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I rarely do personal posts, as you probably know, but the anniversary of 9/11, and the fact that I have written some 9/11 stories, has me extra thoughtful.
Due to the sensitive nature of the event, I’ll continue this under the cut.
I’ve lived in the Washington, DC area since I came here to college. For many years I lived in Arlington and Alexandria, two close-in suburbs.
In August 2001, some friends and I planned a trip to California. I was working with two of the actors on a Daytime TV show, working on the staff of their fan clubs. A set tour of that show had been arranged, another favorite actor was doing a play, and one of the folks we worked with was in a musical as well. The timing was perfect to do a great deal of things in a short time.
The trip ended up being not as ideal as expected. From the sketchy hotel, which two of us had to move from …well, it was a lot of frustration.
The plays were fantastic, the set tour amazing, the actors great, but there were other factors that made parts of the trip incredibly annoying. We did, however, get to see a taping of Family Feud with a then-unknown Keith Urban, The Dixie Chicks, and Buck Owen against the Muppets. From a technical standpoint, it was so interesting. From a personal standpoint, I adored this blond Aussie. He came into the audience and he and I chit-chatted a bit. A few folks (a couple in my group) talked to the sisters from the Dixie Chicks, and really liked them.
Anyway…
On Sunday, 9/9, we were at a coffee shop across the street from our hotel when what felt like a truck rattled by. Everyone in line yelled “Quake” and there was a fair bit of nervousness. The quake was centered less than a quarter mile away and really rattled me. I remember talking with my then-fiancé, who was in Australia, and telling him how I just wanted to be home with my kitties, that parts of the trip had been great, but I was done traveling. I kept saying “at least when we get home, there will be nothing to worry about.” Meaning the quake. How wrong could I be?
We flew on American Airlines flight 76 from LAX to Washington, Dulles on 9/10/2001. Due to some snafus, when we got home, we were fairly wiped out. It was about 7 pm, and roommate and I had to decide if we wanted to get our cats from the borders or not. We opted to do so—smart idea.
We had a wonderful crew on the flight, and I remember asking one of the in-flight cabin crew members how to best extend my thanks, so that they might get recognition that would go in their file. She suggested writing to American directly, but took my comments on and gave me a beautiful smile. I later learned she (and some of the other flight crew) died at the Pentagon.
We were at this point living at a corner unit of an 8-floor high rise, southeastern exposure, gorgeous floor to ceiling windows. We were on the 7th floor. We means me…and the roommate, and the two cats. Roommate is a sweetheart, but she has Asperergers and doesn’t deal well with any chaos. At all. Some of the events of the trip, including her almost accidentally being dragged by a car had shaken her up deeply. As a result, I suggested she stay home from work the next day.
She declined.
At the time, I’d been working nights, though the combination of West Coast time, travel, getting the cats, getting settled back home, etc. had me pretty tired, and I crashed hard and early, from like 8Pm-midnight.
As I mentioned before, my then-fiancé was in Australia. After he finished his workday, mine would usually be winding down, so we’d use a voice over IP predecessor to Skype called Netmeeting to chat verbally over the net. For hours sometimes! He got online about 3am, and we chit chatted through his evening.
At about 7 am, the subject of where do we live came up. Again. He has four children, then teens, in Australia, and while I have a mom and stepdad here, I didn’t have as many ties. So the choice should have been easy, right? Wrong. He was contracting at the time, but the job market had tanked in early 2001 in Australia, and we were *very* concerned that he wouldn’t be able to get a well-paying job in his field. There was just nothing out there…
So we debated—bickered really—and by about 8:30 I said we ought to wind it down. Roommate was on her way to work, I was getting ready to go lie down for a few hours, and we might as well relax for a bit.
I’m very ADD and I can rarely do one thing at a time, so I flipped the TV on. I ended up on the Today show and was puttering around my small apartment, headset mic on a one-hundred foot cable. I made a snack and came back to the TV to see…
I was SURE it was a movie review. It was that time in the morning programs where they do their entertainment segments. I didn’t pay a lot of attention at first. Then something in the announcer’s voice, some thread, grabbed me over my fiancé’s voice and I asked him to be quiet. It was then we saw the aerial view of the second plane hitting. It was at a distance…but oh, you could tell it was a jet.
