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Adam Mayblum Tower Escape

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❶In retrospect, I recall seeing Harry, my head trader, doing the same several yards behind me. I must stress that we did not know that it was a plane.

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Is the harrowing tale of Adam Mayblum's escape from one of the doomed WTC towers true?
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The author repeatedly had internal conflict. He wanted to help everyone but had to think of himself and his family in the same since. I think there were a couple different climaxes. First, when the plain hit and nobody knew what happened. Second, when the building is about to collapse. The the reader is not sure who is going to make it out throughout the story. The irony is the workers, he thought they would make it out alive and sent them up further.

I thought the story was touching and sad. It had descriptive detail and I felt like I was there with Adam. I was able to visulize what he was saying. I can see the smoke and can imagine how smoky it was and see the people moving together in a line trying to get out. I saw a dvd that was going around on a military base on what supposed to have happen and it showed that bush blew that building up and made it look like the terroist did it because he knew thats what we would believe anyway, and he blew it up because it was sitting on gold.

So this story kind of stir up some feelings for me because it makes you wonder what kind of world are we living in. This is a very descriptive story. Adam, which is the main character, told the story on a first person basis. The setting was very well described, I felt as if I was actually there with him. There were a lot of images for me to focus on. He kept the story very intense.

There was also a point where he was frustrated, I guess it was kind of a conflict. He felt as if they thought he was taking his time. The climax that I felt that really stood out was when he held his son cried and fell asleep.

This story was well written from his point of view. I would be freaking out if something like that happened to where I worked. I wonder if they had drills for different conditions like: Mayblum used several literary terms in this essay.

There was a theme, and I think it was that he was concerned about his life and helping others get out. The plot was very good. I felt like I was there in the building looking down on them.

The setting puts a whole new perspective on how things change from one minute to another. I enjoyed how he described the characters point of view. He used imagery very well. I felt the climax building up all through the essay. I feel very sorry for the people who did not survive. I liked how everyone including ordinary people were heroes too. I loved how he summarized everything up in the last paragraph and democracy won.

It is amazing to me how, just like everyone else whether they live in New York or not remember one that particular day, what they were doing, and where they were. In his story he talks about how to him it is was just another day at work, he and his coworkers were checking e-mail, eating breakfast, getting set for their work day, not expecting anything to happen and then out of nowhere a plane hits just a few stories above them.

I mean they was he describes what happens, I felt as if I was in a movie; I could literally see these things happening as he explained them. Or would I have been a nervous wreck and would have needed someone like Adam Mayblum to help me along?

But I must say that the most gratifying part of his story was how the building collapsed not even 15 minutes after they were out, and how he just fell to his knees knowing that his family was safe. This story was an amazing one, it showed that heroes are not just police officers, and firefighter, but they are regular ordinary people, who in a terrible situation are brave enough to step up and help lead the ones who need to be lead. This journal entry portrays Adam Mayblum on the morning of September 11th.

From the initial crash of the plane until he is safe at home surrounded by his family. I recomend this entry to anyone who is looking to learn about what happen on September 11th, We all remember that most tradgic day , when the world witnessed a terrorists attack upon the United States and its people, sending this country into a state of disbelief, and wonder how someone could committ such a herindous act. Looking over this essay written by Mr.

Just some cuts and scrapes. Everyone was a hero yesterday. I had co-workers in another office on the 77 th floor. I tried dozens of times to get them on their cell phones or office lines.

Later I found that they were alive. One of the many miracles on a day of tragedy. On the 53 rd floor we came across a very heavyset man sitting on the stairs. I asked if he needed help or was he just resting.

I knew I would have trouble carrying him because I have a very bad back. But my friend and I offered anyway. We told him he could lean on us. I said do you want to come or do you want us to send help for you.

He chose for help. He said okay and we left. On the 44 th floor my phone rang again. It was my parents. My father said get out, there is third plane coming. I still did not understand. I was kind of angry. What did my parents think? Like I needed some other reason to get going? I know they love me, but no one inside understood what the situation really was. Starting around this floor the firemen, policemen, WTC K-9 units without the dogs, anyone with a badge, started coming up as we were heading down.

I stopped a lot of them and told them about the man on 53 and my friend on I later felt terrible about this. They headed up to find those people and met death instead. On the 33 rd floor I spoke with a man who somehow new most of the details.

He said 2 small planes hit the building. Now we all started talking about which terrorist group it was. Was it an internal organization or an external one? The overwhelming but uninformed opinion was Islamic Fanatics. Regardless, we now knew that it was not a bomb and there were potentially more planes coming. I thought the staircase was collapsing upon itself. It was 10am now and that was Tower 2 collapsing next door. We did not know that. Someone had a flashlight.

