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‘Were Amy’s last moments put to the best use to protect and save others?’—Michael Sweeney, Flight 11 widower
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Stewardess ID'd Hijackers Early, Transcripts Show
by Gail Sheehy
Hearing
the taped voice of a courageous flight attendant as she calmly narrated
the doomed course of American Airlines Flight 11 brought it all back.
The frozen horror of that September morning two and a half years ago.
The unanswered questions. Betty Ong narrated that first hijacking right
up to the moment that Mohamed Atta drove the Boeing 767 into the north
tower of the World Trade Center.
Twenty-three
minutes into her blow-by-blow account, Ong’s voice abruptly ceased.
"What’s going on, Betty?" asked her ground contact, Nydia Gonzalez.
"Betty, talk to me. I think we might have lost her."
Emotional
catharsis, yes. There was scarcely a dry eye in the Senate hearing room
where 10 commissioners are probing the myriad failures of our nation’s
defenses and response to the terrorist attacks of 9/11. But answers?
Not many. The most shocking evidence remains hidden in plain sight.
The
politically divided 9/11 commission was able to agree on a public
airing of four and a half minutes from the Betty Ong tape, which the
American public and most of the victims’ families heard for the first
time on the evening news of Jan. 27. But commissioners were unaware of
the crucial information given in an even more revealing phone call,
made by another heroic flight attendant on the same plane, Madeline
(Amy) Sweeney.
They were unaware because their chief of staff, Philip Zelikow, chooses
which evidence and witnesses to bring to their attention. Mr. Zelikow,
as a former adviser to the pre-9/11 Bush administration, has a blatant
conflict.
"My wife’s call was the first specific information the airline and the government got that day," said Mike Sweeney, the widowed husband of Amy Sweeney,
who went face to face with the hijackers on Flight 11. She gave seat
locations and physical descriptions of the hijackers, which allowed
officials to identify them as Middle Eastern men—by name—even before
the first crash. She gave officials key clues to the fact that this was
not a traditional hijacking. And she gave the first and only eyewitness
account of a bomb on board.
"How do you know it’s a bomb?" asked her phone contact.
"Because the hijackers showed me a bomb," Sweeney said, describing its yellow and red wires.
Sweeney’s
first call from the plane was at 7:11 a.m. on Sept. 11—the only call in
which she displayed emotional upset. Flight 11 was delayed, and she
seized the few moments to call home in hopes of talking to her
5-year-old daughter, Anna, to say how sorry she was not to be there to
put her on the bus to kindergarten. Ms. Sweeney’s
son Jack had been born several months premature, and she had taken the
maximum time off over the previous summer to be with her children. "But
she had to go back that fall, to hold the Boston-to-L.A. trip,"
explained her husband.
American’s
Flight 11 took off from Logan Airport in Boston at 7:59 a.m. By 8:14
a.m., the F.A.A. controller following that flight from a facility in
Nashua, N.H., already knew it was missing; its transponder had been
turned off, and the controller couldn’t get a response from the pilots.
The air-traffic controller contacted the pilot of United Airlines
Flight 175, which at 8:14 also left Boston’s Logan bound for
California, and asked for his help in locating Flight 11.
Sweeney
slid into a passenger seat in the next-to-last row of coach and used an
Airfone to call American Airlines Flight Service at Boston’s Logan
airport. "This is Amy Sweeney,"
she reported. "I’m on Flight 11—this plane has been hijacked." She was
disconnected. She called back: "Listen to me, and listen to me very
carefully." Within seconds, her befuddled respondent was replaced by a
voice she knew.
"Amy, this is Michael Woodward." The American Airlines flight service manager had been friends with Sweeney
for a decade, so he didn’t have to waste any time verifying that this
wasn’t a hoax. "Michael, this plane has been hijacked," Ms. Sweeney
repeated. Calmly, she gave him the seat locations of three of the
hijackers: 9D, 9G and 10B. She said they were all of Middle Eastern
descent, and one spoke English very well.
Mr.
Woodward ordered a colleague to punch up those seat locations on the
computer. At least 20 minutes before the plane crashed, the airline had
the names, addresses, phone numbers and credit cards of three of the
five hijackers. They knew that 9G was Abdulaziz al-Omari, 10B was Satam
al-Suqami, and 9D was Mohamed Atta—the ringleader of the 9/11
terrorists.
