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First hand account from a Muslim in the WTC  By Usman Farman, 16 Sep 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. 

Iíll 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 DONATE TO HELP THOSE IN NEED

Source: themodernreligion.com

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