9/11 - Tell me your stories (Part 1)
A few months ago, my sister, who lives on an Army base with her family, asked another Army wife, “What were you doing on 9/11?” The 20-year-old looked perplexed for a minute, and then asked, “When was 9/11?”
That kind of ignorance or indifference to this date still has me stunned, months after hearing that story. I noticed that the History Channel has 9/11 documentaries running all day today, but each year the attention given to this date seems to noticeably decrease. And so, every year I have a personal tradition of posting the stories people have shared with me of their recollections of September 11th.
I’m not looking for your opinion of 9/11 now; I’m interested in what that moment in time was like for you then. What were you thinking? What were you doing? How did it impact you personally? How significant is that date to you now, nearly a decade later?
Remember the flags that everyone seemed to have out? Remember the mini-flag poles you could buy to attach a flag to your car window? Remember when everyone would applaud their cops, police, firefighters and soldiers upon each random encounter? Remember how angry and afraid we all were? Remember how the news was pre-empting every show for days, with those scrolling tickers at the bottom listing HUGE estimates of the death toll?
At least, that’s some of what I remember. I’d like to know what others remember feeling and thinking and doing on that day and those that followed.
In each case, those who have shared their stories gave me permission to include them in my annual re-post. However, if I’ve neglected to get your permission or if you would rather not have your story included in this, please let me know and I will delete yours immediately.
And if you haven’t yet shared your story - or if you have, but you’ve got a new perspective on things now, years after originally replying to me - please share your story here, too. If you don’t want me to include your recollections in next year’s recap, please let me know when you post.
To jog your memory of how you felt back then, there’s a great archive of 9/11 photography, and within that I found this flash show. Turn down the music if you're not one to like having emotional chains yanked (especially since the songs have nothing to do with this tragedy), but the pictures are good. What really stood out to me, though, were the figures. Remember when we expected 10,000 to be dead? Or 20,000? One of the things I find most amazing about that horrible day is how much worse off it could have been. Thank God for that.
Here is the first set of September 11th memories:
gioiamia's story:
I was pregnant with my daughter at that time and not sleeping well. I was still in bed when my mother called and woke me up, telling me to get to the TV fast. I turned on the TV just after the 2nd tower was hit. I remember the look on my husband's face as we watched the towers fall; he looked just as shell-shocked as I felt.
I reluctantly got ready for work and drove out to my office in the suburbs of Chicago. By this time, downtown Chicago was evacuating. The traffic was wretched as everyone fled in obvious panic. When I got to work I remember the phone ringing all day from entertainers, politicians and VIPs who were stranded and expected me to be able to find them a way home. When I called my local Enterprise office for one such VIP, the agent said immediately, "Joia, don't even ask - there's not a car left in the city." It wasn't even noon at that point.
I didn't know anyone in NY or D.C., but I had just flown my staff back from an event in New York the day before. They were originally scheduled to spend Sept. 11th in meetings with our client in Manhattan, but decided to come back early on Sept. 10th. Had I not been pregnant, I would've been with them. As it was, I didn't make it back to NY till the next year, around August 2002. I got to see Ground Zero and the memorials that were still on the fences. My son (then age 7-1/2) was with me and has talked ever since about what an amazing thing that makeshift memorial was.
angelicus' story:
I don't know how to explain the surrealness of mourning someone you loved when an entire nation is mourning right there with you. I can't really tell you what I remember about that day. It's all a blur. But one thing's for sure. I'll never be allowed to forget it. I'll never be able to turn on a TV this time of year without seeing it over and over and over again. Like a never-ending, yearly nightmare that I know is coming. Every time they show the debris that we all know isn't really debris, every time I see those buildings fall, I have to see her die all over again. It makes my stomach turn to know that every year for the rest of my life, I will have a public home movie by which to remember Sarah's death. It took me 5 years to realize this. And it kinda sucks.
cookie2697's story:
It's weird today because I've been acutely aware of the anniversary all day today, yet it hasn't been in my face too much. Maybe perhaps because I was out of town this weekend and haven't been watching much TV or reading the newspapers? I don't know. It's very strange how quiet this year has felt to me.
