September 11 Anniversary. Where were you? Share here:

[RickinNYC]

It’s been almost three years since that fateful day, September 11, 2001. Three years for all of us to understand we have indeed entered into a new world that I never dreamed possible in my lifetime.

I’ve been especially pensive about the coming anniversary due to the nature of my job. I’m a program officer for a major financial firm’s philanthropy department. We have more than two hundred thousand dollars left in our 9/11 victim’s relief fund and I have been charged with identifying a worthy cause that this money could help serve. That said, I’ve been doing a huge amount of research, making dozens of phone calls, speaking to agencies that are still operational.

And it brings back so many memories…

I was a different person then. It was late in the summer and I been laid off from my position as an Implementation Specialist for a financial distance e-learning company. The money had been great up to that point so I thought I would take it easy for the next few months. I would travel, see family and friends. I would basically be a bum. I’d never done anything so shamelessly frivolous before and I thought, “What better time than ever?”

And bum I was indeed. My partner Joe would occasionally needle me by tossing the New York Times help wanted section before he left for work in the morning. Other times he would ask me how “the hunt” was going with a mild level of scorn in his voice. He knew it was just a matter of time before I put my nose to the grindstone and really started looking. He knew I was just trying to enjoy myself for a change, and not being the workaholic that he fell in love with. But he enjoyed the opportunity to tease me and get my goat.

The days of unemployed stretched into weeks and I was thoroughly enjoying my newfound bump-on-a-log status. I was sleeping in one sunny morning when the phone rang, waking me from a sound sleep. It was Joe. “Turn on the TV! A plane just hit one of the towers in the Trade Center!” He was practically screaming in my ear.

I didn’t believe him and said as much but he kept insisting. I mumbled that it had to have been a little Cessna or something of the type, certainly not a multi passenger jumbo jet. And Joe kept screaming, “I’m outside, on the street and staring at the tower right now! It’s on fire and smoke is pouring out of it! Papers are floating all over the place. Turn on the TV!”

So I did.

And it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room. What I saw, what we all saw, took my breath away. I was in shock and couldn’t speak.

“Are you there? Rick? Answer me!” Joe was shouting at me once again, for fear he had lost the tenuous connection.
“I’m here… where are you?”

He breathed and said, “I’m just outside my office. Everyone is outside, watching the towers. We can see everything down the avenue, it’s horrible… all those people….” At that, the love of my life’s voice started to hitch. “I have to go inside now. I can’t watch this… I’ll call you when I get upstairs, ok?”

I made him promise that he would call me as soon as he sat at his desk. He swore he would. Minutes passed. I sat on the edge of the bed, remote hanging limply at my side. My eyes were glued to TV screen. Names whirled in my mind. John. Tom. Liza. Myrna. Mike. Veronica. Peter. Felicia. Darryl. Pat. Gary. Steven. Chris. And the list grew and grew. Friends and coworkers who worked in either the towers or immediately next door. I reached for the phone and started dialing.

Busy signal. I dialed Tom. Busy signal. John. Busy signal. Liza. No connection. Mike. No connection. Steven. No connection. Myrna. No connection. Veronica. No connection. Gary. No connection. Over and over. I wasn’t getting anywhere so I stood and walked into the living room and paced, cordless phone in one hand, remote in the other.

I had left the bedroom set on and turned on the living room television. I stared at the screen, clicking from channel to channel. The same images. Flames. Smoke. Bodies. Reality television at its absolutely most horrifying. And I kept watching.

The phone handset rang, startling me to the point that I jumped. It was Joe. “I’ve been trying to call you but I couldn’t get through. Everyone here is ok.” I could hear the constant scream of sirens in our own neighborhood as well as outside his office window. It was a noise that we would hear for many days to come.

