Let the Great World Spin

Amidst a heavy and astonished silence, New York City pedestrians strain upward, looking above themselves at someone standing at the edge of one of the World Trade Center towers in Lower Manhattan. Confused and apprehensive, the people on the ground or in cabs or on the Staten Island Ferry halt their daily routines to peer up at the small figure, thinking that he is perhaps a window washer or a construction worker or, just maybe, a suicidal jumper.

Because the man atop the tower cannot be viewed from all angles—with various buildings obstructing the line of sight—pedestrians search for vantage points from which they might be able to watch this strange display. They wait with baited breath—not wanting to stay, not wanting to leave—as they try to make sense of the long black line in front of the man, which stretches from one tower to the other.

A pigeon flies from the top floor of a nearby building. The watchers track its diving motion as it swoops near the man standing at the tower’s edge. It is at this point that they notice other people watching from the windows of nearby office buildings.

A passing weather helicopter hangs a clumsy turn, its rotor blades bleating a loud, heavy rhythm. Its window opens and a camera appears. Down below, police officers turn their sirens on. This excites the watching crowd, which starts to chatter about the many possibilities: they speculate that the man is a burglar trying to escape, that there are hostages inside the towers, that he is a terrorist, that he is advertising a product, that he’s protesting something.

Rumors spread and the commotion picks up. Police officers run into the World Trade Center to start making their way to the top floor. Fire trucks arrive; so, too, does a flatbed truck with a cherry picker. The excitement and energy is punctuated as a man opens his office window, leans out, and yells, “Do it, asshole!” After a moment, the crowd erupts in laughter.

Some of the onlookers agree: they want the man to get it over with already, to just go ahead and jump. Others disagree. Regardless, the crowd is charged with energy and anxiety as the man bends over as if to examine his shoes, and then suddenly his body seems to sail into the air. The crowd lets out an exasperated moan, and even the people who wanted him to jump are utterly shocked. Then, with relief, someone shouts that it is not the man’s body but rather a shirt that is falling and twisting its way through the air.

A new silence settles over the audience as now the man on the tower straightens to a standing position again, this time holding a long a very long and thin bar in his hands. He fixes his eyes on the opposite tower, tests the weight of the long bar, and places a foot on the wire strung between the two buildings. Below, the watchers collectively hold their breath in silence. The man walks onto the wire.