9/11

Today is the 10th anniversary of 9/11.  Every year the media starts earlier and earlier with the memories and tributes to 9/11.  I'm actually starting to write this on 8/30 because there are so many articles and photos bringing that day to mind.  I decided I should get this down while the emotions are here.

This really isn't so much a punch as just a chance for me to document that day as I remember it.  That way someday when my kids are studying this event I can let them read this and they'll know where their dad and mom were that day.

It was a gorgeous, beautiful, stunning day in New York City.  I still remember walking out of the subway station in midtown that morning and I noticed what a beautiful day it was.  I can't remember what the previous day's weather had been, but I remember noticing what a perfect day it was that morning.  I remember thinking I couldn't wait until lunch time because I wanted to sit outside and enjoy the day.  I remember what I was wearing that day.  A black skirt with a tan and black striped shell and cardigan sweater and black flats (thank God I'd chosen flats that day).

I think part of the reason the city looked so beautiful and rosy to me that morning was because I was wearing a shiny new diamond for the first time.  Just the night before the Hubs had gotten down on one knee and asked me to be his wife.  I was bursting with the news and couldn't wait to tell my friends at work.

I glided into the office ready to make my big announcement when I noticed everyone crowded around the big screen TV in my boss's office.  We worked for a private investment bank and at first I thought there was something big going on with the market.

"What's going on?"  I asked.

"Shh," my coworker said.  "A plane flew into the World Trade Center and now the building is on fire."

My coworker had worked in the WTC the first time it was bombed in 1993 and she remembered how difficult and scary it was to evacuate that building in those days.

"This looks bad," she said.  "They've got to get those people out."

"Where is the plane?" I asked.  I'd seen way too many Hollywood movies and I expected to see the tail section sticking out of the building or something like that.

"It's gone," another coworker said.  "It was just a little Cessna.  Didn't have a chance against that building."

We watched the live feed for a bit longer until we saw the second aircraft come into view.

I said, "What is that other plane doing there?  Don't they see the building is on fire?  They should get out of the way, they're going to accidentally hit the building."

Yeah.  "Accidentally."  That's what I said.  See at this point we had no idea there was a jetliner inside the first building and we never fathomed for a moment that second one would hit the other building.

But sure enough, as we and the rest of the world watched, the plane sliced right into the south tower.  We saw the plane disappear into the side of the building.  I waited for it come back out the other side and it didn't.  The building swallowed it whole.

We were stunned.  Quietly, someone next to me started to cry.

Another coworker came running into our office and began wildly looking out windows.

"What are you doing?"  I asked her, "You can't see downtown from here."

"I know," she replied.  "I'm looking for more planes.  We're under attack!  I'm going down to the street.  I'm not staying up here any longer."

We were on the 31st floor of a non descript high rise that would not make a statement to bomb.  But she had a point, we were surrounded by famous landmark buildings like the Seagram Building and the Citibank Building.  I hadn't even thought about more planes yet.

I just wanted to click my heels three times and end up back in Kansas.

We stayed glued to the TV until we saw both of the buildings fall.  My coworker who had survived the first WTC attack was stunned.  She estimated 40,000 people had just lost their lives on live television.  She remembered how slow and chaotic the evacuation of the building had been and she couldn't imagine that it had changed at all.  (Thank God a lot of lessons had been learned since the first attack and the buildings were evacuated quickly.)

The phone rang and it was our boss.  He was stranded in London because of all the now-grounded flights.  He was pissed off and wanted us to get him home.  I'm sure he was trying to click his heels too, but instead of being sensitive to what was happening, he was just an asshole.  He asked for the Dictaphone so he could start working on an anti-terrorism speech.  I guess that's his way of dealing with stress and grief.

My normally calm and composed coworker snapped at him, "We just watched thousands of people die!  The planes are grounded!  Go back to your hotel!"

We all stayed close to the TV most of the morning.  I called the Hubs (fiance) and my mom back in Kansas and told them I was doing OK.  We weren't quite sure what to do.  My boss kept calling in and asking to be connected to various dignitaries so he could figure out what was going on.  He kept dictating memos to me over the phone.  After about an hour or so we decided to leave Manhattan.

Everyone was leaving their offices and heading back to the presumed safety of their homes.  We decided to leave too.

My coworker and her husband lived near me in Queens and we were trying to figure out how to get home.  All of the public transportation was suspended and the bridges and tunnels in and out of Manhattan were locked down.  If we wanted to get home to Queens, we were going to have to hoof it.

I called the Hubs and told him where to meet us in Queens.  We were going to walk across the 59th Street Bridge and meet him somewhere on the other side so he could drive my friends home.