Neither one of us wanted to get off the phone with the other. We both agreed that we would keep trying to call our friends who worked downtown. I was still staring at the TV screen when the first tower fell and I felt a scream build in my chest and I couldn’t stop it. Joe was asking me what was wrong so I tried to tell him but I was too horrified. When I finally burst out, “It’s falling! The tower is falling!” he already knew. I begged him to stay put, not to walk outside for fear of rioting or panicked groups.

Of the two of us, Joe is the gentle soul, the most likely of us to lend a helping hand to a total stranger. Joe just beams trust, kindness and peace. I was terrified that he would be swept up in the fear and panic. “Stay put. Don’t leave your office right now, ok? Promise? Just stay there!”

He promised and then told me he had to get off the phone. A lot of folks in his office were understandably upset and he felt he was needed. “A lot of the women are crying and some of the guys want to go. I have to go. At least to help out a little, ok? I won’t leave the building but I have to go. I’ll call you back. Keep trying to call Tom and John, though, ok? Keep trying to get in touch with them and let me know what happens.”
And he hung up. And I started my marathon dialing. And the second tower fell. And I cried and dialed. Tom. John. Veronica. Mike. Gary. Felicia. On and on… never getting a dial tone, only getting busy signal or no signal at all. Sometimes I would get through and the phone would ring, my heart would soar… and then I’d get disconnected, only to have to start all over. Dialing Tom. Then John. Then Liza. Then Myrna. Then… “Hello!?? Who is this?”

“TOM?! Is that you? Are you ok? TOM?” I was screaming into the phone. I had finally gotten through to one of my closest college friends. I could hear sirens in the background. And people shouting, others crying. And Tom. My buddy was ok. He was outside when the towers were hit and he watched everything unfold in front of him. He was out of breath and kept coughing. “I breathed in a lot of smoke man, it’s killing me,” he wheezed. Nevertheless, he confirmed he was fine, just pretty winded and tired from running. “Hey, can you do me a favor? I can’t seem to get through to anyone on this cel phone. Can you call my mom for me? And Roberta? Can you call her and tell her I’m fine?” And I could hear the tears in his voice. “I’m fine. Can you please tell them?”

And I promised I would and miracles of all miracles, I got through to Tom’s mom out on Long Island on the first try. I reminded her who I was, and before I could explain why I was calling, her next question tore through me. “Is Tommy ok?” she asked so quietly, so timidly. “Is he ok?”

“Yes ma’am, he’s fine,” I assured her. “He’s on his way home, not a scratch on him.”

Immediately after, I called Tom’s girlfriend to tell her the news but I couldn’t get through. She worked in midtown Manhattan, in Time Square, away from the horror that was unfolding downtown. I knew she would be near panic, worried about Tom so I kept at it. She was just one more name to add to my list of calls.

John. Liza. Myrna. Roberta. And now Joe. I couldn’t get through to him. I tried calling his office but this time, all I heard was a high-pitched keening noise filled with static. I immediately started moving from one news channel to the next, desperate to know if any thing else had happened. Nothing. No other planes. No bombings. But he was in the Flatiron Building and the news anchor said that landmarks were likely going to be targets for more attacks. His building was one the most famous in the city. So I kept speed dialing to no avail.

I kept trying to reassure myself that all was well, that Joe was fine. So I moved on. To keep myself occupied, I tried to call my friends and former coworkers. I did get through to Roberta. She had walked home and was in their apartment. She had already spoken to Tom who happened to be walking through the door at that moment. She dropped the phone and ran to him. They hugged and I could hear each of them talking to the other at the same time. I heard tears before I hung up to give them privacy. They were okay.

I sat there still, watching the TV, phone in one hand, the other neurotically stroking my dog Bill’s coat. A mindless gesture that was keeping me grounded in a semblance of sanity. Minutes passed to hours and I still couldn’t get through to anyone. I paced the apartment, with the phone glued to my hand. My thoughts of Joe were rocketing through my head. I was praying to God that Joe was fine. I prayed for all the friends I couldn’t reach. And I prayed for all those that wouldn’t come home that day. And I sat on the couch with Bill’s furry head in my lap. Phone in my hand. Staring at the TV screen.