But regardless
Very few people I know on the west coast actually saw the events of 9/11 happen live. Mostly because it was still early on the East Coast...I recall that it was around 6am in California when the first plane hit the tower.
I was still going to DVC at the time, as I have been a lot over the past 7 years of my life, and that semester happened to be one in which I had an 8am class. I think it might have been the ONLY 8am class that I had the entire time I went to that school. But regardless, I was up at 6am that day.
I've always been a routine oriented person, and 9/11 was right in the heart of Roswell obsession time for me. I think I was still admining at Fanatics at the time, and I checked the site about 100 times a day at that point in time. So my morning routine included computer time. I remember that morning, my alarm went off at 6amish, and I immediately stumbled downstairs to boot up the computer. My dad works nights, and comes home around that time, usually having breakfast and watching morning news, and I remember when I stumbled downstairs, I was aware that there was a big news story on, but I didn't process it. Just flipped on the computer to boot, and stumbled back upstairs to shower and get dressed.
I came back down around 6:30 and I never made it back to the computer. After showering, I was coherent, and this time I realized what I saw on the TV - the twin towers smoking. I sat down with my dad and I couldn't pull my eyes away from the TV.
The thing I remember the most clearly was watching live as the first tower collapsed. I think it was literally one of the most terrifying and disturbing things I've ever seen in my life. I think we had CNN on - I'm not sure. We might have been flipping between channels. But whatever channel was on, the camera was live on a female reporter on the street below the towers. All of a sudden smoke filled the screen, and the woman disappeared. And all we could hear was her screaming - loud, terrifying, REAL, bloodcurdling screams. Live. On the news. That moment has always stayed with me, and I've always noticed that as they replayed news footage from that morning over the course of the next week, no one EVER replayed that moment. And I'm thankful for that, because it's not something I'd want to relive.
It didn't even occur to me NOT to go to school. I've had people later be surprised that I went, but I dunno...it just didn't occur to me. I got in my car, flipped on the news on the radio, and I honestly believe it's the only time in my life that I ever listened to the news on my way to school. I was just terrified and I wanted to have all the information.
It was right when I pulled into the parking lot at school that the 2nd tower collapsed.
I walked into class that morning - I was taking HTML - and it was oddly quiet as people came in and sat down. The teacher took roll, and immediately afterwards, a girl in my class raised her hand and asked the teacher if we could talk about what was going on. The teacher looked at her, rolled his eyes, and said in the horrible, nasally, snotty voice, "Oh, we're not going to waste time talking about THAT." At least 5 people in the classroom sat up straighter and asked what she was talking about. There were people in the room that didn't even know what was happening yet, and my teacher wouldn't let us speak another word about it. I lost all respect for that teacher that day. And I'm pretty sure I ended up dropping the class in the end.
After that things are rather a blur. I remember hearing rumors left and right that there were still runaway planes in the sky. I remember going to the computer lab, checking Fanatics, and talking to people about what they'd heard. I also remember that I felt like I was getting no real information from the news websites. I don't remember going to another class that day. Maybe I skipped it to stay in the computer lab? I'm not sure. But I remember coming home and watching the news with my Mom all afternoon.
Early evening hit, and I couldn't take it all anymore. There was no new information coming out. Everything on the news was repetitive. So I decided to go out. I drove out to Fremont to meet up with a couple of camp friends who I was spending a lot of time with that month. I remember that we wanted to be outside, so we went to this park in Fremont, and climbed to the top of the play structure, where we lay back and stared at the stars. They smoked, and I just kept staring at the stars. I remember seeing a plane go over, and it chilled me to the bone, because I knew that all planes had been grounded. Later I realized it was probably a military plane watching the bridges.
And that was my 9/11. I remember more than anything being so happy that I didn't have to work that day. I can't imagine what it would have been like to be stuck behind a counter in a drug store while all of that was going down. *shudder*
janajoh's story:
In August 2001, my brother died. It was a horribly tragic and completely unexpected death. He was 20. I grieve for him still, even more so than any other death I have experienced since I turned 16.
