Six years ago today, Nathan started his second year of pre-school. All of us moms were so happy to be dropping our kids off. Even if we only had a few hours to ourselves with our younger children. I went home and cleaned a bit. Thought about some dinner. Hoped Aaron would sleep longer. Sent a few e-mails, went to pick Nathan up. The rest of the day played out as usual: lunch, nap, movie for Nathan, read some books, make dinner as I tried to keep Aaron quiet, bathtime, bedtime.
The next morning was about the same. I left Aaron in the van sleeping in our garage with the monitor on. I went to the computer and sent a few e-mails, looked up some information. My Dad called and told me to put the TV on. I didn't believe what I was seeing nor what he was telling me. I remember the disbelief, the "no, this isn't happening," the feeling that my Dad got it wrong. And then I saw the second tower fall. And the news of the Pentagon. And more news of the plane down near Pittsburgh. I couldn't watch enough. I'd mute the TV and watch the words and not know what to think. I sat in front of the TV most of the rest of that week with Aaron on my lap, barely able to do what needed to be done. I also needed to listen to the news radio stations. All the time. I did get to a point where the info wasn't helping. Enough. So I turned it all off. I recall that Jay's first trip on a plane after that was to go to Cleveland. Somehow that made that business trip OK. Although two weeks after the towers fell, Jay was in NYC. I'll let him tell that.
The day after that day was so sad. Not understanding why. Seeing the episode of The West Wing where they tried to make some sense out of the hatred felt for America. Watching the music tribute held at an undisclosed location for protection. Listening to raw, emotional and real music and actors in between. Wanting it not to be real. Wishing for the day before that day again. Knowing it would never be the same. Realizing how insidious their hatred is. Wondering when next they will hit.
We lived in the Boston area then. It was heartbreaking to see armed military men walking around the Boston Aquarium. Protection around the bay. That image stays with me. An armed state. Necessary but scary. Even these six years later, I feel sad at where we've come. The lives lost in war. I really thought by now this war would be over. Peace would have been established. A package with a ribbon on it. It would have been nice.
The other thing about living near Boston was that we were only two hours from NYC. It's a neighbor city. I thought that if they'd hit NYC, surely they'd hit Boston, too. What did come to Boston was that Richard guy who put a bomb in his shoe. We can thank him that when we travel, we all have to remove our shoes. And only bring 4-ozs. of liquids. Never take a bottle of sealed water through security. And usually deal with someone crabby in the security line.
Now my blog is probably on some "list" because I'm talking about this stuff. Oh well. I'm just a woman who lived through a lousy time and is remembering.
Tell about your day before, day of and day after. What did you take away from that experience?
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Here's my story - I have absolutely no recollection of 9/10/01. It was Monday, I went to work.
I absolutely remember 9/11/01. I was listening to the radio as I pulled into the garage at work. Just as I was parking, one of the afternoon DJs called into the radio station I was listening to and said a plane flew into the World Trade Center. Not being sure if this was serious or not (you never know with morning radio), I went into the office and found someone with their computer on. I asked them to go to CNN to look and sure enough, there were pictures of the first tower with smoke pouring out. Horrible accident was my first thought, but a few minutes later someone got a call and said the other tower was hit. OK - no accident. Everyone gathered around the TV in the lunch room and we watched it all unfold...
I happen to know lots of people in NYC. I've spent a fair amount of time in the WTC towers, ate at the restaraunt on the top floor, spent a day in a conference room on the 96th floor with a gorgeous view looking uptown toward the Empire State Building and past it to Central Park - a million dollar view. All gone. And I actually could have been in the building that day - I had a conference call scheduled at 10am with a company on the 40th floor - I could just as easily have been there...
The day after was numb. Nothing but numb.
But as Nancy said, I was at ground zero 2 weeks later (9/25/01). I had taken the train down to the city (because flying from Boston to NYC would have taken way too long with the crazy security). I went down to ground zero. There are many things I'll never forget, but here are a few of them:
1. There were no edges to the picture. I'm sure this is true with all of the various tragedies like post-Katrina New Orleans, but when you see pictures on TV or in print media, there are edges and the pictures are contained. The reality had no edges. There was concrete dust 20 stories up the sides of the buildings. I was standing on Broadway facing the site and the store front behind me was filled with rubble.
2. There were pieces of the WTC facade sticking out of the World Financial Center buildings that stood near where the towers were. I never saw that in any of the pictures or video. Just more evidence of the scale of it all, I guess.
3. Two weeks later and there was still smoke. And when I was there, the large piece of the WTC facade was still leaning over the huge rubble pile - they pulled it down later that day.