And the phone rang, it was Joe. I shouted at him, angry, frustrated, relieved, ever so relieved, “What happened?! Where have you been?! I tried to call and I couldn’t get through!” They had been forced to evacuate their building and since the bridged, tunnels, subways and busses were closed down, he didn’t have anywhere to go. His boss took him back to her apartment where he had been sitting for a couple of hours, watching everything through her living room window.

“Oh, and John called me. They couldn’t evacuate his building because he was so close. He’s been stuck down there and couldn’t get out till just a little while ago. He’s home and safe. I’m walking over to his place in a minute,” he said. John was one of Joe’s greatest of friends, the two of them were exceptionally close. “I just want to make sure he’s really ok. So when they start the subways again, I’ll come home, ok? I want to come home…”

My partner in crime, my right hand man, was safe and sound. Scared but safe. And that was what mattered. Hearing his voice, I was able to concentrate on other things, like what might happen next. I grabbed my wallet and walked into the neighborhood. I live in Forest Hills, Queens, very much a part of the city. As I walked towards Queens Boulevard, it was a scene right out of a 70’s disaster movie. The sun was shining and a cool breeze was gently blowing through the neighborhood. It would have been a perfect day but for the scene of cars and people in front of me. There were cars jamming the boulevard, traffic was at a standstill. Thousands of people were plodding along the median and sidewalks, walking away from Manhattan. What added to the surreal moment was the fact that not a car honked, not a truck blasted its horn. People weren’t jostling each other. No talking. No laughing. Nothing but the dank smell of smoke that hovered over all of us.

I withdrew a few hundred dollars from my checking account and walked down the street to C-Town, our local grocery store. I picked up a few essentials, as well as several extra bottles of water and a couple boxes of meal replacement bars. I hoped for the best but wanted to be prepared for the worst. Walking back to my apartment, I noticed a number of neighbors had started coming home. I asked if they had taken the subway but it turned out they had walked. The subways were still shut down. The city was at a stand still, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I walked along, shifting the heavy bags from hand to hand, trying to get a better grip, thinking things through. Trying to remember where my first aid kit was, where my supply of extra batteries were stashed, the thermal blankets, backpacks, extra prescriptions, maps, compass, flashlights, radio. I was mentally checking things off when a low flying military jet blew right over the neighborhood, the sonic boom smashing over our heads. Several people screamed, others ducked, some fell to the ground. I dropped my bags and fell to one knee, staring up at the sky, waiting… waiting…

I picked up my scattered water bottles and collected the meal bars that had fallen out of their boxes. Carrying everything the last couple of blocks, I went home to my apartment to find messages on my machine. Veronica was fine! Peter made it home! Pat, Gary and Felicia were together and they were good! I could feel the lump in my throat. So many of those that I was worried about were healthy and alive. Covered in soot, dirt and who knows what else, but they were fine.

With relief, I started putting my purchases away and sat in the back yard, letting the dog have his daily romp. I watched him play with his treasured hedgehog, tossing it in the air, running after it. Lather, rinse, repeat. The knucklehead was so full of joy and life, I couldn’t help but smile. We stayed there for the rest of the afternoon. I continued to try to contact my friends I hadn’t heard from but I didn’t want to do so in front of the glow of the television screen. I couldn’t watch it anymore.

I kept glancing at my watch, noticing that the shadows were growing longer and the afternoon grew into evening. And I still sat, occasionally playing catch with the dog, otherwise dialing, dialing, dialing. I reached down to scratch Bill’s head when I saw him pause and stare at the back door. His head tilted and his butt quivered; with a snort, he was off like a shot into the kitchen and through the living room. I heard a door slam and a loud “OOF!” Joe was home.