I managed to tell him what was going on and he turned on his TV, but of course there was nothing there. Yet. He was loading websites to see what could be found while I was piecing together that not one, but two, planes had hit the WTC, the same buildings I’d pointed out to him as landmarks when we drove past them on his trip to America a few months earlier.
We knew it was a terrorist attack, but had no idea what we should do. He was monitoring online feeds, I was seeing what the TV said. I was pacing back and forth in my apartment. At one point, I went into my bedroom and noticed a plane was flying very low over 395. My apartment complex was right off 395, which is a major highway into DC from Virginia.
Anyway, I made a mental note of it, thought it was strange, resumed pacing. About…maybe ten, fifteen minutes later, there was a sound in his voice, a sound I *never* hope to hear again. He told me to go into my bedroom. “Don’t scream, love. Just tell me what you see.”
I stood there in shock, tears pouring down my face, hugging one of my cats and trying not to scream into her fur, watching the Pentagon, a couple miles away, burning. It was the most horrifying moment of my life. If I hadn’t had him to anchor me, I have no idea what I would have done in that moment.
I never felt or heard the explosion, but other folks in my building did. I suppose with the TV and future DH’s voice in my ear, I just missed it. I’m so glad I did!
The rest of the day passed, parts of it in a blur, parts in too bright contrast. Phone service in DC was jammed, so future DH was tasked with calling my family and letting them know that I’d arrived home safely the night before. That was I shaken, but okay.
He also got in touch with roommate, who had no idea what had happened. She was the only English speaker at the time in her office, and only knew a few phrases in Vietnamese, not enough to piece together what was happening. She left for home at about ten am and actually arrived home at just before midnight. She ended up having to walk most of the fifteen mile route.
Future DH stayed with me all day. We watched the towers fall together from across the world, sobbing together. We opened up a chatroom that was a curious blend of science fiction authors from the BAEN bar (John Ringo and David Weber were there for a bit), soap opera fans, local friends, even future DH’s ex wife. We got the word out far and wide and people from all walks of life were there.
We all comforted each other, just by our presence together. Ideologically, and even physically, we were worlds apart, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. We were human, we were hurting together.
I’d keep wandering into the bedroom, watching the fire, wishing I could physically speak with friends and family. I watched the cars crawling past on 395, knowing those people wanted to be home with their loved ones. I worried about roommate, who didn’t have a cell phone, even though I know we couldn’t have reached her anyway.
I worried so much about friends in the Pentagon and WTC. Some were okay by miraculous means. Ani should have died in the Pentagon, but she was just late enough for work that she was on 395 when the plane hit. James’ son had a toothache and he was late to work at WTC1. Some folks were delayed because of the primary voting. Others…it was just fate.
And I lost some very dear friends in New York. I think about them a lot and know the world is a sadder place without them.
One of my most enduring memories of that day was chatting with three friends late that night (or possibly into the wee hours of 9/12). Kerri was a resident advisor at NYU. Amanda was a retail associate living in Indiana, and Brandy was a reporter in Houston. All three were just as terrified about what might come as I was. We were literally spread across the country and we all felt just as vulnerable.
Another enduring memory was me going onto the balcony that evening and looking out into the skies. The silence was astounding. No planes were overhead, though later we had fighter jet patrols. The airspace had been locked down. Then I heard the thump of helicopter rotors, many of them. They’d started the patrols around DC. Some of the copters hovered so close to my apartment that I could see the pilots’ faces.
A few days later, I went to the Pentagon City mall with some friends. We parked in the concrete parking garage that overlooked the Pentagon and just hugged each other and sobbed.
A couple of months later, my husband and I were married. He came over here to just be with me for a little bit, as his contract had ended, and we realized life was just too short to argue about the smaller things. We talked to a lawyer to discuss immigration options, told my family and his on a Sunday that we were being married on a Thursday, and did it, just us, roommate, Amanda from Indiana, who had temporarily moved in with us, and a justice of the peace.
The very next day we went up to New York. I had some work things to do, but that Saturday night, we went to Ground Zero, brought the workers coffee, spent about an hour there crying, comforting, being comforted by strangers. It was the strangest feeling of abject horror and uplifting humanity in that darkness.
