Yesterday, the 11th of September, I celebrated my sister’s birthday.
She’s my every gleam of hope in the wreaking turbulence I call my life. A constant reminder that no matter how hard it gets, there’s always love and light somewhere very close. Beautiful, bold, and becoming, she’s a dashing light, a constant reminder that life is filled with beautiful things amidst all the daily horrors.
I won’t bore you with her magnificence, not tonight. Rather, I want to remember a historical event that happened a year before she was born — the bombing of the World Trade Center Twin Towers.
20 years ago, around 9 am Eastern Time, somewhere in Manhattan, New York, two passenger planes hijacked mid-air by al-Qaeda terrorists crashed into the world’s tallest buildings (simultaneously).
The North World Trade Center and the South World Trade Center had 110 storeys each, and every inch of the space was bubbling with activities during the period that the tragedy struck.
Four planes were actually hijacked on this fateful day. The third one hit the US military headquarters in Washington DC. And the fourth one was headed for the Capitol, but the passengers on the plane, mustering unexpected courage, successfully overpowered the hijackers and crash-landed the plane somewhere in Pennsylvania.
The first plane crashed into the North World Trade Center from the 93rd floor in an upward direction and exited from the 99th floor.
The second plane plunged into the Second World Trade Center from the 85th floor to the 77th floor.
The top and bottom of each building were separated in minutes, with only thick clouds of dust, shattering glasses, and crumbling steel in the space between.
Did you know?
The police, firefighters, and other rescue teams were able to help over 25,000 people escape that morning, Yet, over 2600 deaths were recorded — including people who died on the scene and those who died later.
The occupants of the top part of the buildings were entrapped in steel tubes, suspended in thin air, counting the time till gravity plummeted them into an early grave.
Death was inevitable. They would slam into the lower part of the building, firmly rooted to the ground.
When they called 911, they were told to stay close to the nearest doors so that it would be easy to get them out when the rescue team arrived. This strategy, known as the defend-in-place strategy, is one of the three ways victims are rescued in an emergency incident.
The crash had already caused a mushroom of smoke above the building, and it was raining debris below. It would have taken a miracle to evacuate people from the top part of the building, but everyone had hope — it was all they could afford.
The truth was that no one could be rescued, and there were no exit doors. Their part building was inaccessible as it was already cut off from the bottom. The only possible way of rescuing anyone was to land helicopters at the top of the building, but the exit door to the helipad was also locked, so they were entrapped. Again, if anyone was saved that day, it would have been some divine intervention, but that didn’t happen.
Now, those trapped in the top part of the building knew they were going to die. Amidst the consuming heat, they could feel the cold hands of death quickly enveloping them. They had to embrace their fate or run from it.
If it was you, what would you do?
Some of the thousands of people who met their demise decided they would not let their situation decide their impending doom. These people chose to jump out of the building and fall to their end.
They decided not to die in a crash from falling objects, asphyxiation, or a thousand and one other tragic ending that could have befallen them if they had remained in the building.
Robert Drews, a photographer with Associated Press who was on assignment around the area, captured the picture of one of these people before he volunteered to rescue people from the scene. The picture was named the Falling Man and went viral in the days following.
At first look, the image looks bare and calm. You might probably think of a superhero or someone doing an acrobatic stunt — nothing else.
But you would notice the disquiet if you gave it a second look (and maybe a second thought).
Falling from a building of about 417 metres, factoring acceleration due to gravity and the rough estimate of his weight, he was moving at a speed of about 200mph. If you drive a car, you’d know how fast this is.
For lack of a better explanation, most cars on major roads do not drive beyond 100–120 mph, and the average speed within school premises is between 15–25 mph. Or better still, the top speed of the car below drives at 208 mph. I’m giving all these examples to show how fast this man fell.
It’s tragic. Falling at such speed with memories of the past, the reality of the present, and accurate knowledge of the future all flashing through the mind. Think about the man’s mental state. Falling from one of the tallest buildings in the world at the time, what else could have been going through his mind?
Was he ready for what was about to happen? Was he afraid? Did he have any last words? Who could he tell? Was there something he wished he would have done? Did he come to terms with the fact that he was done with life? Did he regret his decision to descend?
Shift the spotlight from him. What about his family, friends, and everyone else that knew him? How did they feel seeing this picture? What could be more painful than losing a loved one is seeing every media house in the country use his last picture as a cover story for an occurrence linked with terrorism. Grief is hard. Seeing an image like this makes it harder. But the embarrassment these people will have faced must have been unbearable — one can only imagine.
CCTV footage of the morning of that day was examined to find out who this man was. They narrowed the options to a few people, and when they contacted the family of these people, they all denied knowing him. It was almost like no one wanted to be associated with him, or at least not at that time and in that situation.
Over the years, there has been a lot of argument about whether these people committed suicide by intentionally falling to their death or were blown out of the glass by a flash fire.
Amidst all the arguments, with my utmost respect to the deceased and condolences to all the concerned parties, I do have certain reservations — and this is not to make light of the severity of the situation.
For the Falling Man and everyone else who took the same decision as him, I think that even though it was easy for them to predict their future (the certainty of death when they were up in the building), they decided how that future was going to actualize. They didn’t wait for it to come to them; they went for it.
All this babble, to what end? What am I trying to bring out?
A new week has just started. We don’t know what will happen during the week, but one thing is certain — the week will end.
How do you want your week to end?
Do you want to stay put like the people who died in the building and do nothing or take action and jump out like the Falling Man?
Whatever you choose, the week will end, and the choice(s) you make and the action(s) you take will all determine how your week will turn out.
The Falling Man, though deceased, still lives, in my opinion. He lives in me. He lives in you. He lives in every one of us.
The Falling Man represents every Nigerian youth who participated in the protest in October 2020.
The Falling Man represents everybody (male or female) who has been able to break away from an abusive relationship.
The Falling Man represents people going through depression who have decided to speak up.
The Falling Man represents people who keep trying, hoping to succeed someday.
The Falling Man represents graduates waking up in the morning, applying for jobs, and calculating how they’ll spend their salary without even getting an interview invitation.
The Falling Man represents people who don’t mind starting over after experiencing setbacks.
The Falling Man is a beacon of hope, an emblem of courage, and the sign you need to Just Do, Don’t Think!
The Falling Man represents YOU, confronting your demons, facing your fears, and overcoming your flaws.
The Falling Man is YOU who won’t allow life to decide what happens because you will grab life by its balls and make it the “balls in your court.”
But you don’t have to be the Falling Man if you don’t want to. Inaction, sometimes, is an action.
In the end, there’s really no right or wrong choice. There are only the choices you make and the ones you could have made.
See you at the end of the week, my friend.
Love & Light.