Strangely, we hesitated when I saw him at the door, Bill happily jumping around his legs, my eyes looking at him. I smiled. He smiled. And we awkwardly stood there, staring at each other, relieved to see the other. A few seconds passed and no one said a word. We walked towards each other, tears falling without shame, hugging, his head on my shoulder, arms holding each other tight. His shirt and hair smelled like smoke but I couldn’t stop, I didn’t care. My Joey was home.

Throughout the evening, I would move into the kitchen and Joe would follow. Joe would move into the living room, and I’d be right behind him. We didn’t want to leave the other’s side. Joe helped me make more phone calls. We were finally able to reach my parents and assured them that we were well. More tears, more talking, more words of “I was so worried… I couldn’t get through… I tried to call all day and night…” Joe reached his sister and brother and yet more tears.

Over the next few days, into the next few weeks, phone calls started coming in, confirming what I had feared. Nine of my friends and former co-workers had died on September 11, 2001. Nine of them never went home from work that day.

Over the next three years, like everyone else in New York City, life went on. So many of us lost someone we loved. Some of us lost a husband, a wife, a daughter, a son, a mother, a father. Some of us lost our friends. And we still miss them. Things have gotten better. And I sit here, sifting through grant requests, trying to find a non-profit agency that is serving the victims and families of 9/11. Trying to find one that is still helping the community. There are still so many. But one day, maybe there won’t be any need for them. I hope so.

 

[goofy4tink]

Wow. I am incredibly touched by that. What was I doing? Nothing nearly as interesting. No story here. I was hanging curtains in my guest room. Still can't look at one particular window without seeing that second plane hit!!! I don't think I've cried so much due to something outside my immediate family. I can only pray that we never forget. Thanks for the reminder. You have a wonderful way with words.

 

[debster812]

Rick that was beautiful, and I know in my heart of hearts, you will find the right organization to give the money to, I just know you will!

 

[mtemm]

I was 18 weeks pg with our first baby. on september 10th I got a call from my dr. saying my triple screen was very low, and she would recommend an amnio if I wanted to do it. I had my first u/s scheduled for the next morning, so she went ahead and planned to do the amnio at the same time. I could change my mind if I wanted on it at any point.

I was so sad, so scared something was wrong with my baby. He was a surprise to begin with...dh and I were not planning on trying quite yet. the fear that something was wrong settled into the pit of my stomach. no way would I refuse the amnio...I needed to know one way or the other. I would have worried myself sick if I hadn't gone thru with it.

early the next morning, september 11, we drove to Boston (lived in arlington just outside of the city). it was such an emotional morning. my dr. was an absolutely wonderful person and I trusted her so much, she gave us a lot of comfort. We hadn't planned on finding out the sex, but in light of everything we decided to go ahead...some fun news on top of the worry. The tech and my dr. could easily tell it was a boy....shocked me, apparently I thought it was a girl, even though I didn't realize I had any opinion until they told me what he was.

so with so many mixed emotions, with the fear in the pit of my stomach that something was wrong and the thrill of our first view of our son, we got in the car to drive home. started calling people to tell them the happy news. got ahold of dh's grandmother first...she wouldn't let dh get a word in edgewise, just kept going on and on that a plane went into the trade center. we didn't understand at all...figured it was an accident, a small plane or something. He was still talking to her when the second one went in...then we knew something was up. he hung up and we speculated what on earth was going on. we determined that whoever it was didn't hit DC because it must be too well protected, so chose NY. We walked into our apt., turned the news on, and not long after the pentagon was hit.

I can't tell you the mix of emotions that day, from my own worries and excitement to well, the disbelief that what was happening was happening. I have family in DC, many friends in NY, the flights were out of Boston where we lived and possibly knew people onboard. My parents were vacationing in Russia.

Thankfully everyone I knew was safe. It took me a long time to wrap my mind around what had happened. I was supposed to go home and relax from the amnio, no undue activity or stress as my dr. put it. Ha!

