Enron Mail

From:craig.taylor@enron.com
To:larry.may@enron.com, andy.zipper@enron.com
Subject:FW: Billy Forney Story
Cc:
Bcc:
Date:Wed, 3 Oct 2001 07:24:25 -0700 (PDT)



-----Original Message-----
From: "Craig Taylor" <craig_taylor67@hotmail.com<@ENRON [mailto:IMCEANOTES-+22Craig+20Taylor+22+20+3Ccraig+5Ftaylor67+40hotmail+2Ecom+3E+40ENRON@ENRON.com]
Sent: Tuesday, October 02, 2001 6:24 PM
To: Taylor, Craig
Subject: Fw: Billy Forney Story


<pretty amazing story!!!!!
<----- Original Message -----
<From: Matthew Newtown
<To: Andrew Clark (E-mail) ; Anne Newtown (E-mail) ; Ashley Buffa (E-mail) ;
<Ashley Morgan (E-mail) ; Bob and Sally Boyd (E-mail) ; Chris McConn
<(E-mail)
<; Chris Newtown (E-mail) ; David & Jan Bean (E-mail) ; Ed Banker (E-mail) ;
<Griff Aldrich (E-mail) ; Jeff Webb (E-mail) ; Jennifer J. Saltsman (E-mail)
<; Jo Anne Banker (E-mail) ; Joe Bailey (E-mail) ; John Lange (E-mail) ;
<John
<Weatherly (E-mail) ; Judge William Harmon (E-mail) ; Larry Barbour (E-mail)
<; Merrell Athon (E-mail) ; Mike Ayers (E-mail) ; Molly Radcliffe (E-mail 2)
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<(E-mail)
<Sent: Friday, September 28, 2001 2:48 PM
<Subject: Billy Forney Story
<
<
<This is Billy Forney's story from the World Trade Center disaster. Some of
<you might know Billy or already have read this. I coached baseball with
<Billy at Post Oak a couple of seasons ago. It is a pretty descriptive,
<awesome detail of September 11.
<
<
<
< -----Original Message-----
<From: billy@forney.com [mailto:bforneyiii@email.msn.com]
<Sent: Wednesday, September 26, 2001 11:17 PM
<Subject: My experience
<
<Here is my story...
<
<A World Trade Center Story: Tuesday, September 11, 2001
<
<
<
<8:00 am: I arrive at the World Trade Center complex. Stop off at the bank
<in the tunnels below Two World Trade Center to make a deposit at the ATM.
<
<
<
<8:15 am: I arrive at the 85th floor of One WTC, where my company, SMW
<Trading, has its offices. I begin preparing reports for another day of
<trading at the NYMEX, located in a separate building 5 minutes away from
<the
<office.
<
<
<
<8:43am: I am sitting at the table in the center of the office, my back
<facing the outside windows. Suddenly, a horrific explosion. An immediate
<change in the air pressure. A ghostly column of air shoots like a canon
<into the office. The front door slams shut. Papers are whipped into the
<air. I'm thrown off my chair and to the ground. My boss jumps out of his
<office a second prior to the explosion. He had watched, in horrific
<disbelief, the entire event as the plane narrowly missed the empire state
<building and set a direct course for our building. The explosion sends the
<tower shaking furiously, lurching back and forth with sickening vengeance
<for maybe five or ten seconds. I think we may die. The building may
<topple
<over, or crumble. Finally it stops. The building is still standing.
<Everybody stares at each other, no idea of what happened or what to say.
<Speculations about an explosion, a bomb. No, it was a plane, our boss
<says.
<A commercial jet.
<
<
<
<[Losing track of time]: I immediately walk to the door. Someone screams
<not to open the door; the hallway is on fire. Curious, Rob "Opie" Leder
<and
<I touch the door and the handle. It's cool. I open the door, slowly,
<cautiously, to see what's out there. It's pitch black out there, except
<for
<the office light, still on, shining off of the billowing smoke in the hall.
