In the National September 11 Memorial & Museum in New York City, there is a flight of concrete stairs, clad in granite, one of the exhibits. The section of stairs at the top is in good condition; the section below is cracked and pitted and partly crumbled.
At the bottom of these stairs is a man, a docent, who stands each day and tells the story of the stairs.
The staircase’s story
The staircase was the last remaining, above-ground structure after the fall of the towers. It led from Building 5 of the World Trade Center complex to an underground escape route which, on 9/11, provided safe passage for hundreds of people. An overhang protected the top half of the staircase; the bottom half eventually fell victim to the hail of steel, glass and concrete from above.
These two flights are known as the Survivors’ Staircase.
The staircase remained standing amidst the wreckage for years, under threat of demolition to make way for the redevelopment of the site, and it was only agitation by the World Trade Center Survivors' Network that saved the staircase from destruction, and led to the transportation of its 65 remaining tons to its current location in the museum.
The Survivors’ Staircase sitting alone in the WTC redevelopment site.
The Docent's Story
When visitors to the museum descend a staircase that runs parallel to the Survivors’ Staircase, the docent at the bottom greets them and shares the story of the stairs with any who care to listen.
The docent is a man in his late sixties. His name is Michael.
The day I visited, after Michael finished speaking and people started to move off, I asked him, “Do you mind if I ask where you were on that day?”
Those moving away paused.
“I was on the 82nd floor of the South Tower, Tower 2.”
All of us gasped. I could feel tears sting my eyes.
This is Michael’s 9/11 story:
When the first plane hit the North Tower, Tower 1, everyone on the high floors of the South Tower left their offices and headed down to the 44th floor, the Skylobby, where those from lower floors had already begun to congregate. Michael didn’t know what he should do next: continue down, remain in the lobby, head back up?
As he was trying to decide, a building marshal announced that everyone should return to their offices.
Still, Michael hesitated.
It was at that moment, as he was tossing up whether to go down or to go up, that the second plane hit Tower 2, crashing directly into his desk 38 floors above.
Michael joined the flow of people rushing down out of the building. He evacuated through the subway, emerging a couple of blocks away, and started to walk home. A passing taxi driver stopped, told him to get in, and drove him the two miles to safety. As Tower 2 collapsed, Michael watched it on the television in his sitting room.
“It was a day that could change even a heartless international banker,” he said. And then he added, “Like I was.”
Partial list of tenants in the upper floors of WTC 2. Floors marked in red indicate where UA Flight 175 impacted.
Stories Above and Below Ground
All museums have something in common: they tell stories.
Sometimes, though, the stories that affect us most must be unlocked before they emerge, such as my question to Michael; or Sister Helen’s decision to write of what she witnessed in Louisiana’s execution chamber.
That impetus led to a life changing decision for Sr. Helen, and the sparking of a national conversation about a civil rights issue long ignored.
The Survivors Staircase in the National September 11 Memorial & Museum. This image is from Google Street View.