"The nightmare began before the first plane crashed," said Mike Sweeney,
"because once my wife gave the seat numbers of the hijackers and
Michael Woodward pulled up the passenger information, Mohamed Atta’s
name was out there. They had to know what they were up against."
Mr. Woodward was simultaneously passing on Sweeney’s
information to American’s headquarters in Dallas–Fort Worth. There was
no taping facility in his office, because the most acute emergency
normally fielded by a flight service manager would be a call from a
crew member faced with 12 passengers in first class and only eight
meals. So Mr. Woodward was furiously taking notes.
Amy Sweeney’s
account alerted the airline that something extraordinary was occurring.
She told Mr. Woodward she didn’t believe the pilots were flying the
plane any longer. She couldn’t contact the cockpit. Sweeney
may have ventured forward to business class, because she relayed the
alarming news to Betty Ong, who was sitting in the rear jump-seat. In
professional lingo, she said: "Our No. 1 has been stabbed," referring
to a violent attack on the plane’s purser, "also No. 5," another flight
attendant. She also reported that the passenger in 9B had had his
throat slit by the hijacker sitting behind him and appeared to be dead.
Betty Ong relayed this information to Nydia Gonzalez, a reservations
manager in North Carolina, who simultaneously held another phone to her
ear with an open line to American Airlines official Craig Marquis at
the company’s Dallas headquarters.
The fact
that the hijackers initiated their takeover by killing a passenger and
stabbing two crew members had to be the first tip-off that this was
anything but a standard hijacking. "I don’t recall any flight crew or
passenger being harmed during a hijacking in the course of my career,"
said Peg Ogonowski, a senior flight attendant who has flown with
American for 28 years.
Betty Ong and Amy Sweeney
also reported that the hijackers had used mace or pepper spray and that
passengers in business class were unable to breathe. Another dazzling
clue to the hijackers’ having a unique and violent intent came in Betty
Ong’s earliest report: "The cockpit is not answering their phone. We
can’t get into the cockpit. We don’t know who’s up there."
A male
colleague of Ms. Gonzalez then comes on the line and makes the
infuriating observation: "Well, if they were shrewd, they’d keep the
door closed. Would they not maintain a sterile cockpit?"
To which Ong replied: "I think the guys are up there."
Ms. Sweeney
told her ground contact that the plane had radically changed direction;
it was flying erratically and was in rapid descent. Mr. Woodward asked
her to look out the window—what did she see?
"I see water. I see buildings. We’re flying low, we’re flying way too low," Sweeney replied, according to the notes taken by Mr. Woodward. Sweeney then took a deep breath and gasped, "Oh, my God."
At 8:46 a.m., Mr. Woodward lost contact with Amy Sweeney—the
moment of metamorphosis, when her plane became a missile guided into
the tower holding thousands of unsuspecting civilians. "So sometime
between 8:30 and 8:46, American must have known that the hijacking was
connected to Al Qaeda," said Mike Sweeney. That would be 16 to 32 minutes before the second plane perforated the south tower.
Would American Airlines officials monitoring the Sweeney and Woodward dialogue have known right away that Mohamed Atta was connected to Al Qaeda?
"The
answer is probably yes," said 9/11 commission member Bob Kerrey, "but
it seems to me that the weakness here, in running up to pre-9/11, is an
unwillingness to believe that the United States of America could be
attacked. Then you’re not putting defensive mechanisms in place. You’re
not trying to screen out people with connections to Islamic extremist
groups."
Peg
Ogonowski, the widow of Flight 11’s captain, John Ogonowski, knew both
Betty and Amy very well. "They had to know they were dealing with
zealots," she said. "The words ‘Middle Eastern hijackers’ would put a
chill in any flight-crew member’s heart. They were unpredictable; you
couldn’t reason with them."
Ms.
Ogonowski knew this from her nearly three decades of experience as a
flight attendant for American. She and her husband had dreamt of the
time in the not-so-distant future when their teenage children would be
old enough that the couple could work the same flight to Europe and
enjoy layovers in London and Paris together. She had been scheduled to
fly Flight 11 on Sept. 13. After Sept. 11, she imagined herself in Sweeney’s
shoes: "When Amy picked up the phone—she was mother of two very young
children—she had to know that, at that point, she might be being
observed by another hijacker sitting in a passenger seat who would put
a bullet through her head. What she did was incredibly brave."