<The smell is horrible. This is no ordinary smoke. It smells of metal, jet
<fuel, of rancid concrete, of things unspeakable. I close the door. People
<are still numb, shocked, confused. Opie was the first to say it; he was
<getting the hell outta there. I'm with you man. I open the door again.
<The smoke is thinner. I see an orange glow outside the door, a fire
<smoldering around the corner. I hear guys in another office yelling for
<help or something, too scared to open their door. Nobody knows where the
<stairs are, not even them.
<
<
<
<Back into the office, to grab some stuff. The black SMW jacket I wear to
<the trading floor. It's full of pick cards, order tickets, my empty water
<bottle, Ice gum, a calculator, a pen, a halls cough drop, and trading
<analyzers. I put on my jacket. I decide to fill up my water bottle. Opie
<waits for me, ready to bolt. Almost everybody wants to leave now.
<
<
<
<Marvin Pickrum. Where is he? When did he leave? Where did he go? Is he
<in the bathroom? The bathroom! Someone check the bathroom. I walk into
<the hallway, inhaling the noxious stench, and I walk down the hall. To the
<left, another hallway, three small fires burning, debris everywhere, lights
<out. In front of me, another office, another man peering out, more
<terrified people. To the right, another hallway, the bathroom, and the
<stairwell. I open the bathroom door, everything in pristine condition.
<Like nothing happened. I call out for Marvin, no answer. He's not in the
<bathroom. We head down the stairs.
<
<
<
<We move fast. Not a lot of people in the stairs yet. At 81, Opie stops to
<help some guy break out some fire extinguishers. We each grab an
<extinguisher. We get to 72. People are coming back up the stairs. What's
<the problem? The door several platforms down is pinned shut. People come
<back upstairs from below. We walk out into the hall to find another
<stairwell. This floor had damage. Wires and debris everywhere. A wall
<blown down into the hallway. Some fires smoldering in the rubble. I cover
<my face and try not to look. Afraid of another explosion. We find another
<stairwell at the other end of the hall.
<
<
<
<In the next stairwell, there are more people. The descent gets slower. We
<try to use Opie's cell phone. It was impossible to get a connection; an
<occasional faint ring, then everything goes dead. The display read
<"service
<unavailable at this time." What, try again later?
<
<
<
<At about 65, still trying to use the cell phone. Service still down. We
<stop on a large platform. I notice a woman rocking back and forth directly
<behind me. She was barefoot, holding her shoes. She asks me for a swig of
<water, and uses it to wet her shirt and cover her mouth against the
<sickening stench. She anxiously, nervously tells me that she has two
<children, and she has to get downstairs. We start moving again. She picks
<her way down quickly, passing people where she can. She makes good
<progress. She's polite. She's frantic.
<
<
<
<At 60, cell phones still not working. I toss the investor's business daily
<I've been carrying with me. Not exactly important stuff at the moment. I
<think to myself that I'm trashing the building, and I feel bad.
<
<
<
<At 50, cell phone service still out. A man with blood covering half of his
<face and a bandage on his head walking down the stairs. Others pass with
<him, obviously in pain. People move to the right and let them pass.
<Everybody is calm, orderly, supportive. Nobody takes advantage of the path
<they clear. Such calm, such unselfishness in the face of tragedy. Quiet
<adrenalin. Rumors of a second plane. People are making jokes to ease the
<strain.
<
<
<
<We carry the fire extinguishers all the way down to the 49th floor. I'm
<sweating like crazy, shirt untucked, unbuttoned, I'm wearing my jacket,
<still carrying the fire extinguisher.
<
<
<
<At 45, cell phones still not working. I see a firefighter heading up the
<stairs. A reassuring presence, giving words of encouragement. At 35, more
<firefighters, serious equipment in their hands, on their backs. At 30, the
<door to that floor is open, firefighters have set up base camp, they've
<dropped their stuff, tended to some injured people. They've secured all
<the
<floors below them. They're working their way up, trying to save the people
<above us. At 25, a man with a cane struggles down the stairs, another man
<is helping him down. After we pass these men, things start moving. Maybe
<he was the bottleneck. We stop less frequently now.
