It's been half a year since a bunch of fanatic jackasses slammed passenger jets into the World Trade Center and Pentagon in an attempt to destroy the spirit of America. They brought down both towers of the Trade Center, but they brought down a world of hurt on their own heads in the process.

That situation is being taken care of, and it's being written about by people who know far more than I. I know a few things that concern this month's topic and are related to this subject in a way, however. I know that before the World Trade Center was built, the Empire State Building was the tallest skyscraper in the New York City skyline, and I know that now, after the tragic events of 9-11, it is again the tallest.

I also know that it, too, has been struck by an airplane. It wasn't a hostile act, it didn't result in thousands of deaths, but there were deaths, there was confusion, and as it happened during wartime, there was fear.

Saturday morning, July 28th, 1945, found New York City bathed in a thick fog. Visibility on the ground was bad enough, but up in the air that morning was Lt. Colonel William Smith, piloting a B-25 bomber over the city toward Newark where he was to pick up his commanding officer. The fog he found himself in was more like soup. For reasons that have never been adequately explained, Smith wound up over Municipal Airport (which is now LaGuardia) and asked the tower for a weather report. The controller instructed Smith to land, but the pilot made a serious blunder by insisting for clearance to continue to Newark. Municipal reluctantly gave the clearance, but the controller, still hoping to convince Smith of the seriousness of the situation, tried one more time, saying these final words to Smith: "From where I'm sitting, I can't see the top of the Empire State Building."

Regulations in Manhattan require all aircraft to fly no lower than 2,000 feet. Smith committed another blunder when he dropped under 1,000 feet to get out of the thickest part of the fog and take a peek at the ground, hoping to get his bearings straight. What he found was a forest of skyscrapers, the tops of which were all around him.

During the second world war many people worked a six day work week, and just about every building had a good number of people in them on every floor. The people in the uppermost floors of the New York Central Building at 9:48 AM didn't realize their luck. Colonel Smith banked away to the west just in time. How he got around the next few buildings is anybody's guess, but the one thing we do know is that despite his efforts to climb and bank away, he flew his plane, along with his two-man crew, into the north side of the 79th floor of the Empire State Building at 9:49 AM.

Inside the building there was only a small work force that day. On the 79th floor, in the offices of The National Catholic Welfare Service (now known as Catholic Relief Services), faith was put to a severe test as 11 workers were killed, some burned to death at their desks. The impact was thunderous, leading many, both inside and outside the building, to believe that New York City was being bombed. Debris was raining down from over 900 feet in the sky, much of it burning. Naturally, panic ensued.

Back on the 79th floor, a fire was burning. The 78th floor was involved, as well, and there were other problems. On impact, the plane's fuel had exploded, sending a fireball down the side of the building and through the inside via hallways and stairwells. The fireball reached all the way to the 75th floor. One of the plane's engines, broken loose from the wreckage, shot through the building, tearing through several walls and finally out a south side window, finally coming to rest on the roof of a 12-story building across 33rd Street. Miraculously, none of the tragedy's victims were killed by the giant engine.

The saga of engine number two is just as dramatic. It, too, broke loose from the plane on impact, but instead of exiting the building it flew directly into an elevator shaft and on top of an elevator car, which began to fall rapidly with two terrified women inside. Even in 1945 elevators were equipped with hydraulic "slowing" devices for emergencies like... well, nobody ever dreamed of emergencies like this one, but for emergencies, nonetheless. When a rescue crew finally reached what was left of the elevator car at the bottom of the shaft, they were amazed to find living, breathing women with one hell of a story to tell their grandchildren.

Back on 79, surviving office workers would have sadder stories to tell their grandchildren. Two of the ladies from the office saw their supervisor, Joe Fountain, standing upright and still in the flames. They called to him and he eventually walked to them, but the damage had been done and he died just a few days later. They'd never shake that vision. Nobody who was near the Empire State Building that morning would ever be able to forget the sight of that burning plane wedged in the side of the building, the black billowing smoke partially obscuring the upper floors from view.

The world has changed so much since that 1945 morning. The construction of the World Trade Center's twin towers relegated the Empire State Building to "3rd tallest building in New York" status, but as we know all too well, it has regained the rank of tallest in the saddest of ways. Thousands died in the WTC tragedy of 2001, while only fourteen died in the Empire State Building tragedy of 1945. One was an unnecessary accident, a doozy of a pilot's error, the other was murder. No, no connection, really, other than a strange feeling to it, a vibe that would appeal to Rod Serling's sense of the disconnected connected. What does it have to do with Tuning In Time? We have the original news broadcast for you to listen to in Real Audio format. If you don't have a Real player, get one free at www.real.com. If you'd like to download the newscast in MP3 format for your collection, you'll find it here.

Newscasts are among the most common OTR MP3 files out there on the net, and if you're a history buff like most Old Time Radio show collectors, they are also among the most beloved, because they're a window into the past. World War II broadcasts tell you exactly where Patton and his men were fighting at that exact moment in time, or where the Japanese were invading, or who Roosevelt was meeting with. It's easy to fall into the time machine and let your imagination take you there. Most people would think "Geez, neat place to want to go back to," but it's a fascination with an entire period of time that keeps many of us glued to News Of The World, especially when the news is 60 years old. Well... we get it, anyway.

This column is dedicated to those who died in the 1945 Empire State Building plane crash tragedy. It is also dedicated to one of the bravest, pluckiest news photographers ever to flash a bulb: Ernie Sisto. The photograph at the top of the article was taken from the 90th floor, looking down on the crash. Not content to get just any old picture, Sisto (pictured at left) opted for one that would put things in proper perspective. To do this, he had one reporter hold each of his feet and dangle him out the window so he could get past the ledge, affording him that straight-down shot. Whether he had balls the size of Texas or he was simply insane we don't know, but Ernie, here's to you for documenting history at all costs. (I vote for "crazy.")

(C) 2002 - DJ Johnson