How, then,
could the commission have missed—or ignored—crucial facts that this
very first of the first responders communicated to officials on that
fateful day?
"It seems amazing to me that they didn’t know," said Mrs. Ogonowski. "The state of Massachusetts has an award in Amy Sweeney’s
name for civilian bravery." The first recipients were John Ogonowski
and Betty Ong. A full-court ceremony was held on Sept. 11, 2002, in
Faneuil Hall in Boston, with Senators Kennedy and Kerrey and the
state’s whole political establishment in attendance.
Even the F.B.I. has recognized Amy Sweeney by bestowing on her its highest civilian honor, the Director’s Award for Exceptional Public Service. "Mrs. Sweeney
is immeasurably deserving of recognition for her heroic, unselfish and
professional manner in which she lived the last moments of her life,"
according to the F.B.I.
What her
husband wants to know is this: "When and how was this information about
the hijackers used? Were Amy’s last moments put to the best use to
protect and save others?"
"We know
what she said from notes, and the government has them," said Mary
Schiavo, the formidable former Inspector General of the Department of
Transportation, whose nickname among aviation officials was "Scary
Mary." Ms. Schiavo sat in on the commission’s hearing on aviation
security on 9/11 and was disgusted by what it left out. "In any other
situation, it would be unthinkable to withhold investigative material
from an independent commission," she told this writer. "There are
usually grave consequences. But the commission is clearly not talking
to everybody or not telling us everything."
This is hardly the only evidence hiding in plain sight.
The
captain of American’s Flight 11 stayed at the controls much of the
diverted way from Boston to New York, sending surreptitious radio
transmissions to authorities on the ground. Captain John Ogonowski was
a strong and burly man with the instincts of a fighter pilot who had
survived Vietnam. He gave extraordinary access to the drama inside his
cockpit by triggering a "push-to-talk button" on the aircraft’s yoke
(or wheel). "The button was being pushed intermittently most of the way
to New York," an F.A.A. air-traffic controller told The Christian Science Monitor
the day after the catastrophe. "He wanted us to know something was
wrong. When he pushed the button and the terrorist spoke, we knew there
was this voice that was threatening the pilot, and it was clearly
threatening."
According
to a timeline later adjusted by the F.A.A., Flight 11’s transponder was
turned off at 8:20 a.m., only 21 minutes after takeoff. (Even before
that, by probably a minute or so, Amy Sweeney
began her report to American’s operations center at Logan.) The plane
turned south toward New York, and more than one F.A.A. controller heard
a transmission with an ominous statement by a terrorist in the
background, saying, "We have more planes. We have other planes." During
these transmissions, the pilot’s voice and the heavily accented voice
of a hijacker were clearly audible, according to two controllers. All
of it was recorded by a F.A.A. traffic-control center in Nashua, N.H.
According to the reporter, Mark Clayton, the federal law-enforcement
officers arrived at the F.A.A. facility shortly after the World Trade
Center attack and took the tape.
To this
writer’s knowledge, there has been no public mention of the pilot’s
narrative since the news report on Sept. 12, 2001. Families of the
flight crew have only heard about it, but when Peg Ogonowski asked
American Airlines to let her hear it, she never heard back. Their
F.A.A. superiors forbade the controllers to talk to anyone else.
Has the F.B.I. turned this critical tape over to the commission?
At the
commission’s January panel on aviation security, two rows of gray suits
filled the back of the hearing room. They were not inspectors general
of any of the government agencies called to testify. In fact, said Mary
Schiavo, there is no entity within the administration pushing any
consequences. The gray suits were all attorneys for the airlines,
hovering around while the big bosses from American and United gave
their utterly unrevealing testimonies.
Robert Bonner, the head of Customs and Border Protection, finally shot back at the panel with a startling boast.
"We ran
passenger manifests through the system used by Customs—two were hits on
our watch list of August 2001," Mr. Bonner testified. "And by looking
at the Arab names and their seat locations, ticket purchases and other
passenger information, it didn’t take a lot to do a rudimentary link
analysis. Customs officers were able to ID 19 probable hijackers within
45 minutes."