We were set to leave New York that Monday, Veteran’s Day, two months after the attack, when the city was locked down. A plane had crashed and there were serious fears that it was another terror attack. I remember sitting in a hotel room, about ten of us, feeling like we were going through this all over again. And again being comforted by the presence of others.
9/11 changed so much in all of us. I wish all of you peace now, and always.
Thanks so much for taking the time to read this!
TG
Due to the sensitive nature of the event, I’ll continue this under the cut.
I’ve lived in the Washington, DC area since I came here to college. For many years I lived in Arlington and Alexandria, two close-in suburbs.
In August 2001, some friends and I planned a trip to California. I was working with two of the actors on a Daytime TV show, working on the staff of their fan clubs. A set tour of that show had been arranged, another favorite actor was doing a play, and one of the folks we worked with was in a musical as well. The timing was perfect to do a great deal of things in a short time.
The trip ended up being not as ideal as expected. From the sketchy hotel, which two of us had to move from …well, it was a lot of frustration.
The plays were fantastic, the set tour amazing, the actors great, but there were other factors that made parts of the trip incredibly annoying. We did, however, get to see a taping of Family Feud with a then-unknown Keith Urban, The Dixie Chicks, and Buck Owen against the Muppets. From a technical standpoint, it was so interesting. From a personal standpoint, I adored this blond Aussie. He came into the audience and he and I chit-chatted a bit. A few folks (a couple in my group) talked to the sisters from the Dixie Chicks, and really liked them.
Anyway…
On Sunday, 9/9, we were at a coffee shop across the street from our hotel when what felt like a truck rattled by. Everyone in line yelled “Quake” and there was a fair bit of nervousness. The quake was centered less than a quarter mile away and really rattled me. I remember talking with my then-fiancé, who was in Australia, and telling him how I just wanted to be home with my kitties, that parts of the trip had been great, but I was done traveling. I kept saying “at least when we get home, there will be nothing to worry about.” Meaning the quake. How wrong could I be?
We flew on American Airlines flight 76 from LAX to Washington, Dulles on 9/10/2001. Due to some snafus, when we got home, we were fairly wiped out. It was about 7 pm, and roommate and I had to decide if we wanted to get our cats from the borders or not. We opted to do so—smart idea.
We had a wonderful crew on the flight, and I remember asking one of the in-flight cabin crew members how to best extend my thanks, so that they might get recognition that would go in their file. She suggested writing to American directly, but took my comments on and gave me a beautiful smile. I later learned she (and some of the other flight crew) died at the Pentagon.
We were at this point living at a corner unit of an 8-floor high rise, southeastern exposure, gorgeous floor to ceiling windows. We were on the 7th floor. We means me…and the roommate, and the two cats. Roommate is a sweetheart, but she has Asperergers and doesn’t deal well with any chaos. At all. Some of the events of the trip, including her almost accidentally being dragged by a car had shaken her up deeply. As a result, I suggested she stay home from work the next day.
She declined.
At the time, I’d been working nights, though the combination of West Coast time, travel, getting the cats, getting settled back home, etc. had me pretty tired, and I crashed hard and early, from like 8Pm-midnight.
As I mentioned before, my then-fiancé was in Australia. After he finished his workday, mine would usually be winding down, so we’d use a voice over IP predecessor to Skype called Netmeeting to chat verbally over the net. For hours sometimes! He got online about 3am, and we chit chatted through his evening.
At about 7 am, the subject of where do we live came up. Again. He has four children, then teens, in Australia, and while I have a mom and stepdad here, I didn’t have as many ties. So the choice should have been easy, right? Wrong. He was contracting at the time, but the job market had tanked in early 2001 in Australia, and we were *very* concerned that he wouldn’t be able to get a well-paying job in his field. There was just nothing out there…
So we debated—bickered really—and by about 8:30 I said we ought to wind it down. Roommate was on her way to work, I was getting ready to go lie down for a few hours, and we might as well relax for a bit.
