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| First Hand Account From A
Muslim in the WTC Usman Farman 16 September 2001 My name is Usman Farman and I graduated from Bentley with a Finance degree last May. I am 21 years old, turning 22 in October; I am Pakistani, and I am Muslim. Until September 10th 2001, I used to work at the World Trade Center in building #7. I had friends and acquaintances who worked in tower #1 right across from me. Some made it out, and some are still unaccounted for. I survived this horrible event. I'd like to share with you what I went through that awful day, with the hopes that we can all stay strong together; through this tragedy of yet untold proportions. As I found out, regardless of who we are, and where we come from, we only have each other. I commute into the city every morning on
the train from New Jersey. Rather, I used to. I still can't believe what
is happening. That morning I woke up and crawled out of bed. I was
thinking about flaking out on the train and catching the late one, I
remember telling myself that I just had to get to work on time. I ended up
catching the 7:48 train, which put me in Hoboken at 8:20 am. When I got
there I thought about getting something to eat, I decided against it and
took the PATH train to the World Trade Center. I arrived at the World
Trade at 8:40 in the morning. I walked into the lobby of building 7 at
8:45, that's when the first plane hit. Had I taken the late train, or gotten a
bite to eat, I would have been 5 minutes late and walking over the
crosswalk. Had that happened, I would have been caught under a rain of
fire and debris, I wouldn't be here talking to you. I'd be dead. I was in the lobby, and I heard the first
explosion; it didn't register. They were doing construction outside and I
thought some scaffolding had fallen. I took the elevators up to my office
on the 27th floor. When I walked in, the whole place was empty. There were
no alarms, no sprinklers, nothing. Our offices are, or rather, were on the
south side of building seven. We were close enough to the North and South
Towers, that I could literally throw a stone from my window and hit the
North tower with it. My phone rang and I spoke with my mother
and told her that I was leaving, at that moment I saw an explosion rip out
of the second building. I called my friend in Boston, waking her up and
told her to tell everyone I'm okay, and that I was leaving. I looked down
one last time and saw the square and fountain that I eat lunch in, was
covered in smoldering debris. Apparently, I was one of the last to leave
my building, when I was on the way up in the elevators; my co-workers from
the office were in the stairwells coming down. When I evacuated, there was
no panic. People were calm and helping each other; a pregnant woman was
being carried down the stairwell. I will spare the more gruesome details of
what I saw, those are things that no one should ever have to see, and
beyond human decency to describe. Those are things which will haunt me for
the rest of my life, my heart goes out to everyone who lost their lives
that day, and those who survived with the painful reminders of what once
was. Acquaintances of mine who made it out of the towers, only got out
because 1000 people formed a human chain to find their way out of the
smoke. Everyone was a hero that day. We were evacuated to the north side of
building 7. Still only 1 block from the towers. The security people told
us to go north and not to look back. 5 city blocks later I stopped and
turned around to watch. With a thousand people staring, we saw in shock as
the first tower collapsed. No one could believe it was happening, it is
still all too surreal to imagine. The next thing I remember is that a dark
cloud of glass and debris about 50 stories high came tumbling towards us.
I turned around and ran as fast as possible. I didn't realize until
yesterday that the reason I'm still feeling so sore was that I fell down
trying to get away. What happened next is why I came here to give this
speech. I was on my back, facing this massive cloud
that was approaching, it must have been 600 feet off, everything was
already dark. I normally wear a pendant around my neck, inscribed with an
Arabic prayer for safety; similar to the cross. A Hasidic Jewish man came
up to me and held the pendant in his hand, and looked at it. He read the
Arabic out loud for a second. What he said next, I will never forget. With
a deep Brooklyn accent he said Brother, if you donut mind, there is a
cloud of glass coming at us, grab my hand, lets get the hell out of here.
He helped me stand up, and we ran for what seemed like forever without
looking back. He was the last person I would ever have thought, who would
help me. If it weren't for him, I probably would have been engulfed in
shattered glass and debris. I finally stopped about 20 blocks away, and
looked in horror as tower #2 came crashing down. Fear came over me as I
realized that some people were evacuated to the streets below the towers.
Like I said before, no one could have thought those buildings could
collapse. We turned around and in shock and disbelief and began the trek
to midtown. It took me 3 hours to get to my sisters office at 3 avenue and
47th street. Some streets were completely deserted, completely quiet, no
cars, no nothing just the distant wail of sirens. I managed to call home
and say I was okay, and get in touch with co-workers and friends whom I
feared were lost. We managed to get a ride to New Jersey.
Looking back as I crossed the George Washington Bridge, I could not see
the towers. It had really happened. As the world continues to reel from this
tragedy, people in the streets are lashing out. Not far from my home, a
Pakistani woman was run over on purpose as she was crossing the parking
lot to put groceries in her car. Her only fault? That she had her head
covered and was wearing the traditional clothing of my homeland. I am
afraid for my family's well being within our community. My older sister is
too scared to take the subway into work now. My 8-year-old sister's school
is under lockdown and armed watch by police. Violence only begets violence, and by
lashing out at each other in fear and hatred, we will become no better
than the faceless cowards who committed this atrocity. If it weren't for
that man who helped me get up, I would most likely be in the hospital
right now, if not dead. Help came from the least expected place, and goes
only to show, that we are all in this together regardless of race,
religion, or ethnicity. Those are principles that this country was founded
on. Please take a moment to look at the people
sitting around you. Friends or strangers, in a time of crisis, you would
want the nearest person to help you if you needed it. My help came from a
man who I would never have thought would normally even speak to me. Ask
yourselves now how you can help those people in New York and Washington.
You can donate blood, you can send clothing, food, and money. Funds have
been setup in the New York area to help the families of fallen
firefighters, policemen, and emergency personnel. The one thing that won't
help, is if we fight amongst ourselves, because it is then that we are
doing exactly what they want us to do, and I know that nobody here wants
to do that. My name is Usman Farman and I graduated
from Bentley with a Finance degree last May. I am 21 years old, turning 22
in October; I am Pakistani, and I am Muslim, and I too have been
victimized by this awful tragedy. The next time you feel angry about this,
and perhaps want to retaliate in your own way, please remember these
words: "Brother, if you don't mind, there is a cloud of glass coming
at us, grab my hand, lets get the hell out of here." LET'S JOIN TOGETHER AS A COMMUNITY AND
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