We passed it forward and left the stairwell and headed down a dark and cramped corridor to an exit. We could not see at all. I recommended that everyone place a hand on the shoulder of the person in front of them and call out if they hit an obstacle so others would know to avoid it.

We reached another stairwell and saw a female officer emerge soaking wet and covered in soot. She said we could not go that way it was blocked. Go up to 4 and use the other exit. Just as we started up she said it was ok to go down instead. There was water everywhere. I called out for hands on shoulders again and she said that was a great idea. She stayed behind instructing people to do that. I do not know what happened to her.

We emerged into an enormous room. It was light but filled with smoke. I commented to a friend that it must be under construction. Then we realized where we were. It was the second floor. The one that overlooks the lobby. We were ushered out into the courtyard, the one where the fountain used to be. My first thought was of a TV movie I saw once about nuclear winter and fallout. I could not understand where all of the debris came from. There was at least five inches of this gray pasty dusty drywall soot on the ground as well as a thickness of it in the air.

Twisted steel and wires. I heard there were bodies and body parts as well, but I did not look. It was bad enough. We hid under the remaining overhangs and moved out to the street. We were told to keep walking towards Houston Street. The odd thing is that there were very few rescue workers around.

They all must have been trapped under the debris when Tower 2 fell. We did not know that and could not understand where all of that debris came from. It was just my friend Kern and I now. We were hugging but sad. We felt certain that most of our friends ahead of us died and we knew no one behind us. We came upon a post office several blocks away.

We stopped and looked up. Our building, exactly where our office is was , was engulfed in flame and smoke. A postal worker said that Tower 2 had fallen down. I looked again and sure enough it was gone. My heart was racing. We kept trying to call our families. I could not get in touch with my wife. Finally I got through to my parents.

Relived is not the word to explain their feelings. They got through to my wife, thank G-d and let her know I was alive.

A girl on a bike offered us some water. Just as she took the cap off her bottle we heard a rumble. We looked up and our building, Tower 1 collapsed. I did not note the time but I am told it was We had been out less than 15 minutes. We were mourning our lost friends, particularly the one who stayed in the office as we were now sure that he had perished. We started walking towards Union Square. I was going to Beth Israel Medical Center to be looked at.

We stopped to hear the President speaking on the radio. It was my wife. I think I fell to my knees crying. The she told me the most incredible thing. My partner who had stayed behind called her. He was alive and well. I guess we just lost him in the commotion. We started jumping and hugging and shouting. I told my wife that my brother had arranged for a hotel in midtown.

He can be very resourceful in that way. I told her I would call her from there. My brother and I managed to get a gypsy cab to take us home to Westchester instead.

I cried on my son and held my wife until I fell asleep. As it turns out my partner, the one who I thought had stayed behind was behind us with Harry Ramos, our head trader. This is now second hand information. They came upon Victor, the heavyset man on the 53 rd floor. He could barely move. He rode it down to the sky lobby on The doors opened, it was fine. He rode it back up and got Harry and Victor. Once on 44 they made their way back into the stairwell.

Someplace around the 39 th to 36 th floors they felt the same rumble I felt on the 3 rd floor. It was 10am and Tower 2 was coming down. They had about 30 minutes to get out. Victor said he could no longer move.

They offered to have him lead on them. My partner hollered at him to sit on his butt and schooch down the steps. He said he was not capable of doing it. Harry told my partner to go ahead of them.

Harry had once had a heart attack and was worried about this mans heart. It was his nature to be this way.

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Adam Mayblum is a hero in my opinion and had a lot of courage for what he did that day. Staying focused and not panicking summary a situation like that is exactly what he did, but if it were me in his shoes Price have no idea what I would have adam.

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English Comp 1 Blog: Mayblum, The Price We Pay (Analysis) Adam Mayblum is a hero in my opinion and had a lot of courage for what he did that day. Staying focused and not panicking in a situation like that is exactly what he did, but if it were me in his shoes I have no idea what I would have done.

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Your assignment is as follows: Read Adam Mayblum's "The Price We Pay" on pages in your course text and provide a thorough, word minimum response to the essay. Consider focusing on the applicability of the literary terms we've discussed in class while composing your response. Adam Mayblum's, "The Price We Pay" The concept is only strengthened by our pulling together as a team. If you want to kill us, leave us alone because we .

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Adam Mayblum's, "The Price We Pay" This story stanford creative writing faculty the reader a first hand account of what it was like to be in Tower 1 when pay plane crashed into it and what mayblum was like after the crash. The Price We Pay, by Adam Mayblum is a very informal piece of work. It is of an email that he wrote describing the events that took place, as he, his coworkers, and people from other businesses, attempted to get out of the World .