I’m very ADD and I can rarely do one thing at a time, so I flipped the TV on. I ended up on the Today show and was puttering around my small apartment, headset mic on a one-hundred foot cable. I made a snack and came back to the TV to see…
I was SURE it was a movie review. It was that time in the morning programs where they do their entertainment segments. I didn’t pay a lot of attention at first. Then something in the announcer’s voice, some thread, grabbed me over my fiancé’s voice and I asked him to be quiet. It was then we saw the aerial view of the second plane hitting. It was at a distance…but oh, you could tell it was a jet.
I managed to tell him what was going on and he turned on his TV, but of course there was nothing there. Yet. He was loading websites to see what could be found while I was piecing together that not one, but two, planes had hit the WTC, the same buildings I’d pointed out to him as landmarks when we drove past them on his trip to America a few months earlier.
We knew it was a terrorist attack, but had no idea what we should do. He was monitoring online feeds, I was seeing what the TV said. I was pacing back and forth in my apartment. At one point, I went into my bedroom and noticed a plane was flying very low over 395. My apartment complex was right off 395, which is a major highway into DC from Virginia.
Anyway, I made a mental note of it, thought it was strange, resumed pacing. About…maybe ten, fifteen minutes later, there was a sound in his voice, a sound I *never* hope to hear again. He told me to go into my bedroom. “Don’t scream, love. Just tell me what you see.”
I stood there in shock, tears pouring down my face, hugging one of my cats and trying not to scream into her fur, watching the Pentagon, a couple miles away, burning. It was the most horrifying moment of my life. If I hadn’t had him to anchor me, I have no idea what I would have done in that moment.
I never felt or heard the explosion, but other folks in my building did. I suppose with the TV and future DH’s voice in my ear, I just missed it. I’m so glad I did!
The rest of the day passed, parts of it in a blur, parts in too bright contrast. Phone service in DC was jammed, so future DH was tasked with calling my family and letting them know that I’d arrived home safely the night before. That was I shaken, but okay.
He also got in touch with roommate, who had no idea what had happened. She was the only English speaker at the time in her office, and only knew a few phrases in Vietnamese, not enough to piece together what was happening. She left for home at about ten am and actually arrived home at just before midnight. She ended up having to walk most of the fifteen mile route.
Future DH stayed with me all day. We watched the towers fall together from across the world, sobbing together. We opened up a chatroom that was a curious blend of science fiction authors from the BAEN bar (John Ringo and David Weber were there for a bit), soap opera fans, local friends, even future DH’s ex wife. We got the word out far and wide and people from all walks of life were there.
We all comforted each other, just by our presence together. Ideologically, and even physically, we were worlds apart, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. We were human, we were hurting together.
I’d keep wandering into the bedroom, watching the fire, wishing I could physically speak with friends and family. I watched the cars crawling past on 395, knowing those people wanted to be home with their loved ones. I worried about roommate, who didn’t have a cell phone, even though I know we couldn’t have reached her anyway.
I worried so much about friends in the Pentagon and WTC. Some were okay by miraculous means. Ani should have died in the Pentagon, but she was just late enough for work that she was on 395 when the plane hit. James’ son had a toothache and he was late to work at WTC1. Some folks were delayed because of the primary voting. Others…it was just fate.
And I lost some very dear friends in New York. I think about them a lot and know the world is a sadder place without them.
One of my most enduring memories of that day was chatting with three friends late that night (or possibly into the wee hours of 9/12). Kerri was a resident advisor at NYU. Amanda was a retail associate living in Indiana, and Brandy was a reporter in Houston. All three were just as terrified about what might come as I was. We were literally spread across the country and we all felt just as vulnerable.
Another enduring memory was me going onto the balcony that evening and looking out into the skies. The silence was astounding. No planes were overhead, though later we had fighter jet patrols. The airspace had been locked down. Then I heard the thump of helicopter rotors, many of them. They’d started the patrols around DC. Some of the copters hovered so close to my apartment that I could see the pilots’ faces.
A few days later, I went to the Pentagon City mall with some friends. We parked in the concrete parking garage that overlooked the Pentagon and just hugged each other and sobbed.
A couple of months later, my husband and I were married. He came over here to just be with me for a little bit, as his contract had ended, and we realized life was just too short to argue about the smaller things. We talked to a lawyer to discuss immigration options, told my family and his on a Sunday that we were being married on a Thursday, and did it, just us, roommate, Amanda from Indiana, who had temporarily moved in with us, and a justice of the peace.
