“I’ll Stay with My Friend” A Touching Story from 9/11

In the end, it's always about relationships. Regardless of race, geography, background, our interactions with others matters most. — In the end, it’s always about relationships. Regardless of race, geography, or background, our interactions with others matter most. Curt with South Sudanese Friend. 2014

Scroll down to read a heartfelt comment from a co-worker of Abe and Ed.

“I’ll stay with my friend.”

By Curt Iles

Readers have permission to copy and pass on this story of two men who should not be forgotten on 9/11+25

The soul-touching story of Abe and Ed Beyea is gleaned from the excellent book, 102 Minutes by Jim Dwyer and Kevin Flynn.

World Trade Center North Tower

New York City

September 11, 2001

Stairway 27C of the North Tower of the World Trade Center was a space of both life and death on the morning of September 11, 2001, after the first hijacked plane struck this tower. As terrified office workers, many burned or injured, hurried down, courageous firefighters passed by on their way up to the impact zone around the 98^th floor.

Many of those coming down recalled the faces of two men who were at this stairwell of the 27^th floor: Ed Beyea, an employee of Empire Blue Cross and Blue Shield, sat in his motorized wheelchair awaiting the assistance of firefighters or rescuers to carry him down. Beside him stood co-worker and friend, Abe Zelmanowitz.

Exhausted firefighters, weighed down with heavy equipment and safety clothing, assured the wheelchair-bound man that help was coming up soon. As Ed Beyea patiently waited, he understood that these passing firefighters must get to the top to rescue anyone trapped near the scene of the impact.

Later, as the unending flow of workers coming down became a trickle, a concerned firefighter, stopping to catch his breath, pulled Abe away from standing beside his seated friend and whispered to the office worker, “Why don’t you go?”

“No, I’m staying with my friend,” was Abe’s quiet but sure reply.

2,749 people died in the New York attacks on September 11, 2001. They each had a story and a life. Large numbers don’t stay with us. But when those numbers were changed into names and faces, each came to mean someone personal.

This is the memorable story of two of those thousands who were in the Trade Center on that day—one who could not escape—and one who chose not to escape.

Ed Beyea was on the 27^th floor when the first plane hit his building at 8:46 am. He was a quadriplegic who had become paralyzed in a diving accident twenty years earlier. He was escorted to work each day at Empire Blue Cross and Blue Shield by his aide Irma Fuller. She had hung up his jacket and set him up with the mouth stick he used to type. Irma then left and rode up to the 47th-floor cafeteria to order breakfast.

As Irma came down after the initial plane crashed into their building, she found Ed in his wheelchair at the stairwell for the 27^th floor. By now the mass evacuation of the North Tower was in full force. With the elevators evidently being out of service, the stairs were the only way out.

With Ed’s size (he weighed 280 pounds due to kidney problems) and his heavy motorized chair, it would take four or five big men to carry him down.

Irma saw another co-worker standing by Ed Beyea’s chair. His name was Abe Zelmanowitz, another Blue Cross employee. He worked one cubicle over from Ed, and they shared a very close friendship. These two men had worked together for twelve years. In spite of great differences—physical, cultural, religious, and age-wise—they shared a special friendship that extended beyond work hours.

Ed Beyea was Catholic, and Abe Zelmanowitz was an Orthodox Jew. Beyea was thirteen years younger and twice the size of the thinner Zelmanowitz. While the wheelchair-bound Beyea talked and laughed loudly, his friend Abe was soft-spoken and unassuming.

As is so often the case in life, their friendship extended across these differences, and the bond of their relationship was strong. This connection they shared was to be tested and sealed in the coming hour.

Irma Fuller came upon these two men as she walked onto the stairwell landing at 27C. Everyone was moving in the stairwell—all those above getting out and a now-steady stream of rescue workers coming up, headed for the impact zone far above. By now everyone began to sense how serious the situation was.

This included Ed, Abe, and Irma. Abe Zelmanowitz told Irma to go, “I’ll stay with Ed.” Beyea also insisted that she leave. They both told her to find someone downstairs to come up and help.

As Irma Fuller rejoined the long procession of workers snaking their way down, Zelmanowitz hollered, “Irma, we are on 27C.”

In the coming hour, hundreds, if not thousands, passed by the landing at 27C on their way down to safety. Many told of passing the wheelchair-bound Ed with his friend Abe standing beside him.

As you’ve probably guessed, both Ed Beyea and Abe Zelmanowitz died when the North Tower collapsed at 10:28 am.

No one carried Ed Beyea down to safety. He probably could have begged rescuers to stop their upward climb to bring him down, but evidently he didn’t.

Even more remarkably, Abe Zelmanowitz could have easily walked down the 27 flights of stairs to safety and gone home that day. But he didn’t.

Instead, he chose to stay with his friend. He made a conscious choice to remain with his friend—win, lose, or draw. It would be easy to say he lost. But I’m not so sure that is how he would define his decision. An earlier Jewish philosopher named Solomon stated it this way:

“There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother” (Proverbs 18:24).

Abe was that kind of friend to his Gentile friend. He lost his life that day, but no man who demonstrates that kind of friendship can ever be called a loser.

The words of another Jewish teacher come to my mind. Jesus, whom I follow as Lord of my life, stated,

“Greater love has no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13).

That great love is the type that was exhibited on that horrible day on floor 27 of the North Tower.

We’ll never know about the last minutes of conversation between these two men—one who couldn’t escape and the other who chose not to. Reading the details of the last minutes of both towers (the South Tower, although struck second, fell twenty-nine minutes before the North Tower) informs us that those inside knew something terrible was occurring as the building shook, groaned, and vibrated in its death throes just previous to total collapse.

I can see Ed Beyea telling Abe Zelmanowitz to leave… run… flee… He still might have time to get out. The stairways were now clear, and a man Abe’s age, flooded with adrenaline, could quickly cover many flights of stairs going down.

But Abe had decided to stay with his friend—no matter what. No matter the cost. I’m sure that Ed eventually realized that Abe would not, and could not, leave.

It is not too far to imagine these two friends calmly talking at the end, reliving work stories and meals enjoyed together. I can hear Ed Beyea saying, “Abe, thanks for staying.”

And his soft-spoken friend’s reply, “Don’t mention it. You’re welcome.”

A friend named Abe, who tied a tight rope on his friend Ed and refused to let go of the rope—who kept a tight grip on his friendship when he could have instead fled and saved his own life.

Two men,

Friends in life and work.

Two men,

Joined together by the tight rope of friendship.

Joined together even in death,

To always be remembered.

Greater love has no man…

This comment was left on my blog post concerning Ed and Abe:

My name is Gregory Samuel. I was a trainee with Ed Beyea. I moved around with Ed and Irma prior to Abe coming to Blue Cross. When Abe came, Ed, Abe, Irma, and I went out to lunch. Sometimes we went with our entire group. Mr Yim, Kit Lee, and others. I left Blue Cross in 1998; if not, I would have been with Ed. In fact, I visited Ed on Roosevelt Island the weekend before 9/11

From The Mockingbird’s Song

By Curt Iles

Amazon/”The Mockingbird’s Song Curt Iles”