Building but, curiously enough, only a few blocks away from the WTC.
"I felt sad when I looked out of the window," sighed Raoul. "The twin WTC towers were gone. All of a sudden, I missed those two landmarks that I had taken for granted because I was seeing them day in and day out these past two decades. Without them, I realized that New York was not the same, that it would never be the same again."
On Aida’s large TV set, scenes of people hiking home, for lack of transportation (suspended because bridges and tunnels were closed), were shown from a top view that brought to mind the famous New York Marathon or Bataan’s Death March.
A block away was the Beth Israel Hospital which was packed full with the wounded and the dying, with doctors and nurses, along with volunteers, hardly able to cope with the new arrivals, all bloody and battered, meeting them with stretchers right at the hospital door to give them first-aid and/or emergency treatment.
"Beirut must feel this way after a bomb attack," said Raoul.
So for 12 hours, Raoul stayed at Aida’s place which soon became the scene of an instant reunion among Filipinos seeking refuge from the unfolding "Apocalypse" in Manhattan.
"That’s when I saw the resilience of Pinoys," Raoul added, this time with a lighter tone. "Aida ordered food and everybody had fun. Parang fiesta. We gorged on Filipino food while watching the grim account on television, until it was time for each of us to go back home at around midnight when transportation was restored."
I stayed with Raoul at his Jersey City pad when I went to New York last May so I know that the first thing he does as soon as he wakes up in the morning, something which I also learned to do, is draw the curtain of his bedroom window and watch the twin World Trade Center towers in full erected glory in the hazy New York skyscape.
"Watching those two towers gives me a sense of pride and a sense of peace," said Raoul with a sad note in his voice. "I don’t know why."
Yesterday morning when he woke up, Raoul, I’m sure, drew open his bedroom curtain and he must have cried in silence.
The twin towers were gone.