The very next day we went up to New York. I had some work things to do, but that Saturday night, we went to Ground Zero, brought the workers coffee, spent about an hour there crying, comforting, being comforted by strangers. It was the strangest feeling of abject horror and uplifting humanity in that darkness.
We were set to leave New York that Monday, Veteran’s Day, two months after the attack, when the city was locked down. A plane had crashed and there were serious fears that it was another terror attack. I remember sitting in a hotel room, about ten of us, feeling like we were going through this all over again. And again being comforted by the presence of others.
9/11 changed so much in all of us. I wish all of you peace now, and always.
Thanks so much for taking the time to read this!
TG
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From:
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I remembered I was sitting in my kitchen, reading the book "Ramses" when my dad called me from the living room. I had no idea what I was seeing. I kept asking him: "Did a helicopter crash into a building?". And my dad: "No it was was an airplane!" It took me like five minutes to realize that an AIRPLANE hat hit the WTC. And then we watched as the second plane hit.
I was glued to the TV. When my father got outside for a smoke I sat there just watching. And then suddenly one Tower fell. I was screaming for my father and then the second Tower fell.
Later we learned another one hit the Pentagon and a third crashed in Pennsylvania.
It was really shocking. I had school the next day but we weren't able to concentrate. Instead we all talked about what happened. I got so angry, because by then we knew it was a terrorist attacked planned by Al-Qaeda.
I began to realize that this was just the beginning. My childhood, I was 16 at the time and just started my apprenticeship, was really over.
From:
no subject
Thank you for this.
From:
no subject
But the good thing is you got married as a result, that perhaps might not have happened had it not been for that situation.
It's sad that so many civilians were killed, but then that's the story of terrorism, because that's where those individuals leave their mark. Hopefully the US won't have to live any more situations of this nature. In Europe we are "unfortunately" accustomed to terrorist attacks of varying degrees of impact.
Hugs
From:
no subject
I remember vividly that day - one of our afternoon staff came in at 2pm and said a plane had hit the WTC and we thought it was another light aircraft hit. Then I looked on the BBC website and found it wasn't.
But I also remember that I had a stomach bug/virus that developed right about the time the planes hit. It got so bad I had to go home, and I spent the afternoon sitting in front of the TV watching the news and vomiting into a bucket - which, looking back, feels like a pretty appropriate response to the horrific attack we were witnessing on that day.
*hugs*
From:
no subject
I was asleep when my house mates woke me to the news and we all sat around the TV in shock watching, it was almost like a movie not really real but in your heart you knew it was. A lot of it was heart wrenching to watch but we never left the set till later that day not sure of anything really. I am also in Australia.
From:
no subject
I remember being on my way home from law school. I had a paper due the following Friday and had met a couple of other students to brainstorm, and I was about to get off the subway when people's cell phones started ringing. Back then, cell phones weren't all that common (unlike nowadays, where it's normal to see folks talking "to oneself") so having several phones going off at almost the same time was weird. Mine didn't, btw. Then I saw people's reactions when they answered their phones. Everyone went completely pale, they started crying, one started to hyperventilate and got out of the train as soon as it stopped, heaving. I still had no clue what was going on, walked home (three minutes tops), turned on the TV and saw WTC 1 burning. A couple of minutes later, the second plane hit. I just stared, not believing what I saw. I must've cried, because my face was totally wet and puffy by the time my mom came home, but I don't remember any of it.
That night, I spent hours talking to friends on the phone, just reassuring each other that everyone we knew is fine, etc. They knew I had quite a few friends in the States from my time living there, and I kept saying everyone's fine, nobody's in NYC or DC.
Turns out, the nephew of a family friend died in WTC2. :( I didn't know him well, but it just goes to show you that there are losses for people all over the world, not just Americans.
Seeing all the documentaries on TV these days brings back all those bad memories. It's still incomprehensible to me that anyone could do this to other people. Thanks for sharing your memories, and big hugs for your loss. :(
From:
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From:
no subject
That was a very emotional and touching memory and thank you for sharing. *hugs*
My memories of that day are very clear but not as devastating as yours. I was getting ready for work and had the news on (FOX) when I saw the report of the first plane. I saw the second plane hit live on the TV. All I felt at the time was shock and horror that something like this could happen.
