Despite my Jack Handy reference, I feel a need to have a serious post.
Yesterday, I spent most of the day thinking I was too busy to commerate the 9/11 anniversary. Sure, I heard the echos of the tributes in the Sunday sermon, NPR, at the football games, and on Facebook posts...but I was too distracted to soak it all in. That is, until I turned on the TV last night.
I caught a documentary I had seen back in 2001 - the one where the camera crew was actually in the towers that day, intending to document the life of FDNY fireman throughout a 9 month period. It took me a while to realize I had already seen it. I can't believe that I could even forget it. But somehow I did.
And that made me worry a little bit. How could that day seem like yesterday but at the same time seem so hazy to me? Then I started to reflect again on my personal experience with the day...and I realized how much I forgot about what I actually lived through.
So, in the interest of this blog being a way for me to remember - and for my kids to know their past - I figured I'd document what I experienced that day - in my past. At least before I forget even more.
We had been married for barely two months, and I hadn't yet been a full year at my job. I remember the exact spot I heard the first reports - in my car, driving down Pennsylvania, not quite to my office in downtown Indianapolis. I was listening to Bob & Tom, when Tom announced the news that a plane had hit one of the World Trade Center towers. Bob and Tom are never serious, so the tone made me realize quickly that something wasn't quite right. Nevertheless, it was one of those moments where, yeah, I was sad for those people in lower Manhattan, but it seemed like just another far-off news story.
After that my memory starts to fail me. I actually had to look up the times when everything occured to see how it paired with what I remember. So, the following is really my best guess. As I've been listening to the recounts this anniversary week, I've been wondering why I was so late to work. It was 8:48, after all, and I was still a newbie who arrived on time. It wasn't until today that I realized that Indiana was still on Central time.
When I got to my office on the 12th floor, the TVs were on as usual. Instead of market news on CNBC, the news coverage was on. I used to park about 4 blocks away to save money, so I can only assume that by the time I arrived, they were reporting that the second plane had already hit.
I checked some e-mails and thankfully received one from a friend who lived nearby. She was safe, but could see the smoke from her apartment. It was around this time that I remember hearing all the reports of people jumping from dozens of floors up. Yes, I was only on Floor 12, but that was still way higher than I wanted to be at that point. I wondered why my coworkers weren't more freaked out and was glad when I convinced at least one woman to join me in the coffee shop downstairs...on the ground floor at least.
The TV was on in the coffee shop. I'm not sure whether it was there that I heard about the Pentagon or if it was the tower collapse or both. Either way, it was enough to make me want to get the hell out of downtown. My coworker went back upstairs, but I told her that I was going home. I didn't care if I had work to do or not - I had a feeling that no work was going to be happening for anyone anyway.
By the time I logged in to my work e-mail from home, they had decided to let all of my coworkers leave. I was also able to exhale a little after hearing back from another friend who lived in Tribeca. She saw the first plane crash from her bedroom window. At that point, we had grown apart as friends, it was still numbing to me to think about my childhood friend in the middle of all of that, unable to even go back to her home for days. I still have the e-mails saved, even though we haven't corrsponded in years. She wrote to me in the coming weeks about returning to an empty neighborhood, except the National Guard troops and her authorized neighbors. A few weeks later, she told me about all the work it took to clean up dust from her floors, furniture, and clothes from when the towers fell.
I spent the rest of the day planted in front of the TV. By the time Jason got home from school, I felt like I had to get out and do something. I gave him the choice - go give blood or go to church. Thanks to his fear of blood and needles, we ended up at Our Lady of Mount Carmel that evening.
So, kids, that's where I was. Over the next ten years, I'm sure my memories will fade more. I'll look back on this antiquated medium called a blog and be thankful that I can at least have something to tell my 13 and 10 year old boys.
And I'll remember.
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1 comment:
My dear grandchildren,
I also want to add to your mom's history. Ten years ago, I never realised that I would have grandchildren and love them so much.
I was teaching fifth grade in Marion, Ohio. I took my class to gym class and was talking to another teacher. She told me that a plane had just hit the World Trade Center. In my ignorance early that day, my comment was "was anyone killed?" We went to the office and listened to the day unfold on the radio. I truly believed that this was the end for all of us. We decided not to tell the children, but parents began coming in to pick up their kids and the news leaked out. I remember picking them up and just shutting the classroom door. They began asking questions and I tried to answer them as gently and honestly as I could. One little special needs girl asked me if I would protect them and I knew at that moment that I would protect them with my life. They had only been my students for a few weeks. We did chuckle a little when she asked me what I would do and I said " I will put the coat cupboard up against the door and then put my big old butt against it!" She went around telling people that for weeks after, but I meant it. I decided that we would watch movies for the rest of the day since life looked so grim.
My own children were scattered over two states and started calling. Your mom seemed the most upset, since she had a good grip on the seriousness of it. Aunt Kat was at Wright State, next to the military base, and I told her to drive home. Aunt KK was in Cincinnati and the boys were in High School. Papa was home asleep after working all night. I was really afraid that we wouldnt all be together at the end.
After school, I went directly to St. Mary's Catholic Church and stayed on my knees until I had prayed for everyone involved. I didnt watch much of it on TV then or since because it is so painful and horrific.
I pray that you will never experience this in your lifetime, but I would be naive to think that. Just know that you are strong...come from strong and resilent people, are loved as much as any children have ever been loved, and you will prosper due to the grace of God
Love you always!
Nana
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