North Bay business leaders, family remember 9/11 losses, unity 20 years after that day
Like other monumental moments in U.S. history such as President John F. Kennedy’s assassination and the first moon landing, most people old enough to remember will recall where they were Sept. 11, 2001.
In Neil Hennessy’s memory, the financial adviser stood steps away from taking the elevator up the World Trade Center’s Twin Towers, a definable symbol of U.S. commerce and financial trading in the New York skyline.
In the attack, terrorists guided two planes into the World Trade Center. Combined with downing a plane into the U.S. Pentagon and a Pennsylvania field, the attacks killed about 3,000 people.
In an instant, our innocence was lost while the New York Stock Exchange tumbled. Fear and uncertainty — the market’s nemesis — were instilled as Americans pondered going to war.
But during that time, an undaunted resilience and camaraderie were gained — with some parallels to today’s tragic events. Even in a highly competitive business world of market trading, unaffected firms came to the rescue of those finance companies wiped out in a flash in order to help them rebuild capital and client confidence.
Using gut instincts
Hennessy was headed into an elevator to a series of business meetings starting that morning, but he backed off when he saw the face of a man getting off of it.
“I just happened to see something in his eye. I told Frank, ‘Something’s not right. We should get out of the building,’” he told the Business Journal.
The Hennessy Advisors CEO’s instincts didn’t prove him wrong. He and his colleague walked toward the Hudson River when they noticed the north tower — which was struck at 8:45 a.m. EST — on fire with smoke billowing out of it. Then a plane flew right over them and into the south tower, which was hit at 9:03 a.m. EST.
“When I saw the plane, I thought it was a bomber,” said Hennessy, who was taken by how beautiful and clear the day appeared. “As we walked, I heard a crack.”
The south tower came down at 9:59 a.m., about a half hour before its twin, creating a cloud of dust and debris crashing to the city streets and prompting Hennessy and his colleagues to get their bearings. Frantic pedestrians were borrowing cell phones. After one failed attempt, the businessmen found an open church.
“What else are you going to do?” he asked.
After holing up overnight in a hotel room, Hennessy embarked upon a city exodus that resembled a few blundering, scrambling scenes in “Planes, Trains and Automobiles.” First, the lights went out in the underground train he traveled on. Then, getting a rental car home proved problematic. He persevered, and the Novato office staff monitored his cross-country, three-day journey in a “Where’s Waldo” fashion.
“I learned how good middle-America is at coming up with cowboy songs,” he said, jokingly.
Hennessy arrived home with his family waiting for him to pull up out front and a neighborhood gathering to go to.
“It was a good ending to a shitty week,” he said. “As I look back, I’ll never forget it. I could have been on that elevator. I guess it was the luck of the Irish. My mother had good instincts. I was very fortunate because I got home, which is more than I can say about the Sloans.”
Remembering Paul
Paul Sloan, known for his bright eyes and mental toughness, was enjoying a promising future as an investment analyst with Keefe, Bruyette and Woods, working for the investment bank on the 89th floor of the south tower.
The former San Marin High School graduate and offensive lineman on the football team, who also played at Brown University where he majored in history, shared good instincts with Hennessy. He knew to call his mother when the plane hit the north tower.
“He told me, ‘Mom, I’m OK,’” Muffy Sloan said, yet adding she sensed “a little trepidation” from her son. Mixed messages were sent on whether employees should exit. “Then, he said, ‘I have to go. I guess we’re leaving,” she said.
Then came the call from his sister Sarah — who was also working in finance out in New York — telling her brother “to get out of there,” the mother recalled. The line went dead. Sloan perished at age 26.
“Paul will always be 26 to us. He won’t change. He was taught to just do your job and everyone will benefit from the summation of everybody doing theirs,” father Ron Sloan said, while perfectly describing synergy. “He wanted to be in business and had the aptitude for it.”
And Sloan should know. The retired Invesco financial adviser has logged 50 years in the industry.
Sloan vividly recalls how the financial community in 2001 pulled together after the tragedy.