He meant
45 minutes after four planes had been hijacked and turned into
missiles. "I saw the sheet by 11 a.m.," he said, adding proudly, "And
that analysis did indeed correctly identify the terrorists."
How has American Airlines responded? According to the widower Mike Sweeney,
"Ever since Sept. 11, AMR [the parent company of American Airlines]
just wants to forget this whole thing happened. They wouldn’t allow me
to talk to Michael Woodward, and five months or so: they let him go."
The Families Steering Committee urged the commission to interview
Michael Woodward about the Sweeney
information, as did Ms. Ong’s brother, Harry Ong. A couple of days
before the hearing on aviation security, a staffer did call Mr.
Woodward and ask a few questions. But the explosive narrative offered
by Amy Sweeney in her last 23 minutes of life was not included in the 9/11 commission’s hearing on aviation security.
The
timeline that is most disturbing belongs to the last of the four
suicide missions—United Airlines Flight 93, later presumed destined for
the U.S. Capitol, if not the White House. Huge discrepancies persist in
basic facts, such as when it crashed into the Pennsylvania countryside
near Shanksville. The official impact time according to NORAD, the
North American Air Defense Command, is 10:03 a.m. Later, U.S. Army
seismograph data gave the impact time as 10:06:05. The F.A.A. gives a
crash time of 10:07 a.m. And The New York Times, drawing on flight controllers in more than one F.A.A. facility, put the time at 10:10 a.m.
Up to a
seven-minute discrepancy? In terms of an air disaster, seven minutes is
close to an eternity. The way our nation has historically treated any
airline tragedy is to pair up recordings from the cockpit and
air-traffic control and parse the timeline down to the hundredths of a
second. But as Mary Schiavo points out, "We don’t have an NTSB
(National Transportation Safety Board) investigation here, and they
ordinarily dissect the timeline to the thousandth of a second."
Even more
curious: The F.A.A. states that it established an open phone line with
NORAD to discuss both American Airlines Flight 77 (headed for the
Pentagon) and United’s Flight 93. If true, NORAD had as many as 50
minutes to order fighter jets to intercept Flight 93 in its path toward
Washington, D.C. But NORAD’s official timeline claims that F.A.A.
notification to NORAD on United Airlines Flight 93 is "not available."
Why isn’t it available?
Asked when
NORAD gave an order for fighter planes to scramble in response to
United’s Flight 93, the air-defense agency notes only that F-16’s were
already airborne from Langley Air Force Base in Virginia to intercept
American’s Flight 77. The latter jet heaved into the Pentagon at either
9:40 a.m. (according to the F.A.A.) or at 9:38 a.m. (according to
NORAD). Although the F-16’s weren’t in the skies over Washington until
9:49, the question is: Did they continue flying north in an attempt to
deter the last of the four hijacked jets? The distance was only 129
miles.
The
independent commission is in a position to demand such answers, and
many more. Have any weapons been recovered from any of the four downed
planes? If not, why should the panel assume they were
"less-than-four-inch knives," the description repeatedly used in the
commission’s hearing on aviation security? Remember the airlines’ first
reports, that the whole job was pulled off with box cutters? In fact,
investigators for the commission found that box cutters were reported
on only one plane. In any case, box cutters were considered straight
razors and were always illegal. Thus the airlines switched their story
and produced a snap-open knife of less than four inches at the hearing.
This weapon falls conveniently within the aviation-security guidelines
pre-9/11.
But bombs?
Mace or pepper spray? Gas masks? The F.B.I. dropped the clue that the
hijackers had "masks" in a meeting with the Four Moms from New Jersey,
the 9/11 widows who rallied for this independent commission.
The Moms
want to know if investigators have looked into how the pilots were
actually disabled. To think that eight pilots—four of whom were
formerly in the military, some with combat experience in Vietnam, and
all of whom were in superb physical shape—could have been subdued
without a fight or so much as a sound stretches the imagination. Even
giving the terrorists credit for a militarily disciplined act of war,
it is rare for everything to go right in four separate battles.
