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Adam Mayblum's, "The Price We Pay"

Is the harrowing tale of Adam Mayblum's escape from one of the doomed WTC towers true?

❶I was able to visulize what he was saying. Unfortunately, Ramos is not an uncommon name in New York.

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A brave man was fighting a fire with the emergency hose. I stopped with to friends to make sure that everyone from our office was accounted for. We ushered them and confused people into the stairwell. In retrospect, I recall seeing Harry, my head trader, doing the same several yards behind me. I am only I have known him for over 14 years. I headed into the stairwell with 2 friends. We were moving down very orderly in Stair Case A. At least not overt panic. My legs could not stop shaking.

My heart was pounding. Some nervous jokes and laughter. I made a crack about ruining a brand new pair of Merrells. Even still, they were right, my feet felt great. We checked our cell phones. Surprisingly, there was a very good signal, but the Sprint network was jammed. I heard that the Blackberry 2 way email devices worked perfectly.

On the phones, 1 out of 20 dial attempts got through. I knew I could not reach my wife so I called my parents.

I told them what happened and that we were all okay and on the way down. Soon, my sister in law reached me. I told her we were fine and moving down. I believe that was about the 65th floor. We were bored and nervous. I called my friend Angel in San Francisco. I knew he would be watching.

He was amazed I was on the phone. He told me to get out that there was another plane on its way. I did not know what he was talking about. By now the second plane had struck Tower 2.

We were so deep into the middle of our building that we did not hear or feel anything. We had no idea what was really going on. We kept making way for wounded to go down ahead of us. Not many of them, just a few. No one seemed seriously wounded. Just some cuts and scrapes. Everyone was a hero yesterday.

I had co-workers in another office on the 77th 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 53rd 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 44th 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 33rd 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. 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 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.


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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 .