I was still involved with the UT Band. We would be traveling to Gainesville for the UT vs. Florida game. The last time I went out of town, my brother died (Hubby and I had traveled to Memphis to visit my m-i-l); I was scared out of my mind that if I went to Florida, Hubby or someone else would die. I should also mention I was having dreams about my brother so I hadn't been sleeping well.
Anyway, Hubby called me at work when the first plane hit. He kept asking if we had a television in the office because we really needed to watch it. One of the ladies I worked with had her radio tuned to the local country station; she said there had been an air traffic accident. When the second plane hit, Hubby called once again, saying it was intentional. We listened by the radio for the next couple of hours.
When I got home that night, I was glued to CNN. To see the planes, to watch the towers fall, it was too fresh for my already-debilitating grief. All those families left behind. I could completely relate.
On Thursday afternoon, I loaded a bus to drive to Jacksonville. The UT Band never stayed in Gainesville (where the U of F campus is) -- but as soon as I stepped onto the bus, I knew I didn't want to go. Someone successfully talked the SEC commission into postponing all of the weekend's games. I headed back to my car and headed home. I think I cried all the way there.
Not to minimize anything any of those directly involved with 9/11, but it opened the floodgates for me and my own personal grief. I could begin to function as a normal human again instead of going through the motions of my life. I didn't understand why (still don't) but I began to accept I couldn't wave my magic wand and bring my brother back.
mockingbird39's story:
I was in Boston when the planes hit the towers, working downtown at a big firm that has offices on the 38th floor of a State Street building. I was already at work when it happened, sitting in my office with the door shut because I had a huge overseas conference call coming up and my assistant used to like to come in and complain to me about his boyfriend first thing in the morning. I was NOT in the mood to deal with it that day. A month earlier I had been in New York to visit a client who had an office in one of the Towers, and had also gotten to see a very close friend of mine from college who worked in the same building. I remember thinking she had the most amazing view and wondering if the client I had visited needed any new staff.
A little before nine, my assistant came in while I was on the phone with my boss. He waved through the window and sat down at his desk. A few minutes later, I saw him run down the hallway toward the conference room. Not thirty seconds later, my boss said, "Oh my god. Are you sure?" He told me to go to the conference room, so I did and got there to find the big TV tuned to CNN, which was showing live feed of the second tower with a big, smoking hole in it. The image was so surreal that at first I didn't realize it had hit midway up the structure. Smoke obscured a lot of the top, so it was hard to tell how bad it was. I also didn't realize that both towers had been hit by then, and that you couldn't see the first tower because of the angle of the camera and also because of the smoke.
Someone said, "A plane just crashed into the World Trade Center in New York." I remembered hearing about a small plane crash like that years ago, and my first thought was that I wondered how you could accidentally fly your plane right into the center of the Tower like that. I could understand sort of clipping it with a wing, but the center? It didn't occur to me that it wasn't an accident. Someone else said, "Don't we have clients in that building?" and I realized that I had been right there in that building, not a month before, and now it was smoking and crumbling like something out of a disaster movie. It was a second or two before I realized that I also had a friend in that building, and that another friend's brother worked there, too. But my brain didn't really process that information until later.
Instead, I remembered that I had a conference call that afternoon and still didn't have my budget spread sheets, and I spent a couple of minutes annoyed that my assistant was standing there in front of the TV and not printing my spread sheets. It was so stupid, and yet I fixated on it right up until they started showing footage of the people on the ground running from the scene.
Since the planes had come from Boston and because we were in a big bank building right next to City Hall, the evacuation announcements came pretty quickly. One minute it was, "Leave if you want to," and the next minute it was, "Everyone out -- now." I remember going down to the Red Line train and no one was saying anything except the T officials, who were repeating, "Come on through, come on through," in a monotone. The woman in front of me kept trying to give them her token, not understanding that they had thrown open the turnstiles and gates to get everyone out as quickly as possible. I felt relatively safe on the train, right up until we went above ground to cross the bridge over the Charles. We stopped at that stop to let more people on, and all of a sudden I felt so utterly exposed and vulnerable.
