Philippe Petit - To Reach the Clouds: My High Wire Walk Between the Twin Towers

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Table of Contents

The Very Reverend James Parks Morton, my spiritual father, Dean Emeritus of the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine, once said, Philippe does not believe in God, but God believes in Philippe. How else would I have been blessed with the superb craftsmanship of the worlds best editor, Rebecca Saletan? Our frequent eight-hour-long sessions were joyous brainstormings rather than the bloody combat I had anticipated. Without impoverishing the story or curtailing my style, Becky improved the structure of the book and refined the texture of my writing to such a degree that I owe her a compliment inspired by the film As Good As It Gets : You make me want to be a better writer. In the process, the unbelievable happened: I now count a literary editor among my friends!

Thanks to the continuous support of Andrew Wylie and the vision of my literary agent, Jeffrey Posternak, To Reach the Clouds reached North Point Press/Farrar, Straus and Giroux with the swiftness of an arrow shot by Jean-Louis.

Jean-Pierre Pappis of Polaris Images aided me literally day and night with the illustrations. When it came to maneuvering my way through my vast archive of film and videoan essential part of researching the storyJohn Love and his New Vision Communications provided invaluable technical help.

I shared my concerns about technical accuracy regarding the twin towers with Guy F. Tozzoli, and received, along with colorful stories, a personal introduction to Leslie E. Robertson, the principal structural engineer.

During the writing of this book (and before), Jay Goerk, Judith Friedlaender, Debra Winger, and Joe DeBellis contributed a resource I know little aboutmoneyexemplifying friendship at its most generous.

What do you call an invitation to break bread with the best restaurateurs in the woridculinary friendship? Thank you Karen and David Waltuck, along with Sara and Jake, for opening your home to Kathy and me, and for the earthly delights from your sublime Chanterelle.

Valerie Fanarjian, inspiring Catskills artist of vast talent, opened her heart and her home to encourage the authorthe public reading she organized helped me put the manuscript to the test.

Elaine Fasula, Steve Moore, and little Raimi the frog-hunter in their house at the top of the hill were always eager to share their pasta al pesto on short notice, and to listen to the latest chaptersin-progress.

A storm fells a tree, cutting power? My neighbor T.J. Kellogg, with his wife, Charlene, their children, and his backhoe, was a speedy warrior against the forces of nature that tried to prevent me from writing.

A few miles away, renaissance artist John Kahn offered myriad forms of friendship and support. On the other side of the ocean, Dr. Catherine Dolto, my Valet dEpee, knows my every move, and waits with love to assist me.

Living legend Francis Brunn, performer extraordinaire Nathalie Enterline, and flamenco guitarist Raphael Brunn were the perfect Manhattan hosts during the period of numerous meetings with my publisher. Francis and I have brought the art of interruption to new heights, but his opinions, even expressed in the heat of our crisscrossing monologues, carried weight with me and influenced the book.

A special bow of gratitude to producer-director James Signorelli, who was the first to believe in this true crime story, and who helped so much in assembling the mosaic of information I needed to write it.

Welcome to the Right Reverend Mark S. Sisk, fifteenth Bishop of New York, and to the Very Reverend Dr. James A. Kowalski, ninth Dean of the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine. I cannot wait to start daydreaming about new projects in my triforium office at the Cathedral, which I salute and thank here for continuing to shelter and inspire this poet-of-the-sky.

To Reach the Clouds opens and closes with an immense thank you to Kathy ODonnell. Only she and I know how many words were processed, copied, challenged, replaced, retyped and changed again, all with her unflagging literary expertise and energy. I am eager to work with her on the next book, on the next walk.

Books
Trois Coups
On the High Wire
Trait du Funambulisme
Funambule

Major Performances
Cathedral of Notre-Dame
Sydney Harbour Bridge
World Trade Center
Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine
Paris Opera
Museum of the City of New York
Lincoln Center
Jerusalem (A Bridge for Peace)
Grand Central Terminal
Eiffel Tower
Tokyo, Akasaka
Vienna Film Festival
Frankfurt Cathedral
American Museum of Natural History
Crossing Broadway, New York City

Works in Progress
Canyon Walk
The Sydney Walk
Easter Island Walk

Films with Philippe Petit
Concert in the Sky
High Wire
Niagara: Miracles, Myths & Magic
Tour et Fil
Werner Herzogs Filmstunde
National Geographic Profile of Philippe Petit
The Man on the Wire
Historischer Hochseillauf
Mondo
Novas Secrets of the Lost Empire

IN MEMORIAM

ON THE MORNING OF SEPTEMBER 11, 2001, THE TWIN TOWERS OF THE WORLD TRADE CENTER WERE DESTROYED.

MY TOWERS BECAME OUR TOWERS. I SAW THEM COLLAPSEHURLING, CRUSHING THOUSANDS OF LIVES.

DISBELIEF PRECEDED SORROW FOR THE OBLITERATION OF THE BUILDINGS, PERPLEXITY DESCENDED BEFORE RAGE AT THE UNBEARABLE LOSS OF LIFE.

EYES CLOSED, I REMEMBER AND PAY MY RESPECTS

TO THE VICTIMS AND TO THEIR FAMILIES.

Forged by fortuitousness, forever is a dangerous word.

On the morning of July 14, 1902, the floating city of Venice woke up to a low-pitched, quavering sound.

Overlooking the square of San Marco, the Campanile, the 325-foot tower that was a symbol of the citys power and prosperity, forever its pride, shivered, shook, and collapsed.

On itself.

Like that.

In a cloud of masonry dust.

A miracle for the busy crossroadmarkets unfolding, churches congregatingthat no one was hurt.

A kid picked up a brick to look at it. It was unbroken, as were the million othersa miracle of a different sort. The brick was passed to someone else. A human chain soon formed. Each brick was retrieved, cleaned, and stacked.

By evening, it was decided the Campanile would be rebuilt comera, dovera: as it was, where it was.

Before midnight, posters announcing the news, and printed free of charge by an old typesetter, were pasted all over the city by its proud inhabitants.

A new tower, an exact replica, was inaugurated in 1912.

Remember the World Trade Center tragedy.

Establish a memorial site.

Build again.

Let us pass from hand to hand the bricks of renaissance. Let us print WE SHALL NOT BE DOOMED and paste the message high in the sky, for all in the world to read aloud.

Let us rebuild the twin towers.

We need the fuel of time and money, the mortar of ideas, and the million bricks of everyones concern. Bring yours.

Here is mine:

I envision the twin towers comera, dovera, but with a twist, a dash of inventive panache. Architects, please make them more magnificenttry a twist, a quarter turn along their longitudinal axes. Make them higheryes, one more floor, so they reach 111 stories high. And make them stronger, as well as stronger-lookingsmoothing the base outward, like those coffee cups that are impossible to topple, is one way. Ill wait. Well wait.

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