Tom Willoughby’s article was published in the London maritime law periodical “The Advocate.”
The first that Hill Rivkins & Hayden knew of the events of Tuesday September 11, 2001, was the debris flying across its offices on the ninth and 10th floors of 90 West Street. This was to be followed by bodies being hurled, from the ill-fated airliner and One World Trade Center, over its building onto the Marriott World Financial Hotel nearby.
At 0848 that morning, most of Hill Rivkins’ staff had already arrived at work. A quick call to the building management confirmed the worst, and personnel were mustered to the tenth floor to be evacuated down the south firewell. The building staff at 90 West performed their duties quickly and flawlessly, even refusing an offer by member of hill Rivkins’ staff to help assist in the evacuation of the building and the rescue of two individuals trapped in the elevator, who, sadly, were later killed.
Hill Rivkins’ evacuated its staff moments after the second air strike, which was clearly visible from its offices, the outline of the plane itself being silhouetted briefly on the south facade of the tower. The 90 West building staff continued their extraordinary efforts even after the collapse of both towers, the second of which fell onto 90 West, gouging out a line of offices from the eleventh to the eighth floor and filling the lobby with fire. So fierce was the inferno, the remaining members of staff were forced to flee through a fourth floor window via scaffolding that was, thankfully, still in place.
So close was 90 West to the epicentre of the tragedy, to look at the top of Two World Trade Centre you had to open the window and physically lean out. The structural survival of 90 West, despite the fire, was the subject of a number of lengthy articles in The New York Times. One article compared 90 West favourably with Seven World Trade Centre which, despite being located further away from Ground Zero, was totally destroyed and eventually collapsed. 90 West was also compared to its modern neighbour, The Deutsch Bank, which, despite being spared fire, had an enormous crater in its north face.
Once evacuated, Hill Rivkins’ staff were kindly given a port of refuge at Healy & Baillie at 29 Broadway, where the collapsed towers were clearly visible on what was otherwise a clear sunny day. The air-conditioning vents at Healy’s were secured, and window frames stuffed, to keep out as much of the smoke an concrete dust as possible.
Of course, the immediate concern of both firms was the safety of their staff. Many had to walk several miles to get transportation home, groping through the near-midnight conditions on lower Broadway with wet hadnkerchiefs covering their faces.
In the days that followed, Hill Rivkins was able to get a partner, who was present in the office on the day of the tragedy, down to the site to survey the damage. His current US Armed Forces identification card enabled him to pass south from Canal Street through the numerous checkpoints manned by NYC Police and National Guardsman. Using mobile phones, he was immediately able to send reports back to Hill Rivkins. Over the following months, he became known as ‘our man in Havana’.
The police officers were particularly happy to have someone around who knew the neighbourhood because, before maps became available, he was able to direct the guard units to where they needed to go. City building inspectors also consulted him about the structures in the area as the diagrams they were given were occasionally wrong or out-of-date.
An inspection of Hill Rivkin & Hayden’s offices confirmed the firm’s worst fears. Following a 36-hour fire, seventy per cent of the building’s structure had been incinerated, including virtually everything accumulated by the firm over its seventy-year history. Fire marshals estimate that temperatures in the building approached 2000º F.
Locksmiths brought in from Pennsylvania were able to drill the firm’s vault open over a five-hour period and retrieve the contents, all apparently intact, including computer backup. Unfortunately, subsequent forensic engineering could not reconstruct the computer tapes.
However, despite almost total destruction, numerous visits by the firm’s personnel unearthed, from under the ashes, all the firm’s file ledgers containing vital information for every file in the company’s possession, including those received as late as September 10. Other than these items, a charred piece of marble from the firm’s reception desk was retrieved by ‘our man’ as a souvenir, along with his antique brass smoking stand, now melted down to its base. In fact, ‘our man’, along with many others, became a familiar figure in and around Ground Zero. Wearing a hard hat, boiler suit, boots, gloves, and facemask, he blended in so well with the firemen and construction men that a passing FDNY chaplain stopped and thanked him for being there.
However, amongst the devastation, there was also humour. One example was a box of donated tee-shirts left on West Street. Firemen would go up to the box, pull out a desperately needed clean replacement shirt only to throw it back in the box again. It was only on closer inspection of the tee-shirts that this mysterious reaction was explained — the logo read “GORE / LIEBERMANN IN 2000”.
The file ledgers enabled the firm to resume operation almost seamlessly within two days of the casualty, along with the help and generosity of Kirlin Campbell and Keating, who provided a temporary home to the Hill Rivkins core group over the next five months. Kirlin’s kindness, and that of Hill Rivkins’ clients and attorneys who provided duplicate files, enabled the firm to resurrect itself in a remarkably short time. The material assistance of unknown companies and individuals who donated computer equipment and other items also contributed to the firm’s rapid redeployment.
Within five days of the attack, Hill Rivkins had divided its attorneys into teams to begin searching for new permanent offices and to buy the necessary telephone, computer systems and on-line services. At no time did the firm consider relocating anywhere other than downtown Manhattan. Over twenty possible sites were looked at and a plethora of new suppliers interviewed and selected in a short space of time. In fact, within three months of the tragedy, Hill Rivkins & Hayden had entered into a lease and contracted all the services it needed to be fully back up and running. With over 20,000 telephone systems lost in the attacks, the only real delay was the telephone company being able to provide new lines.
Hill Rivkins is now permanently relocated on the fifteenth and sixth floors of 45 Broadway. It has been joined by several of Kirlin’s attorneys following the firm’s dissolution on December 31, 2001. The most important observation that came out of the events of September 11 is that the firm did not merely survive that day, but emerged as a strengthened force in the field, due primarily to the character and professionalism of its people in simply solving the problem.
9/11 has a couple of memories for me.
We were having some repair work done on a small roof over a back porch. I was home, having “retired” from Lucent in July and not found a new job yet; Karen had left for work, driving from NJ to Brooklyn. The contractor called me out and had me climb the ladder to see that there was internal water damage, so some wooden pieces would have to be replaced, and asked me to approve a cost increase of between $100 and $300, which I did. An hour or so later, he rang the bell and said “Well, we sure picked some day to work on your house, didn’t we?” I asked him what he meant, and he said “A plane flew into World Trade Center; looks like a terrorist attack.” I must have looked at him as if he had two heads, because he said “No, really — go inside and turn on your radio — you’ll see. By the way, the repair will cost $150 extra.” I went in and turned on the TV, it was about five minutes before the second tower was hit. And then I said to myself “Suppose someone decides to fly into the Verrazano Narrows Bridge?” which Karen would be crossing about then. I knew that trying to call her cell phone would be futile because of the way phone companies block incoming calls to disaster areas, but tried anyway, to no avail. As it turns out, she and her commuting partner weren’t even able to get out of New Jersey; the bridges to Staten Island were closed when the first tower was hit. I’ll admit to tearing up when I saw her get out of her friend’s car in front of the house.
A couple of weeks later, I was in Williamstown for a weekend for fundraisers and Convocation. The mood was a bit somber, but there was an upbeat “we’re healing, and moving along” tone as well. As part of Convocation, we sang “America, the Beautiful” and I was fine until we got to the second verse, with the line “Thine alabaster cities gleam undimmed by human tears.” Couldn’t get through that.
More recently, we’ve been to the memorial sites in lower Manhattan, and Shanksville, in Pennsylvania. I think the latter is a bit more difficult, maybe because you can see the idyllic setting most of the time you’re there.