When I got to Harvard Square, I looked up at the sky and it was such a perfect, clear, crisp blue that I thought there had to be a mistake. I thought for sure that we had all overreacted and that I'd find out later everyone had gone back to work and I was behind. It was just too peaceful for something of that magnitude to have happened. At home my roommates and I sat around watching TV with our cell phones in our hands. Later that night, one of my roommates and I walked up the hill to the Catholic church. I don't remember actually making the decision; we just went. We couldn't think of anywhere else to go.
The next couple of days are kind of vague in my mind, except that I remember talking on the phone a lot. Everyone started calling to check in and find out who else we'd all been in touch with. It was actually kind of pleasant. I talked to people that I didn't hear from a lot, and caught up on a lot of things I'd missed. That first night -- and into the next couple of days -- I convinced myself that my friend in the Towers had gotten out, or that she hadn't been in there at all. When they gave the official times of the crashes, I was certain. Katie was never early for work. She wouldn't have gotten there before nine. No way. I waited for her to call me, I tried calling her, and I asked all our friends if they'd heard from her. I figured she was just in shock, or that the phones were really down. But after a couple of days when no one had heard from her and her voice mail box was still full it didn't look right. I didn't really want to talk to any of our mutual friends then because I didn't want to hear any of them say it. I avoided pretty much everyone who knew her until late the next week when I got a message that she'd sent an e-mail from her work account to her sister-in-law at 8:30 that morning.
It's been five years and there are days that I still can't process what happened that morning. Every month on the 11th, I sit and silently calculate how many months it's been since it happened. When the movies about Flight 93 and the Towers started to come out, I was angry that Hollywood thought they had to retell that story so quickly. I don't need anyone to remind me of what happened. I think about it every time I pass a firehouse, or when the clock hits 9:11 or when I plan a party or reunion or even a mass e-mail that doesn't include my friend Katie. Part of me is afraid that when people see it on the big screen it will become less real to them, that they'll start picturing the actors who play the characters instead of the people who lived the stories. At the same time, I know that there are some people who have a hard time connecting to what happened. If seeing the Hollywood version gives it a face they can remember and relate to, I guess it's a good thing. All I know is, it's too soon for me. I know that it's been five years, but yesterday it felt like a few weeks or even a few days. Today I have some space again, and that's probably why I was able to write all this down.
For all my interest in WWII and my history geek-ness, December 7 is just another day. I wonder if I'll ever feel that way about September 11.
muffinkath7's story:
I didn't find out until I got to work at 8:25ish my time. I was listening to a CD in the car, so didn't hear it on the radio. I think both planes had gone into the building at that point. A teaching assistant (one I hated, which I strangely still remember now) came out of the office and told me. I just sort of shrugged it off, thinking that he was a moron - that it had obviously been some kind of accident. Then I heard it from a few other people, and it began to sink in what was happening.
Our school is right on the flight path for the airport. We heard planes landing in Winnipeg all morning. Our librarian set up a TV in the library. My kids happened to be in there on a library orientation, so the librarian and I just ended up talking to them about what was happening. We didn't show them the TV, because we still didn't know exactly what was going on.
We had quite a few kids whose parents were in the army. Their moms and dads came to pick them up during the morning in case their parents' were mobilized.
We had a staff meeting at lunchtime and were given information to share with our kids after lunch, when we had emergency homeroom meetings. I remember thinking that I barely knew these kids (school had only be in for two weeks) and feeling inadequate to know how to make them feel less scared.
That night I went to my favorite restaurant with some friends and we watched Bush's address there (I remember feeling very uncertain about him after that address, because we still didn't know him very well then either...I really wished Clinton was still president at the time, because he always seemed so calm in a crisis. I don't blame Bush now for seeming scared, but I felt more scared after watching his speech...nothing to do with disliking him...just being nervous... I felt better about him later).
What I most remember was the silence of the day. How people seemed to speak in whispers. I also remember a lot of the Churches in the area had their doors flung open all day - which is very strange for around here.
