...or other deep thought is intended by the following post.

A stonemason I admire was working on the cleaning of the old Pan Am building
(Emery Roth, Walter Gropius & Pietro Belluschi, 1963; now MetLife, at 46th &
Park Avenue) sent me the following account of Tuesday morning, September
11th, but asked me to withhold his name.  I have preserved most of his
peculiar spelling and informal language.

    --Best, Christopher Gray

"The morning sky was a brilliant azure with whiffs of high sirrus clouds sun
sparkled the deco chrome eagles of the Chrysler as tourists gathered at the
Empire and Trade center observation decks.  We can see them from our eagle
aerie here at the 60 Th. deck of the old Pan Am; like ants we see the
reflection of their lens and chrome covers  The view of the Trade towers is
distant; but we have brothers there.  The steel workers are my crew. We are
friends and they do my rigging. Sometimes in mornings we make pre arranged
mirror flashes like clever boy scouts then salute each other by cell phone
over morning coffee confirming our signal success and guffaw like errant
school boys.

"Eight am yesterday morning we are hanging rigs at the 57 floor; its a busy
morning we are on the Vanderbuilt side with commanding views of lower
Manhattan. The Hudson is majestic in the September sun. The Circle line and
the tugs dart and
ply the island like it was a holiday. Office workers pour into there
buildings many with coffee in hand. Its a Tuesday its warm yet you can feel a
cool Canadian front upon us.

"Up high my foreman Tiny grins with his missing eye tooth. His rig rests over
the side of the 57th floor; appox half the distance in height of the twin
tower. We are gamming on about the weather; and and what we "gotta do"...When
Tiny (who weighs 275) breaks conversation and sez ‘Getta load of this
asshole'.

"With that all eyes focus on this incoming 757 wagging its wings coming over
the Pan Am just 200 feet from our deck. As the huge jet approached it veered
slightly to the right; the sparkle of the sun glistened its wings and the
rays warmed its fuselage
our men who hang precariously off the sides of buildings are outraged at the
total disregard for safety; stand and yell obscenity at the pilot shaking
their trowels as the jumbo careens over Broadway just broadside of us. [to
the west of the building - CG]

"The sun is very bright just now we can see the white shirt of the pilot(?)
and in the direct sun we can see the heads of passengers at their assigned
windows -- I distinctly see a blond woman at her seat.

"This is unbelievable - perhaps another low level tourist ride;
perhaps he came low to avoid another aircraft; perhaps ... perhaps .... as we
watch the plane pass the Empire State Building and then  diminish in size
until ...until.....poof, a large ball of flame emerges from the twin
tower....all at once everyone is screaming.

"We are slack jawed in disbelief; all at once everyone is screaming...radios
crackle ..."IT hit the Trade Tower...Tower Hit...a plane just hit Trade
center!!! We are slack jawed in disbelief; there is a deafing silence as we
glance at
each other in momentary stillness; radio calls are coming in from below
asking for information..we watch the burning and tug at cigarettes and hang
nails.... minutes pass and we observe what appeared to us an observer plane
coming in  for a ‘look
see'.  But suddenly it too plows into the other tower ... explosion ... fire
ball ... no mistake this time ... that's deliberate ... all of a sudden it
becomes apparent that we are a potential target ... everyone starts yelling
... ‘get down ..get down' like submarines under depth charge attack, huge
hanging rigs and their crews drop down the sides of the building in fits  and
starts ... cussing and yelling  as they push off the building face and scale
down in record time."