Shouldn’t
the families and the American people know whether or not our government
took action to prevent the second attack planned for the
command-and-control center in Washington?
Melody
Homer is another young widow of a 9/11 pilot. Her husband, LeRoy Homer,
a muscular former Air Force pilot, was the first officer of United’s
Flight 93. The story put out by United—of heroic passengers invading
the cockpit and struggling with the terrorists—is not believable to
Melody Homer or to Sandy Dahl, widow of the plane’s captain, Jason
Dahl. Mrs. Dahl was a working flight attendant with United and knew the
configuration of that 757 like the back of her hand.
"We can’t
imagine that passengers were able to get a cart out of its locked berth
and push it down the single aisle and jam it into the cockpit with four
strong, violent men behind the door," said Ms. Homer. She believes that
the victims’ family members who broke a confidentiality agreement and
gave their interpretation of sounds they’d heard on the cockpit tape
misinterpreted the shattering of china. "When a plane goes erratic,
china falls."
Now, the
most disturbing disconnect of all: The F.A.A. and NORAD had at least 42
minutes to decide what to do about Flight 93. What really happened?
At 9:30
a.m., six minutes after receiving orders from NORAD, three F-16’s were
airborne, according to NORAD’s timeline. At first, the planes were
directed toward New York and probably reached 600 miles per hour within
two minutes, said Maj. Gen. Mike J. Haugen, adjutant general of the
North Dakota National Guard. Once it was apparent that the New York
suicide missions were accomplished, the Virginia-based fighters were
given a new flight target: Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport.
The pilots heard an ominous squawk over the plane’s transponder, a code
that indicates almost an emergency wartime footing. General Haugen says
the F-16’s were asked to confirm that the Pentagon was on fire. The
lead flier looked down and verified the worst.
Then the
pilots received the most surreal order of the morning, from a voice
identifying itself as a representative of the Secret Service. According
to General Haugen, the voice said: "I want you to protect the White
House at all costs."
During
that time, Vice President Richard Cheney called President George W.
Bush to urge him to give the order that any other commercial airliners
controlled by hijackers be shot down. In Bob Woodward’s book, Bush at War,
the time of Mr. Cheney’s call was placed before 10 a.m. The Vice
President explained to the President that a hijacked airliner was a
weapon; even if the airliner was full of civilians, Mr. Cheney
insisted, giving American fighter pilots the authority to fire on it
was "the only practical answer."
The President responded, according to Mr. Woodward, "You bet."
Defense
officials told CNN on Sept. 16, 2001, that Mr. Bush had not given
authorization to the Defense Department to shoot down a passenger
airliner "until after the Pentagon had been struck."
So what
happened in the period between just before 10:00 a.m. and 10:03 (or
10:06, or 10:07)—when, at some point, the United jet crashed in a field
in Pennsylvania? Did the President act on Mr. Cheney’s advice and order
the last and potentially most devastating of airborne missiles brought
down before it reached the Capitol? Did Mr. Cheney act on the
President’s O.K.? Did a U.S. fighter shoot down Flight 93? And why all
the secrecy surrounding that last flight?
Melody
Homer, the wife of Flight 93’s first officer, was at home in Marlton,
N.J., the morning of Sept. 11 with their 10-month-old child. Within
minutes of seeing the second plane turn into a fireball, Ms. Homer
called the Flight Operations Center at John F. Kennedy International
Airport, which keeps track of all New York–based pilots. She was told
that her husband’s flight was fine.
"Whether
or not my husband’s plane was shot down," the widowed Mrs. Homer said,
"the most angering part is reading about how the President handled
this."
Mr. Bush
was notified 14 minutes after the first attack, at 9 a.m., when he
arrived at an elementary school in Sarasota, Fla. He went into a
private room and spoke by phone with his national security advisor,
Condoleezza Rice, and glanced at a TV in the room. Mrs. Homer’s soft
voice curdles when she describes his reaction: "I can’t get over what
Bush said when he was called about the first plane hitting the tower:
‘That’s some bad pilot.’ Why did people on the street assume right away
it was a terrorist hijacking, but our President didn’t know? Why did it
take so long to ground all civilian aircraft? In the time between when
my husband’s plane took off [at 8:41 a.m.] and when the second plane
hit in New York [9:02 a.m.], they could have turned back to airfield."