A few days later we were at mass...can't believe how full the churches were daily those weeks after...when we got the call that our son was okay, the amnio showed all was fine. I just wish the same could have been said for all of those poor people who lost their lives and their loved ones.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your story had me in tears

 

[SplshMtn99]

Wow, I'm almost ashamed to post this after that. I have goose bumps - that was so well written.

We, were at WDW. MGM to be exact. And didn't hear about anything until about 10:15am. We heard a plane had hit the WTC. I, too assumed it was a small passenger private type plane.

Very long story short. Even though the parks closed around noon, I REALLY DIDN'T UNDERSTAND until we got back to our hotel room at the Beach Club around 1pm & turned on the TV. ...to say the least.

 

[Abbie]

 

[Blueeyes101817]

i was in my 11th grade english class..the principal made an announcement, but made it seem like no big deal..in between class periods, i saw my dad in the hallway, and thats when i knew it must be bad.....He is a firefighter here in NJ, and he was volunteering to go to WTC to help out...so he wanted to come say goodbye to my brother and i incase he had to leave...after he left, we watched the news in all the classes for the rest of the day

 

[WDWLVR]

Rick - that was beautiful. I found out much like you did - from the love of my life calling me. He was home getting ready for work while I was at work. Living in Chicago we were far removed the actual scene, but watched it play out in horror on the tv. I have no friends or relatives killed that day, but still I feel the pain. I can only imagine what it was like for you and others who lost those dear to them.

We must never forget. Thanks to you and your accounts you have helped me remember this year. Bless you.

 

[Jenn Lynn]

Very beautiful and sad.

I was at home with my newborn and watched it all happen on tv.

My Brother (18) and 2 of his college friends drove to Boston from Iowa and then went into New York to volunteer their help. They ended up helping load/organize food and donations at a shelter. CBS even did a piece on them on 48hrs. They also met a guy who does voices for Sesame Street characters and he invited them to his house and let them stay there while they were in town. Very nice of him to take in strangers. I was very proud of my Brother.

 

[monarchsfan16]

I was 14 and had just started my freshman year about 2 weeks before it happened. I was in Bio class when a gym teacher came in and started whispering to my teacher. I heard something about 747's. My teacher turned around looking so white that I thought he was going to pass out (and this is someone I knew took pleasure in the grossest dissections he could find). He told us we were going to get some shaky news during homeroom. Then the bell rang and we headed off to homeroom. My teacher had the news on so we learned pretty quickly what had happened. The next period they made an announcement that the WTC and Pentagon had been hit. We watched nothing but the news in any class but gym, which was held out on the field with army helicopters circling overhead. It was so eerie, because normally jets are flying overhead-the airport is just a few minutes from my school.
I returned home and spent the rest of the afternoon in mom's arms. She just couldn't let go of us. That night as she was tucking us into bed my aunt called saying that the cousins thought their aunt (my great aunt) had been on one of the flights. She called back about 10 minutes later to tell us that yes Aunt Thelma had been on the plane. None of us slept a wink that night. With the anniversary fast approaching I can sense everyone in my family getting crankier and sadder. Including myself.
I was totally naive then, and can't believe how little I knew about the world at the time. As the board outside the school said for about a month after- 9/11/01, the day a generation lost their innocence.

 

[mckryan]

I was sitting in my office watching the morning shows like I always do. I heard the newscasters say something about a plane and the WTC. So, I started flipping around, desperate for more information. A missle? A plane? A bomb? No one had a good answer for 15 minutes, until that second plane went into the second tower. At that very moment, I knew my life was about to change, yet again. You see, my husband is active-duty military, and at the time he was stationed at the unit whose job it was to handle the middle-east areas. No, I didn't know who it was that did this horrible thing, but I knew that we were about to ramp things up in a major way regardless.

Then, the next thing I knew I started worrying about all the people we know that work at the Pentagon when the third plane hit. I spent the next week checking the deceased lists, hoping and praying I would not see a familiar name.

My heart was breaking for all the devastation that was going on. Every story made me cry. I could hardly turn off the TV.