Meant to add..I saw both buildings fall on the TV set in the library. It was just surreal and horrifying. Like a movie had come to life. It just didn't seem real.
CONTINUED IN NEXT POST...
That kind of ignorance or indifference to this date still has me stunned, months after hearing that story. I noticed that the History Channel has 9/11 documentaries running all day today, but each year the attention given to this date seems to noticeably decrease. And so, every year I have a personal tradition of posting the stories people have shared with me of their recollections of September 11th.
I’m not looking for your opinion of 9/11 now; I’m interested in what that moment in time was like for you then. What were you thinking? What were you doing? How did it impact you personally? How significant is that date to you now, nearly a decade later?
Remember the flags that everyone seemed to have out? Remember the mini-flag poles you could buy to attach a flag to your car window? Remember when everyone would applaud their cops, police, firefighters and soldiers upon each random encounter? Remember how angry and afraid we all were? Remember how the news was pre-empting every show for days, with those scrolling tickers at the bottom listing HUGE estimates of the death toll?
At least, that’s some of what I remember. I’d like to know what others remember feeling and thinking and doing on that day and those that followed.
In each case, those who have shared their stories gave me permission to include them in my annual re-post. However, if I’ve neglected to get your permission or if you would rather not have your story included in this, please let me know and I will delete yours immediately.
And if you haven’t yet shared your story - or if you have, but you’ve got a new perspective on things now, years after originally replying to me - please share your story here, too. If you don’t want me to include your recollections in next year’s recap, please let me know when you post.
To jog your memory of how you felt back then, there’s a great archive of 9/11 photography, and within that I found this flash show. Turn down the music if you're not one to like having emotional chains yanked (especially since the songs have nothing to do with this tragedy), but the pictures are good. What really stood out to me, though, were the figures. Remember when we expected 10,000 to be dead? Or 20,000? One of the things I find most amazing about that horrible day is how much worse off it could have been. Thank God for that.
Here is the first set of September 11th memories:
gioiamia's story:
I was pregnant with my daughter at that time and not sleeping well. I was still in bed when my mother called and woke me up, telling me to get to the TV fast. I turned on the TV just after the 2nd tower was hit. I remember the look on my husband's face as we watched the towers fall; he looked just as shell-shocked as I felt.
I reluctantly got ready for work and drove out to my office in the suburbs of Chicago. By this time, downtown Chicago was evacuating. The traffic was wretched as everyone fled in obvious panic. When I got to work I remember the phone ringing all day from entertainers, politicians and VIPs who were stranded and expected me to be able to find them a way home. When I called my local Enterprise office for one such VIP, the agent said immediately, "Joia, don't even ask - there's not a car left in the city." It wasn't even noon at that point.
I didn't know anyone in NY or D.C., but I had just flown my staff back from an event in New York the day before. They were originally scheduled to spend Sept. 11th in meetings with our client in Manhattan, but decided to come back early on Sept. 10th. Had I not been pregnant, I would've been with them. As it was, I didn't make it back to NY till the next year, around August 2002. I got to see Ground Zero and the memorials that were still on the fences. My son (then age 7-1/2) was with me and has talked ever since about what an amazing thing that makeshift memorial was.
angelicus' story:
I don't know how to explain the surrealness of mourning someone you loved when an entire nation is mourning right there with you. I can't really tell you what I remember about that day. It's all a blur. But one thing's for sure. I'll never be allowed to forget it. I'll never be able to turn on a TV this time of year without seeing it over and over and over again. Like a never-ending, yearly nightmare that I know is coming. Every time they show the debris that we all know isn't really debris, every time I see those buildings fall, I have to see her die all over again. It makes my stomach turn to know that every year for the rest of my life, I will have a public home movie by which to remember Sarah's death. It took me 5 years to realize this. And it kinda sucks.
cookie2697's story:
It's weird today because I've been acutely aware of the anniversary all day today, yet it hasn't been in my face too much. Maybe perhaps because I was out of town this weekend and haven't been watching much TV or reading the newspapers? I don't know. It's very strange how quiet this year has felt to me.