I called work to let them know what was happening since we didn't have a TV. I was working at a retail store in the Mall of America. I started my drive in to work (takes about 20 minutes) and heard about the pentagon on the radio.
I arrived at work and then a bunch of us went to the restaurant across from us because they had their TVs on and watched through the gate. I need to note that the mall wasn't open yet because they didn't open until 10 AM. We stood there and watched for awhile with some tourist and Mall walkers, a very quiet and somber group, then went back to our store.
Just as we were about to open the mall sound their fire alarms and then announced that they were not opening and they were evacuating. Everyone was fairly calm but there was still a feeling of panic just below the surface. The reason they decided to evacuate (we were told at the time) was because the Mall of America is less than a mile from the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport and since they didn't know exactly what was going on they felt better to be safe.
A couple of my sisters and I met at one sisters house and spent most of the day together glued to the TV before we all went home. In the days and months following it was rumored that the Mall of America was on some "hit list" and every time it was brought up, it was like a ghost town in there. I could literally walk half way around the mall to Starbucks at lunchtime and not see anybody but other employees. Still gives me the willies.
Excuse the long post but once I started, just came flowing out.
Once again, thanks for posting and thanks for reading my post.
Lorene
From:
no subject
I, personally, didn't lose anyone, but a girl I went to school with. Her best friend lost one parent in the flight that went into the Pentagon, and the other parent who worked in the second tower.
Much love and peace to you.
From:
no subject
I can remember the day it happened ... the horror that something like this could happen ... and the pride in how the country came together ...
Thank you for sharing this ...
From:
no subject
I can only hope that this latest intel isn't as credible a threat as it appears to be.
From:
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From:
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From:
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The losses hurt the most -- each and every day for a long time -- and every year.
*hugs you*
From:
no subject
I had thought of doing something like this on my LJ and asking for others' experiences, but if you don't mind this seems a pretty good place to add my tuppence.
Living in England - timezone GMT+1, which is NYC+5 - I had heard of the World Trade Center, but that was all. I knew nothing of it, nothing of the Twin Towers, until that day in September.
I'm an engineer, engineers like their snack machines, but 30 odd guys don't buy enough to keep the commercial vending folks happy, so as an addition to my day job I'd go off to the supermarket in my lunch break on a Tuesday and buy a load of stuff to put in the machines.
September 11th 2001, I had completed the shopping and was driving back to the office with the car radio on, listening to the 2pm news. It was reported that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center and my immediate thought was "that's a bit careless" visualising a small light aircraft, maybe two seater at most.
The next bit is something of a blur, I guess I gave it no more thought and went back to my desk or maybe once there I looked online at the BBC news website for a little more detail on the story.
My then employer was an American company, and gradually it became obvious that something big and horrific was in progress. Internet access ground to a halt as - I imagine - every employee around the world was trying to access news-feed - in fact I think they asked us to look for updates on the intranet instead.
I don't believe I had any personal connection to anyone involved, but our VP had a cousin who worked at the Pentagon and I remember that he was very sharp with people that afternoon as he was worried and unable to find out anything.
I remember going home from work and putting the TV on and watching alone in horrified fascination as it all unfolded, and was played and replayed on the news. I am still amazed at the way the towers fell and have been even more amazed at how many people DIDN'T die, when the initial death toll was estimated at over 10,000, and especially of the bravery of all the first responders, many of whom were themselves murdered in the attack.
When I realised that it wasn't a light aircraft and therefore not an accidental collision, there was no question that it was terrorism, something the British were mildly accustomed to from the IRA.
There was a feeling of kinship with America then, in watching it all unfold at the same time as millions of other people around the planet.
I guess it is my "JFK moment" in life.
From:
no subject
We only watched for a little while, mum turned off the tv as she didn't want us kids to be frightened. My sister n I, along with my grandparents were flying to Europe the next day, on what would be my first ever flight experience and first trip overseas. Mum tried to keep us from watching, but we did catch snippets of it, it was on every channel, on every tv no matter where we went.
