The 25-Year Legacy of South Tower Survivors Stanley Praimnath and Brian Clark

Nearly 3,000 people died in the terrorist attacks on New York City and Washington DC on September 11 2001. Yet, according to accounts spanning two and a half decades, Stanley Praimnath and Brian Clark remain two of only four individuals known to have survived from above the impact zone in either World Trade Center tower. Their paths crossed by chance in the choking smoke and roaring flames of the 81st floor inside the south tower, leading them down 1,620 steps and into a lifelong friendship.

As the decades passed, both men transitioned from middle age into retirement, celebrating family weddings and watching children and grandchildren grow while US presidents came and went. Throughout it all, they stayed close. Praimnath now lives in Valley Stream, Long Island, working as a pastor, grandfather, and empty-nester who views his survival through an active spiritual lens. Clark, now 79, resides in northern New Jersey with his wife, surrounded by 11 grandchildren and two great-grandchildren. He describes his survival with a different perspective, often calling his lack of long-term post-traumatic stress an unearned gift.

Even after recounting their ordeal hundreds of times—with Clark estimating between 800 and 1,200 public retellings—the memories stay sharp. Oh, gosh, exclaims Stanley Praimnath, according to recent interviews, his voice cracking with an ooooooh! as if bearing an invisible weight. It’s like reliving that day. Praimnath adds: People refer to me as ‘the 9/11 guy’. It doesn’t repetitive. It is like unloading baggage from my shoulder, like washing my soul with tears. It is comforting to know that people out there still want to hear.

Morning Routine and the 8.46am North Tower Impact

On the cloudless morning of September 11 2001, both men arrived early at their respective offices in the World Trade Center complex. Brian Clark, a Canadian executive vice-president at the financial brokerage firm Euro Brokers, sat at his desk on the 84th floor of the south tower around 7.15am. Three floors below, Guyanese-born Stanley Praimnath had settled into his workspace at Fuji Bank on the 81st floor, working as a loan officer.

The morning quiet ended at 8.46am when hijacked American Airlines Flight 11 struck the north tower. The lights above me flickered and I spun around in my chair and my peripheral vision caught flames against the window, Clark recalls. It was surreal. Two or three seconds later, the flames dissipated and the airspace was filled with singed paper. Having volunteered as a floor fire warden after the 1993 World Trade Center truck bombing, Clark grabbed an official torch marked WTC fire safety team and directed coworkers toward the central corridor.

Meanwhile, on the 81st floor, Praimnath was on the phone with a Chicago colleague who was watching the north tower blaze on television. Looking out toward the Statue of Liberty, Praimnath suddenly noticed United Airlines Flight 175 barreling directly toward him. On a given day, it was normal for a plane to zoom by a half a mile to a mile away, he recalls. But this plane is coming towards me. I made eye contact. I dropped the phone and screamed and said, ‘Lord, I can’t do this. You take over’. I don’t know why I said that – but thank God I said that.

The 9.03am South Tower Crash and the Desperate Rescue on the 81st Floor

United Flight 175 struck the south tower diagonally at 9.03am, cutting directly through the 77th to 85th floors. The impact obliterated walls, cut electrical lines, and hurled jet fuel and debris across Fuji Bank’s offices. That big orange glow that you see there – I’m stuck in the middle of it, Praimnath explains. Upon impact, it looks like a demolition crew came with a big giant wrecking ball and ripped the entire office. Every wall is flattened. I remember a large chunk of the plane was broken off and stuck in the office doorway.

Three floors above, Clark’s eastern trading floor exploded. Our room exploded, Clark states. Everything came out of the ceiling – air conditioning ducts, lighting, the whole works. For five seconds the building swayed to the west and then it swayed back to vertical. For those 10 seconds I was quite terrified, thinking the building was going to roll over. But it didn’t. Gathering six or seven colleagues, Clark headed toward stairwell A on the northwest side. On the 81st floor landing, a man and a woman coming up urged them not to descend, but their warning allowed Clark to hear a muffled cry: Help, I’m buried. I can’t breathe.