But regardless
Very few people I know on the west coast actually saw the events of 9/11 happen live. Mostly because it was still early on the East Coast...I recall that it was around 6am in California when the first plane hit the tower.
I was still going to DVC at the time, as I have been a lot over the past 7 years of my life, and that semester happened to be one in which I had an 8am class. I think it might have been the ONLY 8am class that I had the entire time I went to that school. But regardless, I was up at 6am that day.
I've always been a routine oriented person, and 9/11 was right in the heart of Roswell obsession time for me. I think I was still admining at Fanatics at the time, and I checked the site about 100 times a day at that point in time. So my morning routine included computer time. I remember that morning, my alarm went off at 6amish, and I immediately stumbled downstairs to boot up the computer. My dad works nights, and comes home around that time, usually having breakfast and watching morning news, and I remember when I stumbled downstairs, I was aware that there was a big news story on, but I didn't process it. Just flipped on the computer to boot, and stumbled back upstairs to shower and get dressed.
I came back down around 6:30 and I never made it back to the computer. After showering, I was coherent, and this time I realized what I saw on the TV - the twin towers smoking. I sat down with my dad and I couldn't pull my eyes away from the TV.
The thing I remember the most clearly was watching live as the first tower collapsed. I think it was literally one of the most terrifying and disturbing things I've ever seen in my life. I think we had CNN on - I'm not sure. We might have been flipping between channels. But whatever channel was on, the camera was live on a female reporter on the street below the towers. All of a sudden smoke filled the screen, and the woman disappeared. And all we could hear was her screaming - loud, terrifying, REAL, bloodcurdling screams. Live. On the news. That moment has always stayed with me, and I've always noticed that as they replayed news footage from that morning over the course of the next week, no one EVER replayed that moment. And I'm thankful for that, because it's not something I'd want to relive.
It didn't even occur to me NOT to go to school. I've had people later be surprised that I went, but I dunno...it just didn't occur to me. I got in my car, flipped on the news on the radio, and I honestly believe it's the only time in my life that I ever listened to the news on my way to school. I was just terrified and I wanted to have all the information.
It was right when I pulled into the parking lot at school that the 2nd tower collapsed.
I walked into class that morning - I was taking HTML - and it was oddly quiet as people came in and sat down. The teacher took roll, and immediately afterwards, a girl in my class raised her hand and asked the teacher if we could talk about what was going on. The teacher looked at her, rolled his eyes, and said in the horrible, nasally, snotty voice, "Oh, we're not going to waste time talking about THAT." At least 5 people in the classroom sat up straighter and asked what she was talking about. There were people in the room that didn't even know what was happening yet, and my teacher wouldn't let us speak another word about it. I lost all respect for that teacher that day. And I'm pretty sure I ended up dropping the class in the end.
After that things are rather a blur. I remember hearing rumors left and right that there were still runaway planes in the sky. I remember going to the computer lab, checking Fanatics, and talking to people about what they'd heard. I also remember that I felt like I was getting no real information from the news websites. I don't remember going to another class that day. Maybe I skipped it to stay in the computer lab? I'm not sure. But I remember coming home and watching the news with my Mom all afternoon.
Early evening hit, and I couldn't take it all anymore. There was no new information coming out. Everything on the news was repetitive. So I decided to go out. I drove out to Fremont to meet up with a couple of camp friends who I was spending a lot of time with that month. I remember that we wanted to be outside, so we went to this park in Fremont, and climbed to the top of the play structure, where we lay back and stared at the stars. They smoked, and I just kept staring at the stars. I remember seeing a plane go over, and it chilled me to the bone, because I knew that all planes had been grounded. Later I realized it was probably a military plane watching the bridges.
And that was my 9/11. I remember more than anything being so happy that I didn't have to work that day. I can't imagine what it would have been like to be stuck behind a counter in a drug store while all of that was going down. *shudder*
janajoh's story:
In August 2001, my brother died. It was a horribly tragic and completely unexpected death. He was 20. I grieve for him still, even more so than any other death I have experienced since I turned 16.