4. New York City was quiet. That's probably the strangest thing of all. I've spent a lot of time in NYC and it's a loud, kinetic city. During that time, the city was eerily quiet. People just stood and stared - not just downtown at ground zero, but in Penn Station, in Time Square, everywhere I went. Understandable, but unnerving.
That's enough of the past. I won't forget. I'm not sure I can, but I'm not sure I want to, either.
Ben had his first day of preschool at the Montessori school on the 10th. On the 11th we were watching "Sagwa" on PBS, having *just* turned the channel from CNN at 8:30am. Turned the channel back to news at 9am and oh man.
The President was giving a brief address and I yelled to my husband, "Why does he assume that it's a terrorist attack? It could have just been-" and then the news of the second plane was broadcast, and I realized it was all really, well, *real*.
My dad called soon after. Of all places, he'd been at a military location with a bunch of top AF generals. At 6:46am central time every single general's cell phone/pager went off--simultaneously. They all immediately left the room and then within a minute CNN, on the tv, showed the first crash.
Dad called because he knew my husband flew Boston to DC for work fairly often. Thank whatever deity you wish that he wasn't on a plane that day.
I, too, stared at the tv until I was overloaded. Ben was 2 years, 10 months old and rode his tricycle past the tv (yes, he rode a tricycle in our big old federal foursquare house!) and said, "No more planes" and turned it off. In the later months he would ask for tall boxes and a chop stick. He would--at barely 3--tape the chopstick to the top of the box, draw as many windows on the box as he could, and then crash toy planes into it. Over and over and over. It never failed to make me cry.
I was 11 weeks pregnant on September 11, and I remember wondering what life would be like in 29 weeks. I later learned a good friend from high school gave birth on September 11--the labor and delivery ward blocked the television from all delivering mothers. She didn't know until long after the crashes, once she'd given birth, been cleaned up, and transfered to post-partum care. Her husband finally told her. I can't imagine giving birth and then watching that unfold on tv.
In the ensuing weeks I learned that one high school classmate was in the Pentagon when the plane hit--but got out. Another was one of a handful of people ABOVE one of the plane crashes who got out. That's my only personal connection, and I'm thankful it's so light, and so mournful for those who have stronger connections to the devastation.
I don’t remember anything about 9-10-01 – it was just another day… But the next day… September 11, 2001 is a day I want to forget, but at the same time don’t ever want to forget. Nancy is right that hatred is insidious and it’s still hard to believe people in other parts of the world hate us so much.
Anyway, on Sept. 11 I was at the outplacement office attending the first of two parts of an orientation program. I had just gotten laid off from Mercy Health Partners the week before, so I was in the early stages of a job search after only a month on the new job.
As we were in the conference room, someone in the office popped her head in the door and told us about the first plane. We took a quick 2-minute break and went back to business. When the office person cam in and told us about the second plane, we all made the decision to stop for the day and go home. Before we left we gathered around the tiny black & white TV next to the lobby and watched the towers fall. We pretty much took that as a cue and left… Then I drove home. I was numb and overwhelmed by all of my emotions and very, very sad. I watched TV all day – I couldn’t look away. After I called everyone in my family (and friends), all I could do was sit and watch the news. I don’t think I stopped crying for a couple days. I still tear up thinking about it and get choked up hearing the National Anthem.
One thing I remember clearly that day is that Mom couldn’t get a hold of Jay. The person who answered the phone at his office couldn’t find him, which Mom took the wrong way. Since phone lines were going out, I was able to talk to Nancy, who told me Jay was OK and at the office in Boston. That feeling of uncertainty and fear stuck with me, though, and despite the relief that my family was OK, I couldn’t shake the feeling.
In addition, my friend Doug Cherry had a son who died in NYC that day. The son, Doug, Jr., was able to get out of the WTC, but didn’t survive the towers falling. My friend Doug, Sr. was never the same. I watched what he and his family went through trying to get back to normal. My friend has since passed away, and I think it was somehow, partially, due to a broken heart.
In these past several years since 2001, I still have a hard time watching the news about terrorist attacks, wherever they occur. I am very, very sad that so many of our young men and women are being killed/dying in a war I sincerely doubt we can win (if there even is such a thing). And even though I’m inconvenienced at the airport with all the new rules and taking off shoes, etc., I’m more upset that I have to be constantly on the lookout for suspicious behavior. Feeling like I have to look over my shoulder is something I never felt before 9/11. And I feel so much more jaded, knowing that things will never be the same.
Jay’s comments about New York City really hit me hard. I haven’t been there since Kathi graduated in 1992, and I can’t imagine the city without the towers. I didn’t know Jay had a meeting in NYC that day, though, which I am glad I didn’t know.
Overall, I hope people are healing, or continuing to heal. And I hope we, as Americans, are stronger than ever.
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