Tuesday’s rail passengers describe a ‘war zone’

Many looked like refugees.

By: David Campbell
   WEST WINDSOR — Trains out of New York began arriving late Tuesday afternoon at the Princeton Junction train station, occasional at first, then with greater frequency. By 7 p.m. arrivals came about every 20 minutes, with some trains only three cars long, a sign of the evacuation under way.
   The passengers who disembarked looked like refugees — which, in a very real sense, they were. Those willing to talk described lower Manhattan earlier that day as a "war zone," and a "morgue."
   Keith Duckett, appearing weary with a telltale film of soot on his shoes and pinstriped suit as he emerged from the train, called it "one of the scariest things I’ve ever experienced. The (World) Trade Center literally burned and collapsed right before my eyes."
   Mr. Duckett, an East Windsor resident who witnessed Tuesday’s terrorist attack on the twin towers from his Manhattan office window, said he took shelter in the lobby of his building after the attack and eventually made his way through eerily silent and almost deserted streets.
   He said he witnessed emergency personnel laying out rows of makeshift stretchers of lumber and plywood on curbs and sidewalks, preparation for expected casualties.
   "It was the worst thing I’ve seen in my life," Mr. Duckett said.
   West Windsor police officers and emergency medical personnel were dispatched to the Princeton Junction station, ready to offer assistance and support to anybody in need.
   Police Chief Frank Cox and Capt. Joe Pica joined officers to wait for incoming trains and assist passengers.
   West Windsor Mayor Shing-Fu Hsueh, also present throughout the evening, said, "We are very concerned about a lot of West Windsor residents working in the World Trade Center."
   He said he attended emergency meetings with school, religious and municipal leaders all day and said he would be up throughout the night.
   "I suspect there are a lot of people from West Windsor and Plainsboro who were either hurt, injured or worse," Mayor Hsueh said.
   Of his own friends who worked at the World Trade Center, he said: "I don’t know how to reach them. I have a feeling this is going to be a hard night."
   Later in the week, the mayor reported his friends were fine.
   He said he was also worried about the school children who might return to empty homes at the end of the day when classes ended.
   People stood on the platform and in the parking area alone and in pairs, waiting for the train carrying their friends and family members to arrive.
   A father and small son stood together watching the southbound track, waiting. A young girl paced silently in front of ambulances parked where taxis usually pick up passengers.
   Gary Watson, a West Windsor resident who stood alone on the platform, said he makes the commute to New York every morning but opted not to go into work Tuesday. He said he was haunted by the thought of fellow commuters he knew only by face.
   "I’m contemplating what faces I’m not going to see anymore," said Mr. Watson, who works as an accountant 10 blocks from the World Trade Center.
   Another train ground to a halt at the station, bringing relief as loved ones, arriving at last, emerged from the cars. For others, it meant more waiting.
   "There he is!" shouted Elise Sultanof of Millstone when she spotted her husband, Ken, step off the train. The couple commute to New York City.
   The NJ Transit bus Ms. Sultanof rides into New York every morning was turned back at the Holland Tunnel when the first tower collapsed, a cataclysm she said she witnessed from her bus window.
   "Everyone just screamed and cried, and when we looked, there was only one tower," she said. "All there was was smoke."
   Cosmo Debari, a Manhattan bank examiner who lives in South Brunswick, described for police his harrowing escape as he was chased by a wall of smoke and ash rolling down the street following the collapse of one of the towers.
   "It was a nightmare, especially when the building came down," Mr. Debari said. "All my friends, their clothes full of soot."
   He continued, "It was like thunder. This big cloud, black, white, and everything just disappeared. I was running before the cloud."
   Gene Kaufman of East Windsor described walking in a refugee-like procession of thousands down silent city streets. People who hadn’t used a pay phone in years, but needed them because cellular service went down with the towers, were unexpectedly hard-up for change to make calls, he said.
   "Everybody knows somebody who worked in that building," Mr. Kaufman said. "We won’t know until tonight when we find out who has been killed."
   Jeffrey Jackson of Columbus waited with his daughter, Nekole, for wife and mother Arlene. As he watched another train come in, he said, "You couldn’t get in touch with people today. That’s a scary feeling. You feel pretty helpless."
   Ms. Jackson stepped off the train and waved when she spotted her husband and daughter. She descended the steps and into their arms.
   William Sachs, an accountant from Plainsboro who works near the World Trade Center, looked undone, with his jacket in his fist and his shirttails out.
   "It’s just another day in New York," he said sarcastically as he hurried to his car.