The next few weeks were a blur, and the next thing I knew it was time for my husband to take off for Kuwait for who knows how long. We had moved to GA to get ready to retire, and now instead of starting a job search we were spending months world's apart with no end in sight.

I could go on and on and on about how that one day has changed my life and the world, but we all know - we all have our own stories of change. And we also have more lost lives to mourn as each soldier, marine or airman loses his life fighting for our freedom.

 

[KarenC]

I work in the financial services industry too, and almost always know exactly what is going on. I remember most significant events by how the market reacted to them. But for much of the morning of September 11, I was clueless.

We spent the summer of 2001 doing several home improvement projects. On September 11, we were having our house painted on the outside. I waited for the painters before I went to work--wanted to make sure they knew the house was cream and the door was green, not the other way around! I was going to dash for the train as soon as I could so I didn't have the TV or radio on.

When the painters came, I opened the door and talked to them about the plans for the day. The woman in charge asked me "did you hear?" I said "no". She said "it's terrible--they bombed the World Trade Center and the Pentagon--it's terrible, it's terrible!" Needless to say, I turned on the TV.

The painters were all from Eastern Europe--Russian, I think. They were so shocked, but they painted my house. We still had our flag up from Labor Day and I will always remember one image from that day. While they'd taken everything else off my house and placed it in the lawn, they left our flag hanging from the overhang of our front porch. When it came time to paint that area, one painter held the flag while another painted. The guy holding the flag continued to hold it while the paint dried to the touch. I couldn't imagine how they felt, coming here for freedom, and being here for that tragedy.

My office evacuated--our New York office was in the north tower--so I didn't go into work. In fact, we didn't work for a couple more days while the New York markets regrouped from the attack. I felt like a caged animal all day.

While I knew at least 5 people who died that day, my uncle who worked just two floors below where the plane struck the North tower and my brother who lives in Manhatten were both safe.

 

[crazelion]

I was reading a letter from my cousins that will be put out my aunt's and uncle home where I live all my life. I just got sent from work because of September 11 and went to a the mailbox and found the letter. These people were suppose to family and treat family that was aweful. Make it so bad I was the one that took care until she die.

I kept repeating a old saying to myself That God does not like ugliness.

I got my but in gear and start house hunting and found a awesome 3 bedroom all brick home for 65,000 in a good neigborhood.

It has been a struggle to pay for the house. It does feel good owning your own home.



Fast Forward three years.

My cousin wife is on her death bed and only 20 days to live. I did not expect it happen that fast. I don't wish nothing bad happen to anybody. But I don't feel any remorse.

 

[Pooh93]

I still cry over 9/11 and think I always will. I was at work and all I wanted to do was come home, get my kids and hold them close. I tried to shelter my oldest dd (she was 5 at the time) from the TV, but she did end up seeing the plane fly into the building and I remember she kept saying..."I don't think that plane meant to do that mom. I think it was an accident." If only that had been true.

 

[jwsqrdplus2]

I was 34 weeks pregnant with DD2, and I spent a lot of that day at work staring at the TV and my computer in utter disbelief with my arms wrapped around my baby (belly).

DH and I are both military. He is a pilot and was home when everything started since they were night flying that week. He called me and told me about the first aircraft hitting the WTC. Then the second one hit. When the one hit the Pentagon, I called him on his cell and told him. He was on his way into work. I remember these words vividly, "I don't know when I'll see you again." We worked across the street from each other, but we did not see each other for another 5 days due to security and schedules. He even got to escort Air Force 1 a couple of times. Pretty intense times for us.

My OB even asked if DH was going to have to deploy because of 9-11. He did end up deploying about 4 weeks after DD2 was born, but my OB told me that once I hit 36 weeks, she would take the baby so DH could be there if it came to that.

 

[Growin'upDisney]

Rick - I cannot even imagine what it must have been like to have been so close to it. Your words were beautiful and you articulated your feelings very well.

