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> 2002
> September/October
Escape from Tower Two
On September 11, when the plane exploded below his office, all he could do was pray.
interview by Ginger Kolbaba
 1 of 3
The clock had just passed 9:00 on the morning of September 11 when the phone rang in Stanley Praimnath's office in the South Tower of the World Trade Center. About 15 minutes earlier, Praimnath, an assistant vice president for Fuji Bank, had taken the express elevator down to the lobby after hearing of "an incident" at the North Tower. But when he got there, security guards assured him that everything was okay and advised him to return to his office.
Back on the eighty-first floor, the offices were still mostly empty. He picked up his ringing phone. "Are you watching the news?" asked a woman in Fuji Bank's Chicago office. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," Praimnath said, wondering why she had called.
Just then, he turned to gaze out the window toward the Statue of Liberty, like he had done so many times before. But this time, the breathtaking view was disrupted by the surreal sight of a low-flying commercial jet. And it was headed straight for the tower!
Screaming, Praimnath dropped the phone in mid-sentence and dove to the floor. Curling under his desk in a fetal position, he began talking to God.
"Lord, help me!" He continued to pray desperately, as a hard whine filled the air; it sounded like a steel cage being ripped to shreds.
Praimnath had no idea that the earlier "incident" had been another jetliner smashing into the North Tower. When United Airlines Flight 175 crashed into his building, all he knew was that this might be his final day.
'Come toward the light'
At first Praimnath didn't even know the plane had exploded or that the building was on fire. Looking outside, he saw a blue flame dancing on one wing and thought it might ignite the building. "Had I known the truth, I probably would have panicked more," he says now.
Although those initial moments remain a blur, when he finally stood up, the office looked like a war zone. Equipment lay scattered about like matchsticks. Rubble covered the floor. Dust filled the air, as if someone had ripped open bags of cement and tossed them skyward.
Clawing across mounds of debris, everything he climbed on collapsed. Soon cuts and bruises covered his body. His white shirt had disappeared.
"Lord, I have to go home to my family," he wheezed. "I have to see my daughters."
Just then he saw a light poking through the darkness. Amazed that someone had appeared on his floor with a flashlight, he thought, This is my guardian angel! The Lord sent somebody to help me!
"I see the light! I see the light!" he screamed.
"Come toward the light," said an unseen voice. "I'm here to help you."
But as Praimnath pushed on, another wall tumbled down. Shielding his face with his right hand, he winced when a nail embedded itself in his palm. When he told his rescuer what had happened, the man urged, "Bite it out. Suck the blood. Spit it out."
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