detwiller

THE WAY IT WENT DOWN: THE DANCING MAN

Added 2022-05-14 17:35:53 +0000 UTC

OK, so I was in uh, Cortlandt. Uh. 1 Path. The station, uh, below the mall when he showed up, the guy. Yeah, that was the morning of...what? Oh. Lucuis Greenblatt. Yes sir. Hello. My name is Lucuis Greenblatt. I was director, um. Director of station custodial services for Path WTC. Also the mall. Good job. Good gig. Yup.

What? Oh yes sir. 5 am until 2 pm, every day. Um. Oh. 9 years. I was in that job for 9 years. Long time. Yeah.

So he comes in on the first train, the guy. And it was weird because the train was empty, and it was usually packed. Yes. Always. Packed.

And anyway, I'm walking the platform like I always do when it rolls in. Bing-bong. Doors open, and this...guy...comes out. A little dude. Pretty. Like a model. Dressed real nice. Fancy shoes.

What? Well yes sir, he did seem like some sort of middle eastern sort of guy. He sees me, and he comes up to me all smiles and he leans in and he says: "Today's the day."

What? No. No accent. Well. No, like a British accent. A fancy accent. But no Arab accent. And he clapped me on the back with both hands as he went by and laughed as the train left. When he reached the stairs he turned back to me with his arms up and shouted "LUCUIS! WATCH YOUR ASS TODAY!"

And you know what? I guess I did. I guess I did that. I left right after the first one. I just went home. I-

What? No sir I had never seen that guy before in my life. No sir, I don't have no idea how he knew my name. So anyways...

...I was in north tower when the guy showed up. I mean, I worked in north tower. Uh. I don't know what time it was. Early. Everyone was still figuring out what the fuck was going on. No one knew what the fuck was going on. Excuse me. What the...hell...was going on. Sorry. We were on a high floor, and no one was certain what to do. We were waiting for word from corporate. Uh. 71st and Park.

Yeah, the phones were still working.

So, in the middle of this shit...sorry...crap morning, his guy blows in and goes, "Are you Maxwell Derrol? I have a 10:25?" and I'm like, "is this guy for real?" I mean, we're all at the windows watching the smoke and arguing about what to do.

And I'm on autopilot. And I'm like, ok, yeah, I'm Derrol. And then I'm shaking hands with this little guy, and he's smiling and somehow, despite the alarm and the announcements and the smoke outside, I'm smiling. And then, like some movie cut, we're in my office, and it's like there's nothing going on out of the ordinary, somehow.

I don't know why. No. I don't.

And out my window is the south tower — everyone always commented on my view, how it framed the other tower — and the guy sits so he can face it. Smoke is blowing into my window, and it drifts and moves and spreads so sometimes you can see blue sky, and sometimes you can see where the plane smashed into it. The big...the hole. But somehow, that wasn't too important.

No, I don't know why. It still doesn't make any sense.

So I go "how can Grant and Pownell help you today mister..."

And he looks at me and smiles and puts a finger to hip lips like shhhhhh. What? I don't know. He reminded me of someone from Saudi Arabia. One of the rich kids schooled in England. We had a lot of clients like that. Sounded like it too. So, he says nothing, and I look at him a long while before saying it again.

And then he folds his hand out like magic trick. He folds his hand out like he's presenting the window. And then the rumbling starts. More smoke. We both stand and watch the top of south tower slide down and sideways, while the office shakes and rumbles. We wobble all over the room and the building groans...

"Tah-dah!" he says. When the tower is gone from the window, he leaves.

No sir, I never saw him again.

I have no fucking...sorry...any...idea. None.

...coming down the north staircase. I don't know the floor. North tower. We were on 81. There was a freakin' line up of people, all moving down in a chain. Smoke. Fire alarms. Some firemen. We were going as fast as we could. The other tower had come down. You could feel it. And, if you were near the windows, there was just smoke. A plume. No tower.

And I heard him before I saw him. The little guy.

"Excuse me. Pardon me. Excuse me."

And I see him. A little man in a suit, with dark rings of sweat under his arms and around his neck. His hair is plastered to his head and his face is covered in water.

And suddenly, he's next to me. He smells like cologne and sweat, but he's all teeth and he smiles at me and he says: "Liv. Darling. How many more floors?" No sir. I did not know him. I had never seen him before in my life. No sir, my name is Olivia. Only my friends call me Liv.

And I guess I told him what floor we were on, because he said, "There's a dear." and then began taking the steps two at a time while the people cleared the way.

What? I don't know. Middle eastern maybe? English? He was handsome, but he was a mess.

And the line of people that got out of his way all stopped to watch him pass. And they turned their heads up and looked up at him going.

What? No. He didn't say anything else, but I could hear him laughing as he ran up the stairs...

--Helicopter NYPD NY D-99 Report 10:27 AM, 9-11-01.

BASE: Report go.

NY D-99: We have a uh...visual. We have visual on North Tower roof. We have people on North Tower roof.

BASE: Can you affect a rescue...can-

NY D-99: Negative. Negative. Too much smoke. But. Swing around. Swing around.

BASE: Report. What is your status.

NY D-99: Hold base. No. Swing in. I need to see-

BASE: Advise on position.

NY D-99: We have a visual, base. We have a visual. He's...