My coworker and I shut down our computers and gathered our stuff.  Her husband came into the office with 2 bottles of water each.  "It's going to be a long walk and we need to be prepared," he said.  I had not even thought of that.  I didn't even have my cell phone that day.  I'd left it on the charger in my apartment.

We grabbed our waters and started walking.  We walked out the back door of our building onto Lexington.  I'd never seen the roads so empty of non-essential vehicles.  Taxis, limos, buses, vans, cars were all out of the way.  Lexington runs south towards downtown and it was full of screaming emergency vehicles from all over the metro heading down to the WTC.  We crossed over to Third Avenue, which runs north.  It too was full of emergency vehicles going to the wrong way on a one way street.

That day I saw a side of New York City I'd never seen before.  People were scared, but they were not panicked.  People were helping one another and taking turns, being helpful.  I saw employees of an athletic shoe store encouraging women in heels to come in and grab a free pair of tennis shoes for their long walk.  I saw people lining up in orderly fashion at ATMs waiting patiently to get cash.  I saw friends and strangers comforting one another.  No one ran, no one pushed, no one yelled.  We just walked together.  In stunned silence really.  Some people were crying quietly, others were on the phone with loved ones.  Everyone was just trying to process what was happening around us.  The sky was still clear and the sun was shining brightly, but our world was becoming very dark around us.  I felt such a heavy feeling of doom settling over me.  I noticed a pregnant woman walking behind me and I thought to myself, How could you want to bring a baby into this horrible world?

By the time we got about halfway across the 59th Street Bridge we could see a lot of people ahead of us stopping and looking downtown.  This was our first glimpse of what was left of the WTC.  Many people were taking pictures of themselves with the huge clouds of smoke billowing behind them.  At the time I thought it was in poor taste, now I'm not sure.  Ten years later we're so used to taking pictures of EVERYTHING that something of that magnitude might actually make a lot more sense than "Look at this giant blister on my toe."  I wish now I had my own pictures from that day to document the tragedy that I witnessed.  Already the details grow fainter and I think pictures would help me remember better.

We stopped for a moment to look at the site to just let our minds absorb what we were seeing.  Two huge skyscrapers gone in a cloud of ash and dust.  It boggled the mind to really look down towards lower Manhattan and see that cloud and know there was nothing there.

While we stood there thinking about the destruction and loss of life we were witnessing, 3 fighter jets screeched overhead, very low.  People on the bridge cheered and said the usual stuff like, "Yeah!  America!  Go get 'em!"  Stupid patriotic shit like that that you see in Michael Bay movies.  All I could think was, How do you know those are American jets?


When I voiced my concern out loud my companions looked at me like I was insane.  "Who else would it be?"  I was asked.

"I don't know.  Whoever hit the buildings.  Maybe now they're sending in the fighter jets to take down the entire city."

"Jen, you're crazy.  It's over.  Those are Americans.  They're protecting our airspace.  Nothing can get through now."

"Hmm.  If you say so," I answered.  "I'm just glad we're not walking home across the Brooklyn Bridge or the George Washington Bride though."

"Why?" they asked.

"Because no one's really heard of the 59th Street Bridge.  No one would care if this one blew up, but those other bridges are famous.  You know they're going to blow up once they're full of people walking home.  Everyone knows that when something big happens in Manhattan they lock down the bridges and tunnels and people have to walk.  Once those bridges are full I'm sure they're rigged to blow up."

I was serious.  Dead serious.  It just made complete sense to me.  Why stop with two buildings?  The city was on its knees, it was time for the kill.  I just kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Everyone stopped talking to me and we walked the rest of the way pretty much in silence.

We found the Hubs in Queens and he shuttled us all home.  It had taken about 3 hours to walk to our meeting place.

I spent the rest of the day holed up in my apartment watching the live coverage.  I didn't want to leave my couch.  I had the weirdest thoughts like, That's the picture I'd put on a flyer if my fiance was missing. Or I wish Super Man was real.  He'd kick Osama's ass.  I stockpiled water and I put $1000 in cash under my mattress and called it "Flee Money."

Ten years later I'll spend the anniversary of 9/11 taking my kids to the circus.  I'll be slightly concerned that we'll be in a "soft target" and the threat level has gone up for the anniversary.  Ten years ago I didn't know what a "soft target" was or that there was even a threat level.  A lot has changed and it pisses me off that this is the world my children are being raised in.  Our innocence has been stolen and I wish I could get it back.  I'm not naive, I know that we created Osama and that the U.S. runs all sort of shit behind the scenes where we make and break world leaders overnight, but I just wish our government would have taken their head out of their ass for a moment and looked at the big picture before they started wheeling and dealing with Osama bin Laden and his crew.