Being on the west coast I was still in bed when my mom called from her cell phone on her way to work to say that the WTC had been hit. Thinking back now I cannot remember if she called after the first or second plane. We have all seen the footage so many times it's hard to discern what we saw that day and was replayed over the next several weeks.

But I have to believe it was after the second that she called becasue I think instinctively I would remember it unfolding in real time. I had taken the CA BAR exam in late July and had taken the month of August off as a mental break much the way Rick describes his summer as a bump on a log. In early September I was just getting into the "hunt" for a job.

So I am still asleep when she calls and says the radio is saying we are under a terrorist attack and that NYC is the target. I switch on the TV and the images are unimagineable. I am reading the 9/11 Commission Report now and it states that neither the FAA or NORAD had ever planned for an attack of this nature - it was a contingency no one had ever fathomed to plan for. If the brightest "defense" minds in the country couldn't anticipate it - how could we as average Americans comprehend what was happening?

I quickly called my husband who was working in a high rise building very near the flight path to a large local airport. Thinking back now it was such a remote possibility that he was in danger - but my knee jerk reaction was to tell him to run out of the building. They sent them home a few hours later.

In those few hours I watched the first tower fall - I still remember Matt Lauer's description as they were watching the live helicopter footage. He thought a chunk of the building was falling off. It took about 5 seconds for him to realize the entire builsing was falling. I still get goosbumps thinking about it.

Then the second, the pentagon, a remote field in Pennsylvania. All I remember thinking ws OMG when is this going to stop. When DH got home I held him close and we watched the TV nearly all day. I couldn't not watch.

The images and TV coverage we relentless and troubling. For the next few months I hardly slept at all. I still didn't have a job - and when I would try to lay down to go to sleep I just couldn't fall asleep. Our house is directly below the flight path of both the San Francisco and Oakland Airports and Moffit Field Military base (when commercial air traffic had ceased - we still had huge transport planes flying over our house). Planes flew by constantly until 12am or so. Every time one sounded low my heart would race and I would fear the worst. I literally would stay up until 2 or 3am, until I couldn't stay awake any longer and the flights slowed to intermittent intervals.

I believe I suffered from grief and anxiety and I no longer felt safe. Although I knew no one directly who died, I went to the same University as a passenger on the plane that went down in Pennsylvania. But I grieved for those who lost loved ones. The absolute hardest part was watching the coverage where people had the flyers of missing loved ones and were pleading with people to call certain numbers if they had seen them. I weep now at the thought of "losing" someone I cared about like that.

My grandmother was set ot fly to Spain on Sept.17th. She cancelled because planes were still ground up to the day before. My mom and step father had long since had a trip planned to NYC and DC leaving October 11th. While they thought about cancelling they heard what Rudy Guliani said "Come to New York" and they did. The admit it was hard but are so grateful they went. They have been back since and admit that NY was a different place the second time around - back to the honking horns, the frantic pace, the loud arguments, etc.

But we must never forget what transpired on that fateful day.

Thanks, Rick - I am sure whatever charity you choose will be most deserving.

 

[Maleficent13]

I was at work, participating in an online billing seminar. A whisper started across one of the rooms, and all my employees got very loud. I turned around to tell them to hush, and one of them said "A plane hit the WTC". I disconnected the computer and we huddled around the radio.

There was speculation that a plane (the one that eventually crashed in PA) was headed to Cleveland. They had grounded "suspicious" planes at Hopkins. One of my employees became hysterical; her mother had left for MCO that morning out of Cleveland. She rushed out of the building and we all prayed for her.

I called my then-husband; he worked nights and was sound asleep. I yelled in the machine for him to wake up and turn on the TV. He saw the second tower fall.

I let those who wanted to leave go; but most of us wanted to stay and support each other. We sat, desperately trying to log onto news sites and clinging to the radio reports, which were unreliable at best.

