Guyanese Immigrant Remembers Day Of Terror By Felicia Persaud New York, October 2001: Loud explosions, dust piles, flying objects and terror-stricken people are some of the images Guyanese immigrant Rawle Persaud says he'll carry with him for the rest of his life. Persaud, who is also the brother of this writer, worked at the American Express building, just about a block from the infamous landmark. For this 21-year-old, that Tuesday morning started out like any other day. He reported for his job at 8 a.m. and began what he thought would be another uneventful eight hours of work. Instead, at around 8:50 a.m., Persaud says he and fellow co-workers were interrupted on the intercom by an announcement, which basically stated, that a plane had flown into one of the towers of the Trade Center and that all employees should stay inside the building. He said several employees ignored this warning, wandering off instead to peer outside in an effort to see firsthand what had occurred. But about 10 minutes later, Persaud said a New York City detective entered the office and informed several stunned employees that another plane had flown into the Center's second towers and the incident was now being treated as a terrorist attack. The Jamaica, Queens resident said this was all he needed to hear. He grabbed his bag and headed down stairs to the street level. There Persaud said he joined hundreds of curious onlookers in staring up at the two towers, which were ablaze. As police, detectives, EMS crew and FBI agents began filling up the streets, Persaud said a sudden tremor shook the pavement beneath his feet. A series of explosion followed, he said, and shouts of "it's going to collapse, it's going to collapse," filled the air. Persaud said as he raised his eyes upwards, they beheld an incredible sight that will stay with him forever. "I saw one of the towers ­ I don't remember if it was the first or the second ­ begin crashing downwards," said the Guyanese national. "And then this huge cloud of dust started coming our way." Persaud said that's when he began running. He said he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, heading up town. All around him, he said people, were yelling or crying. Even policemen, he said, were running, trying hard to get away from the fast approaching dust and debris. A few other people milled around the street, looking dazed, he said. Some even sat on the road corners crying while others jostled to board buses or squeeze their way into buildings. Still more, he said, ran around calling out the names of their friends, as tears streamed down their faces, blackened by the falling cement dust. Persaud said he headed for Canal Street and then began running down Broadway, trying to put enough distance between him and the thick cloud of dust, flying objects and sooth. "All this time I was thinking what if another plane was overhead and started dropping bombs," he revealed. "And where was safest ­ the 59th Street or the Brooklyn Bridge."At the same time, his breathing became heavy, he claimed, and he had to stop for a bottle of water. "I swallowed down some water to try to clear my throat and then poured some on my face," said Persaud. "And then I kept on running." He decided on the 59th Street and made it all the way up to Sixth Avenue and the fifties, before he ran into a group of colleagues, getting ready to flee the city via their car. They invited him to pile on in, but it was hours before they made it to Queens because of the traffic jam and confusion on the bridges leading out of the city. For Persaud, the day will always be remembered, not only for the fear it triggered in him, but also the fear that was visibly imprinted on the faces of hundreds of other New Yorkers he passed.