<
<
<
<At 20, a woman, Juliette, is struggling to get down, tired and out of
<breath. We offer water and help, she accepts. We wait a few seconds for
<her to rest. Opie takes her purse, which is heavy, and her jacket. Opie
<walks in front of her, I walk behind. We tell people to pass us on our
<left.
<
<
<
<Floor 15, then 10, and then 5. At 2, some light. Outside light. Close to
<home free. We finally exit the stairwell, into the lobby, street level,
<facing east, and facing a courtyard I don't really recognize. It must be
<in
<the middle of the World Trade Center complex. In the courtyard I recognize
<colors. Green from a small tree, gray from buildings. Blue sky,
<somewhere.
<Black, too. Black stuff on the green, and black stuff on the ground, small
<puffs of smoke. It must be debris from wreckage. What looks like a
<person's leg. I can't focus, my mind is wandering. I don't want to look.
<
<
<
<Firefighters lead us to the escalators. They don't work, there's debris on
<them that we climb over. We go down slowly. A few people complain we're
<walking too slowly. What if you needed help? I ask. That keeps them
<quiet.
<
<We get down to the lower level, to the glass doors separating One World
<Trade Center from the shops underground. The glass is all blasted out.
<Firefighters are showing us the way out, through the doors. An eerie
<situation underground. The sprinklers are on. People are worried about
<their clothes. Shops are empty, deserted. Some lights above are still on.
<Some aren't. Water collecting in puddles on the ground. Ceiling tiles
<here
<and there. A usually noisy, active underground is virtually silent.
<Firefighters are calling out to us to keep moving.
<
<We pass a sandwich shop, Banana Republic, Gap, entrance to Two World Trade
<Center. The firefighters lead us northeast, around a corner. We stop.
<Juliette wants to rest. The firefighters urge us forward. Juliette wants
<a
<swig of water. Just then, I hear a faint noise behind us, it sounds like
<water rumbling. No, it's people screaming, they're running, a mad fury, a
<tidal wave before the crescendo. What are they running from?
<
<
<
<Someone yells to start running. We start running. Part of the underground
<goes black. Like someone flicks off the switch. We take 3 or 4 steps;
<Opie
<slips and falls sideways to his left. People yell for us to get down. We
<dive to the ground. The blast is like a hurricane. I find a small corner;
<I ball up as fast as I can. I cover my head with both arms. I grimace,
<mouth open, teeth clinched. For the second time in an hour, I think I'm
<about to die. Things pelting me: shards of glass, pieces of debris. I
<wait
<for something to sever me in two, and then the chaos subsides. Much later,
<I find out the blast was 2WTC coming down.
<
<
<
<I open my eyes. I've gone blind. Pitch black. Maybe I didn't open my
<eyes. I close them tight, then open them again. Nothingness. I take a
<breath. Metal, ash, concrete. I cough, and breathe again. More ash.
<With
<each breath I take, it's more painful. I call out for Opie and Juliette,
<she answers, he doesn't. I call out again. I fear something happened to
<him. I call out again. Finally, a cough, and a faint response. They're
<both alive. A few seconds pass. Somebody steps on me. What's that down
<there? A person, dude. Oh, sorry. I gather my wits, and try to get my
<bearings after being stepped on.
<
<
<
<Then, a glimmer of light from behind. A fireman's floodlight. It's hard
<to
<see anything at all. The air is thick with dust and ash. I begin to see
<silhouettes of people, I see the man who stepped on me, that's cool man. I
<see things blown all around us. I carefully stand up. I see Opie hunched
<over on the ground. He coughs some more stuff up and spits it out. Opie
<slowly stands. The fireman starts to walk by. Others are following. I
<pull Juliette to her feet. I don't want the fireman to get away. He's not
<walking fast, but it gets dark quickly without the light. I grab for
<Opie's
<hand. The group of us develop a human chain. We follow the fireman.
