“I couldn’t help laughing — it was so beautiful,” recalled the 24-year-old professional stuntman Philippe Petit as he took his first steps that gray morning.
For nearly 45 minutes, the lithe blonde man dressed head-to-toe in black strode back and forth on the 131-foot galvanized steel cable, occasionally pausing to bend his knees or to lie down.
“There is no why,” the aeralist said later when questioned about his motivations.
“If I see three oranges, I have to juggle. And if I see two towers, I have to walk,” he told The New York Times.
The stunt took years to prepare.
Mr. Petit made nearly 200 trips to the towers to draw up the wire architecture and to smuggle in the necessary equipment, ropes and guy lines for the grand finale.
The night before, Mr. Petit and a small band of friends and conspirators slipped past the guards disguised as construction workers to execute their plan.
Just after dawn, Mr. Petit stepped out into a stiff breeze.
A quarter mile below, hundreds of pedestrians cheered as they looked skyward.
“Get off there or I’ll come out and we’ll both go down,” a police officer shouted.
And when Mr. Petit descended 110 floors to the street below, he was taken away in handcuffs.
Manhattan District Attorney Richard H. Kuh agreed to drop charges of disorderly conduct and criminal trespass in exchange for a free performance in Central Park.
“My punishment is the most beautiful punishment I could have received,” Mr. Petit told The Times.
The stunt would later be called “the artistic crime of the century” and inspire a children’s book, “The Man Who Walked Between the Towers,” and a documentary about the heist-like plot, “Man on Wire.”
Earlier this year, The New York Times interviewed Mr. Petit about his most recent book, “Creativity: The Perfect Crime.” When asked about Sept. 11, he replied:
“Those towers were almost human for me. I was in love with them, and that’s why I married them with a tight rope.”