I was still involved with the UT Band. We would be traveling to Gainesville for the UT vs. Florida game. The last time I went out of town, my brother died (Hubby and I had traveled to Memphis to visit my m-i-l); I was scared out of my mind that if I went to Florida, Hubby or someone else would die. I should also mention I was having dreams about my brother so I hadn't been sleeping well.
Anyway, Hubby called me at work when the first plane hit. He kept asking if we had a television in the office because we really needed to watch it. One of the ladies I worked with had her radio tuned to the local country station; she said there had been an air traffic accident. When the second plane hit, Hubby called once again, saying it was intentional. We listened by the radio for the next couple of hours.
When I got home that night, I was glued to CNN. To see the planes, to watch the towers fall, it was too fresh for my already-debilitating grief. All those families left behind. I could completely relate.
On Thursday afternoon, I loaded a bus to drive to Jacksonville. The UT Band never stayed in Gainesville (where the U of F campus is) -- but as soon as I stepped onto the bus, I knew I didn't want to go. Someone successfully talked the SEC commission into postponing all of the weekend's games. I headed back to my car and headed home. I think I cried all the way there.
Not to minimize anything any of those directly involved with 9/11, but it opened the floodgates for me and my own personal grief. I could begin to function as a normal human again instead of going through the motions of my life. I didn't understand why (still don't) but I began to accept I couldn't wave my magic wand and bring my brother back.
mockingbird39's story:
I was in Boston when the planes hit the towers, working downtown at a big firm that has offices on the 38th floor of a State Street building. I was already at work when it happened, sitting in my office with the door shut because I had a huge overseas conference call coming up and my assistant used to like to come in and complain to me about his boyfriend first thing in the morning. I was NOT in the mood to deal with it that day. A month earlier I had been in New York to visit a client who had an office in one of the Towers, and had also gotten to see a very close friend of mine from college who worked in the same building. I remember thinking she had the most amazing view and wondering if the client I had visited needed any new staff.
A little before nine, my assistant came in while I was on the phone with my boss. He waved through the window and sat down at his desk. A few minutes later, I saw him run down the hallway toward the conference room. Not thirty seconds later, my boss said, "Oh my god. Are you sure?" He told me to go to the conference room, so I did and got there to find the big TV tuned to CNN, which was showing live feed of the second tower with a big, smoking hole in it. The image was so surreal that at first I didn't realize it had hit midway up the structure. Smoke obscured a lot of the top, so it was hard to tell how bad it was. I also didn't realize that both towers had been hit by then, and that you couldn't see the first tower because of the angle of the camera and also because of the smoke.
Someone said, "A plane just crashed into the World Trade Center in New York." I remembered hearing about a small plane crash like that years ago, and my first thought was that I wondered how you could accidentally fly your plane right into the center of the Tower like that. I could understand sort of clipping it with a wing, but the center? It didn't occur to me that it wasn't an accident. Someone else said, "Don't we have clients in that building?" and I realized that I had been right there in that building, not a month before, and now it was smoking and crumbling like something out of a disaster movie. It was a second or two before I realized that I also had a friend in that building, and that another friend's brother worked there, too. But my brain didn't really process that information until later.
Instead, I remembered that I had a conference call that afternoon and still didn't have my budget spread sheets, and I spent a couple of minutes annoyed that my assistant was standing there in front of the TV and not printing my spread sheets. It was so stupid, and yet I fixated on it right up until they started showing footage of the people on the ground running from the scene.
Since the planes had come from Boston and because we were in a big bank building right next to City Hall, the evacuation announcements came pretty quickly. One minute it was, "Leave if you want to," and the next minute it was, "Everyone out -- now." I remember going down to the Red Line train and no one was saying anything except the T officials, who were repeating, "Come on through, come on through," in a monotone. The woman in front of me kept trying to give them her token, not understanding that they had thrown open the turnstiles and gates to get everyone out as quickly as possible. I felt relatively safe on the train, right up until we went above ground to cross the bridge over the Charles. We stopped at that stop to let more people on, and all of a sudden I felt so utterly exposed and vulnerable.