In fact,
the pilots of Flight 93 are seldom mentioned in news reports—only the
40 passengers. And Mrs. Homer says that hurts. "My husband fought for
his country in the Persian Gulf War, and he would have seen his role
that day as the same thing—fighting for his country. It’s my belief,
based on what I’ve been told by people affiliated with the Air Force,
that at least one of the pilots was very instrumental in the outcome of
that flight. I do believe the hijackers may have taken it down. But
stalling the impetus of the plane so it didn’t make it to the Capitol
or the White House—that was one of the pilots."
Melody
LeRoy later learned from a member of the Air Force who worked with her
husband that "a couple of weeks before the incident, they were all
sitting around and talking about the intelligence that was filtering
through the military that something big was going to happen. For all of
this to get ignored," she said as she swallowed a sob, "it’s difficult
to excuse that."
John
Lehman, former Secretary of the Navy and one of the most active
interrogators among the commissioners, was told of some of the issues
raised in this article. "These are exactly the right questions," he
said. "We have to put all these details together and then figure out
what went wrong. Who didn’t do their job? Not just what was wrong with
the existing system, but human beings."
After 14
months of watching while commissioners politely negotiated with a White
House that has used every known ruse and invented some new ones to
evade, withhold and play peekaboo with the commissioners, the Four Moms
and their Families Steering Committee feel frustrated almost to the
boiling point.
Who is
going to take a long, hard look at the policy failures and the failures
of leadership? This seems to be where some members of the 9/11
commission are heading. Commission member Jamie Gorelick, winding up
after the two-day hearings in January, said she was "amazed and shocked
at how every agency defines its responsibility by leaving out the hard
part." She blasted the F.A.A. for ducking any responsibility for the
prevention of terrorism. "We saw the same attitude in the F.B.I. and
C.I.A.—not to use common sense to evaluate a mission and say what works
and what doesn’t."
Finally,
Ms. Gorelick addressed a pointed question to James Loy, the deputy
secretary of the Department of Homeland Security, the vast,
Brobdingnagian bureaucracy which now lashes together 22 federal
agencies that didn’t talk to one another before the terrorist attacks.
"Who is
responsible for driving the strategy to defeat Al Qaeda and holding
people accountable for carrying it out?" Ms. Gorelick demanded.
"The President is the guy," said Mr. Loy. "And the person next to the President, who is the national security advisor."
The widows
are furious that Dr. Rice was allowed to be interviewed in private and
has not agreed—nor been subpoenaed—to give her testimony, under oath,
before the American people.
When 9/11
commission chairman Tom Kean gave his sobering assessment last December
that the 9/11 attacks could have been prevented, the Bush White House
saw the bipartisan panel spinning out of its control. In the
President’s damage-control interview with NBC’s Tim Russert last
weekend, Mr. Bush was clearly still unwilling to submit to questioning
by the 9/11 commission. "Perhaps, perhaps," was his negotiating stance.
Asked why
he was appointing yet another commission—this one to quell the uproar
over why we attacked Iraq to save ourselves from Saddam’s mythical
W.M.D.—the President said, "This is a strategic look, kind of a
big-picture look about the intelligence-gathering capacities of the
United States of America …. Congress has got the capacity to look at
the intelligence-gathering without giving away state secrets, and I
look forward to all the investigations and looks."
Congress
has already given him a big-picture look—in a scathing 900-page report
by the joint House and Senate inquiry into the intelligence failures
pre-9/11. But the Bush administration doesn’t look at what it doesn’t
want to see.
"It is
incomprehensible why this administration has refused to aggressively
pursue the leads that our inquiry developed," fumes Senator Bob Graham,
the former co-chairman of the inquiry, which ended in 2003. The Bush
White House has ignored all but one or two of the joint inquiry’s 19
urgent recommendations to make the nation safer against the next
attempted terrorist attack. The White House also allowed large portions
of the inquiry’s final report to be censored (redacted), claiming
national security, so that even some members of the current 9/11
commission—whose mandate was to build on the work of the congressional
panel—cannot read the evidence.
Senator Graham snorted, "It’s absurd."
You may reach Gail Sheehy via email at: gsheehy@observer.com.
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