Starting over after Sept. 11

Starting over after Sept. 11
Vernon Hills man changes his life after terrorist attacks, realizes his dream
Originally published Monday, Sept. 10, 2007
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By Nadia Malik
Daily Herald Staff Writer

Six years ago, Vadim Lovinsky feared for his life as he made his way down 61 flights of stairs as the second tower of the World Trade Center was on the brink of collapse.
On the anniversary of Sept. 11 this year, he'll be doing what he's wanted to do since the age of 14 -- working at his own restaurant.
The Vernon Hills man took over the Madison Café in Arlington Heights in May, after leaving his career as a financial adviser four years earlier.
Lovinsky said he considers Sept. 11 a second birthday of sorts, a chance to do something significant with his life.
"God gave me an opportunity," he said.
Lovinsky and 280 others -- five from Chicago -- started working at Morgan Stanley in May 2001. The group arrived in New York for training on Sunday, Sept. 9.
Two days later, the new employees met for about an hour in the South Tower of the World Trade Center.
As they were walking out of a room on the 61st floor, Lovinsky went to the window to look out onto the city.
"It was a beautiful day," he said. "I was in awe to see the (Statue of Liberty) there."
While he looked down on the sight, he felt a sound wave and heard a resounding explosion. It was 8:46 a.m.
"You could feel the building just move," he said. "That was it -- training was over."
Although he didn't know it at the time, American Airlines Flight 11 had crashed into the neighboring North Tower.
Lovinsky thought it was a gas explosion as he watched reams of paper floating in the air.
"It was like this big ball of confetti," he said. "You think about how many thousands of man-hours you've put into this paper, and it just doesn't mean anything anymore."

The flight begins
Lovinsky saw others evacuating down a staircase and followed suit.
Loudspeakers were telling people, "Get back to your offices," but he followed the orders of a fellow Morgan Stanley employee. "Forget that, we're getting out of the building," the employee said.
Lovinsky saw crowds of people running down the stairs and knew there was a chance for a stampede.
Although he was hesitant to say anything at first, his Navy training kicked in.
"You're nervous; you don't want to speak up," he said. "I started yelling out orders, you know, just like in the military again."
He told people to walk calmly so that all could make it out safely.
In his four years with the Navy, which included training at Great Lakes Naval Academy in North Chicago, Lovinsky learned fire fighting, so he knew another explosion could be imminent if there was a leak in a gas main.
He prepared others around him, telling them he could handle a fire hose with their help if that happened.
The second jolt he had feared came as the group neared the 44th floor. It was 9:02 a.m. United Airlines Flight 175 had just hit the building floors above where he had just been.
"For a second, it felt like the whole building's coming down sideways, and that was it." He locked eyes with another man and thought, "I'm going to die right now.
"And then it just stopped."
Everyone started running down the steps again. He saw huge cracks in the cinder block walls and feared the staircase couldn't handle the load. "I thought it was just going to be like an organ, collapsing on itself," he said.
He took charge again, telling everyone to slow down.
When the group made it to the 10th floor, the smells and sounds hit them. Evacuees coughed from the mixture of oil, gas and fire fumes. Lovinsky took his tie and covered his mouth and the mouth of a fellow trainee who had grabbed onto his arm.
They finally made it to the ground, but debris rained down outside, creating another hazard. The group made a run for it.
Waves of people ran from the buildings, which collapsed moments later, first the tower Lovinsky was in and then the one next to it.
"You see ambulances rushing around; you see guys being carried around," he said. "You felt like World War III just started in front of your eyes."

No escaping it
Lovinsky walked the 40 blocks to his hotel. The rest of the night, he kept his eyes on the news, which replayed the moment he had lived hours earlier over and over again.
He had occasional dreams about falling buildings, and he still isn't comfortable in a tall one. The planes flying overhead near O'Hare International Airport are a source of apprehension.
Whenever he sees a clock at 9:11, he can't get his mind off that day.
He remembers the firefighters who helped him that didn't make it out. He recalls the man at Morgan Stanley who signaled for people to evacuate; he saved their lives, but couldn't save his own.
"You thank God that you're here, always."
Lovinsky returned to his routine to avoid being mired in the past, working hard to stay at Morgan Stanley, which was laying people off daily in the economic slowdown that followed Sept. 11.
"The company's trying to save money; every day someone's getting fired," he said. "It's a terrible feeling."
By the time Lovinsky was laid off in May 2003, only 30 out of that original group of 280 trainees remained.
After a year at National City bank, he decided he needed to stop working for others.
"This is not really what I want to do with my life," he said. "I just decided that I've got to go do it for myself."
In taking that course, he also was following the advice of his parents, who had worked for General Motors in Cleveland after emigrating from the Ukraine when Lovinsky was 3½ years old.
Lovinsky had years of restaurant experience; from the age of 14 onward he had worked as a busboy, a dishwasher and a waiter. He and his friend had always talked about owning their own restaurants, and he decided to finally act on that ambition.
He and his father-in-law, Alex Serbryannyy, who had also gotten laid off from his job, bought the Island Lake Café in central Lake County in 2004. He combined his restaurant experience with his financial knowledge to help the restaurant grow.
But his wife Diana pushed him to get a restaurant of his own, asking, "What have you done so far in your life?"
When he went through a litany of the Navy, his finance career and the restaurant, she prodded: "Why don't you go do it for yourself?"
In response, he now runs the Madison Café, 902 W. Dundee Road, which he opened in May in a spot that has had a checkered history for past operators. He's determined to grow the new eatery while his father-in-law runs the Island Lake Café. They co-own the restaurants.
"I have a definition of success for myself, where I want to end up," he said. "I want to be successful with my family, financially. I want people to know about my restaurant -- that's success for me."