When I got to Harvard Square, I looked up at the sky and it was such a perfect, clear, crisp blue that I thought there had to be a mistake. I thought for sure that we had all overreacted and that I'd find out later everyone had gone back to work and I was behind. It was just too peaceful for something of that magnitude to have happened. At home my roommates and I sat around watching TV with our cell phones in our hands. Later that night, one of my roommates and I walked up the hill to the Catholic church. I don't remember actually making the decision; we just went. We couldn't think of anywhere else to go.
The next couple of days are kind of vague in my mind, except that I remember talking on the phone a lot. Everyone started calling to check in and find out who else we'd all been in touch with. It was actually kind of pleasant. I talked to people that I didn't hear from a lot, and caught up on a lot of things I'd missed. That first night -- and into the next couple of days -- I convinced myself that my friend in the Towers had gotten out, or that she hadn't been in there at all. When they gave the official times of the crashes, I was certain. Katie was never early for work. She wouldn't have gotten there before nine. No way. I waited for her to call me, I tried calling her, and I asked all our friends if they'd heard from her. I figured she was just in shock, or that the phones were really down. But after a couple of days when no one had heard from her and her voice mail box was still full it didn't look right. I didn't really want to talk to any of our mutual friends then because I didn't want to hear any of them say it. I avoided pretty much everyone who knew her until late the next week when I got a message that she'd sent an e-mail from her work account to her sister-in-law at 8:30 that morning.
It's been five years and there are days that I still can't process what happened that morning. Every month on the 11th, I sit and silently calculate how many months it's been since it happened. When the movies about Flight 93 and the Towers started to come out, I was angry that Hollywood thought they had to retell that story so quickly. I don't need anyone to remind me of what happened. I think about it every time I pass a firehouse, or when the clock hits 9:11 or when I plan a party or reunion or even a mass e-mail that doesn't include my friend Katie. Part of me is afraid that when people see it on the big screen it will become less real to them, that they'll start picturing the actors who play the characters instead of the people who lived the stories. At the same time, I know that there are some people who have a hard time connecting to what happened. If seeing the Hollywood version gives it a face they can remember and relate to, I guess it's a good thing. All I know is, it's too soon for me. I know that it's been five years, but yesterday it felt like a few weeks or even a few days. Today I have some space again, and that's probably why I was able to write all this down.
For all my interest in WWII and my history geek-ness, December 7 is just another day. I wonder if I'll ever feel that way about September 11.
muffinkath7's story:
I didn't find out until I got to work at 8:25ish my time. I was listening to a CD in the car, so didn't hear it on the radio. I think both planes had gone into the building at that point. A teaching assistant (one I hated, which I strangely still remember now) came out of the office and told me. I just sort of shrugged it off, thinking that he was a moron - that it had obviously been some kind of accident. Then I heard it from a few other people, and it began to sink in what was happening.
Our school is right on the flight path for the airport. We heard planes landing in Winnipeg all morning. Our librarian set up a TV in the library. My kids happened to be in there on a library orientation, so the librarian and I just ended up talking to them about what was happening. We didn't show them the TV, because we still didn't know exactly what was going on.
We had quite a few kids whose parents were in the army. Their moms and dads came to pick them up during the morning in case their parents' were mobilized.
We had a staff meeting at lunchtime and were given information to share with our kids after lunch, when we had emergency homeroom meetings. I remember thinking that I barely knew these kids (school had only be in for two weeks) and feeling inadequate to know how to make them feel less scared.
That night I went to my favorite restaurant with some friends and we watched Bush's address there (I remember feeling very uncertain about him after that address, because we still didn't know him very well then either...I really wished Clinton was still president at the time, because he always seemed so calm in a crisis. I don't blame Bush now for seeming scared, but I felt more scared after watching his speech...nothing to do with disliking him...just being nervous... I felt better about him later).
What I most remember was the silence of the day. How people seemed to speak in whispers. I also remember a lot of the Churches in the area had their doors flung open all day - which is very strange for around here.
Meant to add..I saw both buildings fall on the TV set in the library. It was just surreal and horrifying. Like a movie had come to life. It just didn't seem real.
CONTINUED IN NEXT POST...