Clark squeezed through a ruined door frame into the dark 81st-floor office. Trapped under a collapsed ceiling and surrounded by encroaching flames, Praimnath prayed aloud. I can still remember the flames encroaching and I’m screaming, ‘Lord, send somebody, I don’t want to die.’ I’m crawling away from the flames, dodging all the cables that were hanging in the ceiling, short-circuiting because the sprinkler system came on, Praimnath notes. Following a flashlight beam, Clark located a hand protruding from a drywall partition, grabbed hold, and hauled Praimnath across.

After a desk gave way, both men crashed to the floor. We fell and he gave me a big kiss, Clark remembers. I said, ‘What’s going on, what are you doing?’ I stuck out my hand and said, ‘I’m Brian Clark.’ He says, ‘I’m Stanley Praimnath; we’ll be brothers for life.’ I said, ‘Well, I don’t have any siblings.’ Noting minor injuries on their hands, Clark impulsively pressed their palms together, declaring, In fact, we’ll be blood brothers for life. Come on, buddy. Let’s go home.

Evacuation, the Collapse, and the Long Road to Recovery

Rejecting the earlier warning on the landing, Clark shone his torch down stairwell A, saw no fire, and led Praimnath downward. Most of Clark’s other colleagues chose to head upward toward the roof; tragically, all 61 Euro Brokers staff members who stayed behind perished when the tower fell. When Clark and shouting emergency workers finally guided the two men onto the street, they dived into 42 Broadway just as the south tower collapsed, sending a massive wall of dust through lower Manhattan.

While Clark managed to return home with minimal psychological fallout, Praimnath’s return was marked by severe trauma and memory loss. Back on Long Island, he initially failed to recognize his own wife, Jennifer. I wanted to know what this strange woman was doing in our house with two children, not going home. I refused to go to bed because this strange woman was in that room, Praimnath explains. Jennifer cared for him patiently, leaving water, a sandwich, an apple, and a notepad daily until his memory finally returned weeks later.

Over the subsequent 25 years, the two survivors remained deeply connected. Praimnath attended family celebrations, including sitting at the head table when Clark’s eldest daughter married. Brian introduced me to all his friends and family as his blood brother. You could see people looking around, thinking, ‘Something doesn’t quite fit the picture!’ But Brian didn’t care. That’s who he is. He is the big brother I never had, Praimnath remarks.

Passing the Story to a New Generation and Reflecting on Modern Conflict

As the 25th anniversary approaches, both men frequently speak to audiences for whom the attacks are historical text rather than living memory. Clark notes that students rarely ask about textbook summaries, stating, What textbooks don’t have is the emotional reality, the optimism that life carries on despite terrible evil.

Yet both survivors view the contemporary political and global landscape with complex emotions. Clark, reflecting on decades of subsequent foreign wars, has evolved into an outspoken pacifist. With 25 years of time to think about it, I realise more and more the utter futility of war. I think of Germany, Italy, and Japan being our greatest allies today. What on earth are we doing to ourselves? Dropping bombs on residential areas in Ukraine, Russia, Gaza – what a senseless waste of energy and human life, Clark argues. He also voiced sharp criticism over public celebrations following the 2011 death of Osama bin Laden, stating, Capture him, interrogate him, lock him away – fine. But taking lives and celebrating it? No. That is not who we should be.

Reflecting on national unity, Praimnath observes how quickly post-9/11 solidarity faded, yet maintains faith in human resilience. After that infamous day, the entire nation rallied around each other. All the churches were packed. A month later, everything went back to normal, Praimnath reflects. But I still believe we are a resilient people. We may have our political differences but at the end of the day we know that, when tragedy strikes, the labels fall away. On the 81st floor, there were no Republicans or Democrats, no Black or white. We were just brothers trying to find the way out.