<Another floodlight turns on in front of us.
<
<
<
<Without the firemen's lights, we know we would be crawling, in total, pitch
<black. It would take forever without their help. We navigate slowly in
<the
<direction we had originally intended. Bill? Opie, is that you? It's
<Jonathan, one of our firm's partners, in from Chicago, caught underground
<with us. Jonathan joins our group; he knows the underground and its shops
<well. We walk slowly, about eighty yards. We see light, its natural
<light,
<we walk towards it. It's upstairs, the street level. We see another
<escalator, we walk to it, it has more debris on it. We walk up it. We get
<to the top, doors in front of us to the right. Broken glass. Debris. A
<large rug, or mat, it's blocking the entrance, but only slightly. We'll
<have to walk over it, through the broken glass door, to the outside. We're
<almost outside. We carefully step over the rug. We're outside.
<
<
<
<Outside, it's a war zone. A monochromatic landscape, covered in dirt and
<ash. Like lint, everything meshes into one color - gray. We're in a
<movie,
<an abandoned city. Visibility is at the most 50 feet. I never once look
<up. I'm still grabbing on to Juliette. I feel like I'm pulling her too
<much. I slow down. I'm amazed at the amount of soot on the ground.
<Several inches thick. The air is full of dust and ash. Just keep walking,
<don't stop. We need to keep walking. Where's Opie? He's in front of us,
<I
<know, I just can't see him.
<
<
<
<We reach a street, I think it's a street; it's covered in ash. We keep
<walking across the street. Somebody comes running towards us, shouts out
<to
<us, look for bodies under cars. A four-inch layer of ash and dust covers
<the streets. I glance around for bodies, I don't see any. We start to
<walk
<by a church with a graveyard. We stop. I cough up the ash in my mouth and
<lungs, take a drink of water, and spit out blackness. I tell Juliette to
<take some water and do the same. Swish it around and spit it out. She
<asks
<me where her purse and jacket are. I don't know. Opie had them. Where is
<Opie? I call out for him. Now I don't know where he is. I call out for
<him again, finally I see him up ahead.
<
<
<
<We start walking again. We pass the church, we get to another street,
<there's less ash on the ground, the air is better, better visibility.
<Juliette says she needs her purse. She has no money. She doesn't know
<what
<to do. I'll give you some money, don't worry. You're alive. Be happy
<you're alive. We continue walking. We meet back up with Opie. Now about
<3
<blocks away from our exit, a man is standing in a store doorway. He opens
<the door and tells us to come in. Juliette is exhausted; she wants to stay
<there. She sits down on some stairs. Opie and I want to keep moving. We
<tell Juliette that we have to leave. We exchange numbers. Opie and I each
<give her $10 to get home. We kiss her on the forehead and wish her good
<luck.
<

<
<
<We walk about ten minutes. People have lined the sidewalks, looking at the
<building on fire. We keep walking away. Then, a horrifying gasp, people
<begin crying. We turn around to look. One World Trade Center goes down.
<Our building. We watch it go down, floor by floor by floor.
<
<
<
<Unbelievable. Let's get outta here. We turn back around and keep walking.
<We come upon three co-workers. Thank God your alive. We find pay phones,
<with lines 20 people long. We keep walking, just trying to get away - to
<call somebody, let them know we're alive. We walk about thirty minutes.
<We
<take a side street. We find a corner store. It has a pay phone. Nobody
<is
<using it. We take turns calling our wives, our parents, and our friends.
<We're okay, we're alive. We all walk home together. I walk the entire
<length of Manhattan to get home to the upper west side. On the way I see
<my
<sister, I go to friends' places, I see other new Yorkers walking home.
<Surreal.
<
<
<
<
<
<Wednesday, September 12, 2001.
<
<9:00 am. I receive a call from Opie. Everybody made it out okay. Marvin
<is alive.
<
<
<
<Monday, September 16, 2001.
<
<2:01 pm. I receive a letter from my bank. The ATM deposit went through.
<
<
<
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