The mortgage industry took a deadly hit on Sept. 11, 2001. Dozens of mortgage bond traders and analysts were killed in the attacks on the World Trade Center, especially at firms like Cantor Fitzgerald and Sandler O'Neill. A former chairman of the Federal Home Loan Bank of New York died heroically. Mortgage activity in the country slowed to a trickle (but never stopped).
Ten years later, an elegant building is rising to take the place of the WTC on the Manhattan skyline. One World Trade Center, formerly known as Freedom Tower, is now 79 stories high, on its way to a planned height of 1,776 feet. It should be finished in 2013 or 2014.
It's a comforting sight and a disconcerting one, as well. I can remember seeing the original World Trade Center towers rising on the New York skyline during the 1970s. Buildings generally are supposed to last longer than human lifespans. Cathedrals can exist for many centuries, and skyscrapers like the WTC surely occupy a secular space not unlike cathedrals. But these enormous towers did not endure.
Memories of that time in New York City, where National Mortgage News is based, bring back horror, sorrow and pride. Especially haunting were the public spaces covered afterwards with postings of hundreds of homemade missing persons flyers fluttering in the wind. There was little hope any of these people were still alive, but they obviously lived on in their loved ones' minds and hearts.
The pain felt by our neighborhood's local fire company, Engine 1 Ladder 24, which lost several firefighters including their chaplain, Fr. Mychal Judge, was immense. On Sept. 12 I walked past the firehouse, which stood in the shadow of our office building, and saw a fire engine with its windows smashed and every square inch covered in dust and dirt from the towers' collapse. And on every square inch of the fire truck, people had traced out messages of comfort and support for the firefighters in the dust, with their fingers. I have ever since maintained a sincere appreciation for the everyday heroism of these firefighters, who you will see climbing up the stairs at a disaster while you are climbing down.
There were many inspiring stories to come out of those troubled weeks and months. The calmness and resiliency of New Yorkers in a crisis became legendary. The outpouring of financial aid and heartfelt emotion from the rest of the country was vast and humbling. The country was united in a way that was rare before and since.
National Mortgage News was based at the time at 11 Penn Plaza in Manhattan, directly across the street from Penn Station and not far from the Empire State Building, two obvious terror targets. The building was promptly evacuated on Sept. 11, but our staff returned the next day to report on the disaster (it was a coming of age event for our Internet operation) and prepare the next week's newspaper. It was not an easy thing to get on the train to come to work on Sept. 12, but I was determined the terrorists would not cause us to miss our deadline.
There was much to report, much of it awful, but not all of it. The Federal Home Loan Bank of New York had the foresight to get out of the towers after the 1993 attack on the WTC and relocate to 7 World Trade Center. 7 WTC caught fire and collapsed on the afternoon of Sept. 11, but everyone had been safely evacuated at the FHLB.
We were able to report over the Internet, to all those concerned about us, that all hands were safe at National Mortgage News. But soon we had a more difficult story to report, as we learned that 11 people from our then-parent company had perished in the attacks. Though it was a huge company and we didn't work with any of the units that lost people, that was what really brought the tragedy of the day home to me.
It was a difficult time at 11 Penn. We could receive phone calls but not send them (the fax machines worked and we used them to communicate with our Washington bureau). We remained very close to obvious terrorist targets, and there were many frayed nerves. We were also making space for our colleagues whose downtown office space was in the disaster area, so each day was a constant scramble. The vile smell that drifted north of the disaster site you could smell outside our building was particularly dreadful.
I'm happy to remember, though, that we finished that issue of the paper right on time. We reported on the tragedy of the trading firms that were devastated. We reported the safe evacuation of the Federal Home Loan Bank. We reported the fact that Freddie Mac and Fannie Mae kept their trading desks open throughout, and the HUD secretary's vow to keep government mortgages liquid. The mortgage industry as a whole, just like we in the publishing business, was determined not to be daunted by the brutal attacks. Of all the issues of the newspaper that I have overseen in the past fifteen years, I am proudest of that one.
The business showed a remarkable resiliency. Fierce competitors opened up their hearts and their office spaces for competing companies, like Sandler O'Neill (I visited them in temporary midtown quarters donated by Banc of America Securities, and the people there were still stunned by events but determined to keep on).
What could not be made up for was the loss of thousands of innocent lives. In the weeks to follow we reported on a sampling of mortgage-related people who died in the towers, like Herman Sandler, a founder of Sandler O'Neill, a man whose life was defined as much by his philanthropy as his business acumen. We told the story of Neil Levin, the former chairman of the Federal Home Loan Bank of New York who, as the executive director of the Port Authority on 9/11, lost his life after he went into the building to direct PA operations as thousands were streaming out the other way. And there were many, many other stories we could have reported. Far too many.
We human beings have a remarkable ability to endure the unendurable and go on. And so we went on at NMN after the disaster, and the MBS industry went on, and the city and the nation went on. But we also have a remarkable ability to remember, and Sept. 11, 2001 is an event never to be forgotten.
A year later, on Sept. 11, 2002, a fire truck stopped on a local side street and the firefighters brought out a bell to toll to mourn for those thousands who lost their lives that day a year before. I asked the fireman if I could take a few extra turns.
And I did. I rang that bell 11 times for people who had worked for our company and died, people I didn't know except to know they were a lot like me.