The weeks that followed I remember as numb. Mom and I had a girls trip to WDW planned for two weeks after; we debated right up until the last minute and finally decided to go. We left the night of the celebrity broadcast and listened to it as we drove down.

WDW was a ghost town. Our first morning there, the flags were raised from half-mast. The president of WDW performed this ceremony at MK, and the Voices of America sang "America the Beautiful" and the "Star Spangled Banner". Everyone in the park was there; but that was only maybe 50 people. We all wept openly. All week long we talked with CMs about our experiences; everyone wanted to talk.

I didn't lose anyone in the disaster, thank goodness. I will never forget the feeling of loss and shock though.

KarenC, your story about your painters and the flag made me cry.

 

[HollyJoy]

September 11, I was driving my oldest daughter (then 4 years old) to her very first dance class. For some reason, I didn't have the radio on like I usually did, but something told me to turn it on. I did, and the rest is history. We just sat there in the parkinglot, stunned. I quickly called my DH and begged him not to go to work (he works for NASA).

 

[huey duey & luey]

I was at work in a school on Staten Island (new yorK). It was actually my first day back I had in vitro 1 week prior and had been off work. Someone came into my room to tell us that a plane had hit, I then ran to my friend's room as her dh worked in the North tower. She was frantically trying to reach him and couldnt get through, I tried to call my dh in NJ and couldnt get through. I called my mom to ask about my bil (world trade 7) and my aunt who worked in the south tower. Obviously we couldnt reach anyone. It was such chaos at the school,parents started coming to pick up their kids. All the bridges were closed. Finally at around 2 oclock the Nj bound bridges were reopened and my principal let us all leave. I was so releaved to be home. It was impossible to reach anyone on the phone so I kept IMing my mom. My Bil was safe and so was my aunt. Living in the tristate area the sheer panic continyed for days. The school were closed on the 12th. I was on my way to work on the 13th and they closed the bridge then staten island had a lockdown. It was a scary scary time. I also lost 3 friends that day (2 firefighters). I really hope we never have to live through something like that again.
Tara

 

[WDWAurora]

While I didn't experience the fear of losing someone I was close to, it was a big day...I was a sophomore in college, and I had an 8am class that I despised. As soon as it let out every Tuesday, I went to work across campus writing parking tickets (I know, I know). Well, I got out that day and went out the back entrance to my building, since it was where deliveries, service vehicles, etc. came in and it was nice and quiet, not to mention closer to the bus stop I used to get across campus. When I came down the stairs, there was a university van parked right outside (not at all unusual) but there was a man, who I can still see clearly now in my head, and he came from the van, leaving the door open and radio blaring, grabbed my arm and pulled me over near the van (I wasn't scared or anything, he was talking) and he kept saying "They bombed it. They bombed the towers. They bombed the World Trade Center." I just couldn't believe it. I stood there with this stranger, holding arms, probably holding each other up, hearing this news that just didn't seem possible. I knew I should go on to work, simply out of obligation, so I decided to walk rather than take the bus, I just didn't want to tell everyone on the bus for the first time. I called my boyfriend and woke him up to tell him. He came outside his dorm (on my route to work) and hugged me and walked me part of the way. When I got to work, we watched the news on the world's tiniest tv, and that's where I saw the second plane (live) hit. I didn't know what to do. I got my ticket writing equipment, but I can assure you I did no work that day, I just sat with some of the others and we tried to make sense of what was going on. My teacher for class that afternoon still held class (can you believe that? It was psychology for crying out loud, she should've KNOWN nobody could pay attention) and I went, but it was hard. All I could do was watch news. I remained terrified to go to football games (for some reason I thought the stadium would be a likely target) and could only stay for a little at the beginning. We honored an alumnus at one game who had pulled several people out of the building on his way out...It was a very touching story and I'm glad we honored him as we did. While it didn't even begin to acknowledge the significance of what he did, it was what we could do...Ugh...I remember like it was yesterday.