I remember seeing the airplane hitting the towers over n over again as it replayed I couldn't comprehend it. I remember asking my mum, what the black shapes were coming out of the windows of the building, I'll never forget her face as she told me people were jumping, I guess it's something you don't want to have to tell ur young daughter or indeed anyone.
I remember the first time I saw the buildings crumple, I remember the ache in my gut. I remember we went to the shopping centre n the department store being practically empty, everyone was crowded around the tv section watching, some people were crying. Even here is Aus the events hit hard, it wasn't just an Americal tragedy although no one doubts the immense suffering those in US felt, it was a world tragedy. Something that's shocked us all n changed things forever.
I remember being terrified boarding the plane the next day, in hindsight though it was probably the safest time to travel with all the excess security. It was my first ever flight, I remember throwing up just after takeoff I was so scared, I couldn't leave my seat I wanted my seatbelt on all the time - thank god for air sickness bags.
When we got to Melbourne international airport, we had a bit if time before out flight to Europe departed, I rummaged through my carry on bag and pulled out my NY Yankees cap n wore it, seems a little silly now, but I guess that was my younger selves way of showing my support to all those effected. I wore it the whole flight to Vienna.
I remember we had a brief stop at Kuala Lumpur, there were soldiers everywhere with guns. Security was really tight. We arrived at our destination, n I had never been happier to be on solid ground, the tv screens were showing 9/11 coverage there to.
Time passed, a month, n we were ready to fly home. We flew over Afghanistan, the scariest thing was watching the camera from under the plane, there were a lot of bright flashes from underneath us n two bright blue flames came up quickly before the camera and the map thingy option was shut off so you could no longer see it. I was told by my grandpa when we landed safely, that as we flew over Afghanistan they were shooting n we had to be escorted by fighter jet over the airspace, apparently the two blue flames I saw were the jet engines.
On arrival back to Aus I learned that one of mum and dads friends had lost family members in the WTC attack. I had met their family members a few times and they were wonderful people, 10 years on are still missed terribly.
I remember hearing about the rescue efforts that went on, how so many people banded together in a wonderful show of support and solidarity it was beautiful to see the strength of people shining through. I remember my heart breaking for all those effected, n the pride I felt for the heroes, many who paid the ultimate price.
As the years went on, and I grew up (now 23), I met many people both through my job now n through our companies that were effected so personally by that fateful event. Including a firefighter who was part of the rescue attempt n who was lucky to survive he WTC collapse, he told me that the real heroes were the ones who didn't come back to the firehouse.
10 years on, I still remember. It's printed firmly in my mind. I will not forget. To the victims, I will remember. To their families my heart, prayers n thoughts go out to u all even now. To the heroes of the day I'll never forget.
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I live in the Niagara Region in Canada, just across the border from Niagara Falls, NY, and we are probably more "aware" of America than many other Canadians because (until that day, at least) border crossing was an easy thing and something we did quite regularly. We also get many American TV stations, being so close to the border.
I was also dating an American at the time, a fellow from Illinois who worked nights in an office tower in St. Louis, MO.
At about 9:05 am, a co-worker arrived late for work, and informed us all that he'd just been listening to the radio and heard that a plane had hit the WTC. Like most people, we assumed it was a small plane, as had happened once before. But soon it became apparent that something big and sinister was going on, and we set up the TV in the board room. All work in the office ground to a halt, and we took turns streaming in and out of the room to check the news.
I was beside myself with worry, because we didn't know (a) whether we would also be targeted (the Welland Canal in my city feeds into the St. Lawrence Seaway, and all commercial shipping would grind to a halt if they targeted it) or (b) whether other American cities would also be hit, and I kept thinking about Kevin asleep in his bed, not knowing what was going on.
He usually woke up around 2 pm , but at 11 am I couldn't hold out any longer and I called and woke him up. At first he was angry, thinking I was playing some awful practical joke on him, but then he turned on the TV and we sat and cried together, me at my desk in the office with my internet browser trained on CNN, and him in his boxers in front of the TV set.
The next day, the Globe and Mail newspaper printed a whole separate section about the attacks, and on the back of it was a picture extending across both pages - a Canadian flag and an American flag side by side, with the caption "United We Stand". I felt such a mixture of emotions - indignant, infuriated, vindictive, and yet incredibly proud of my country and just knowing that we would not let this travesty go unpunished.
I still have that newspaper, and every now and then I pull it out and look through it. I cry every single time.
9/11 was our generation's equivalent of the JFK shooting - a watershed moment that will be forever emblazend on our consciousness, and that inspires the question, where were you when...? We saw the worst of humanity on that day, but we also saw the best.
Thanks for this. ♥
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DH made a few predictions that ended up coming true, and we saved that newspaper for a long time. We may still have it, though I doubt it. It probably got thrown out during ... anyway.
We were most worried about DH's uncle, because he was in a base hospital in San Antonio and if the base went on lockdown, his wife and kids wouldn't be able to go see him. So, we traveled down to San Antonio (We were in Tyler TX at the time), and spent the weekend with them. It turned out to be something that wasn't needed, per se but it was appreciated, and DH got to spend time with his family.
Thank you so much, TG, for sharing your story, and for everyone else who's done so, too. It's definitely a defining moment.
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JFK's assasination, the death of my son, Hunter of AIDS at 25 in 1991 and 9/11 are the main events that have affected my life.
I was working for Aetna, Inc. at our Horsham, PA office next to an airforce air base. I heard the news of the 1st plane while driving into work. At work, TVs were turned on. Our cell phones and computers did not work. Then there was a second plane and the buildings fell. We were told that all the roads around the base were to be closed. We had to write down our home addresses and leave immediately to go home to be available for any phone calls from work. Nothing to do but to go home and watch TV.
When Kennedy was shot I went to church as many others did.
In both cases it felt like our world was falling apart.
When my son died, it felt like my life was falling apart.
But we live on, cry when we need to, laugh when we can. And remember those we loved and lost. Blessed to have had them in our lives for a too brief time.
Ahavia
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Hard to believe it has been ten years since it happened. May we always remember the lives of those that died.
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I was fortunate that day - a few close friends lost relatives, and a good friend of mine would almost certainly have died if he hadn't started a new job the previous week, but everyone I knew was fine.
I heard the news on the radio while I was getting ready for class and spent the rest of the day more or less in shock. I was at the other end of Manhattan, but could see the smoke from the fires and there's a lounge near the top of one of the taller buildings that used to have a great view of the twin towers that was full of faculty and students staring in disbelief at a gaping hole in the skyline. I remember feeling really cut off from the world for much of the day - I couldn't afford cable at the time, and since many of the broadcast antennas were on top of the WTC, it was difficult to get news once the towers came down, especially since the internet kept crashing on campus from overuse. I was finally able to get a rather fuzzy PBS channel from Jersey that was showing a feed from the CBC news, which I found immensely comforting. It was really hard to process how I felt - as a non-American, the attacks didn't feel quite as personal as they clearly did for most of the people around me, and I felt a bit like an outsider who had interupted a private grief, but at the same time I was, however temporarly, a New Yorker. And now, I'm feeling the same sort of disconnect, in reverse - the people around me have been talking all week about how it's the JFK moment for our time, and how much the world has changed, but it's all so abstract, and even though there were Canadians killed on 9/11, there's a very clear sense that this was an attack on 'them' and while it had effects on 'us', it's not really our tragedy. But even though a part of me is quietly screaming that *I was there*, there's still a part of me that feels like an attention-seeking ghoul butting into someone else's story.
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I have nothing new to share than other folks have already said. I didn't lose anyone in the disaster and mostly remember my then-boyfriend at the time just watching TV over the next few days and crying at the sight of people jumping to their deaths from the towers.
And I remember Giuliani and Lorne Michaels doing the intro to the first episode of Saturday Night Live after 9/11. For as much as I'm not a fan of the show, it resonated with me, trying to help people remember how to laugh after all that.
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Last night as my family sat at a local high school football game my 8 year old nephew said he had homework to do on where and what his family did on 9/11. But he still didn't really understand what happened. How do you explain something like that to an 8 year old or to a 94 year old. I can't really understand it myself.
((HUGS)) and Thank you for sharing your emotions so beautifully to us.