911

Seven years ago today I was driving back from George Mason University in the morning and randomly decided to change the radio station during a good country song. It was kind of an odd experience. A reporter was yelling something about an airplane that had hit one of the twin towers in New York. The guy that was interviewing him from the radio station tried to calm him down a bit, and like me, acted like the reporter was overreacting to this little accident. At that point they didn't know if it was a puddle jumper or something bigger.

While listening to this I had driven by the Pentagon and was parking my car at my apartment building in Pentagon City. When I walked up to the front entrance, I had a powerful feeling that I would remember the day for the rest of my life. The feeling stayed with me for a few moments and then I hurried upstairs to put on my tennis shoes to take my morning walk - past the newly renovated side of the Pentagon.

While I was putting on my tennis shoes, I decided to turn on the TV just to see if they were talking about the small airplane that had hit the twin towers. To my surprise, it was worse than I expected. Huge airplane, massive destruction, and a general feeling that I was watching a movie clip instead of something that was actually real. It held my attention for a long fifteen minutes and so I went into my room to check my email quickly before leaving on my walk. This is when I was working virtually and so my office was my bedroom. I was living on the 12th floor of an apartment facing that side of the Pentagon.

Anyway, I had just turned my back to the computer when I heard a bomb sound and I turned and looked out the shaking windows toward Washington, DC. I didn't see anything for a few seconds except for a small ball of fire which quickly turned into a towering pillar of smoke. I called my boyfriend and then my friend Shirley. She was working in the National Press Club building at the time. Shirley asked me to take a couple of pictures of the crash. This was the 2nd picture I took. I'm glad she told me to do so because I would have just stood there staring.

That day turned into something that I don't remember clearly. I talked with a couple of people on the phone, but found out later that many others were trying to call me without being able to get through. Many friends were caught up on Capital Hill or elsewhere in the city and general gridlock prevailed. We had email trains going around our ward asking if everyone was OK and accounted for and we later found out that one man that worked in the Pentagon was missing. Every airplane (most were FEMA planes by the end of the day) literally made traffic stop and people turn their heads to the sky paralyzed by the feeling that another crash would occur. It would be that way the next week while the National airport stayed closed to airplane traffic.

The oddest thing about the day for me was that I was completely paralyzed toward meaningful action. I couldn't stop looking out the window, pacing the house, watching the TV, and wondering what to do, etc. I was doing EXACTLY what I had seen people do in movies and had silently yelled at them to stop hanging around the danger and get away from whatever it was that would hurt them. It was this weird feeling of feeling like I must leave, but that I must see the next disaster happen. Over the next few months (or even years) I think I felt what post-traumatic stress really is and how it can impact day-to-day life. It didn't help that we had the snipper around the area the next year which was even more terrifying on a day-to-day basis than the 911 attacks. We had often joked that we either lived in the safest or most dangerous spot in the world. That day we found out what was more likely.

Many of my friends were in DC and New York City. My brother in law worked in New York City at the time and was part of the throngs that walked over to New Jersey trying to find a way home. I don't think he made it home until that evening, but he did make it home. Some of my friends have had the nightmare of working in high rises near the twin towers and could see the expressions on the faces of those falling to their death hundreds of feet below. It must be a terrifying experience to remember.

It was a horrible day for so many people. So many lost and for no good reason. Through all the sadness, however, there were many miracles. Trains not working properly leading into New York that day causing major delays. People staying home for the first day of school to take pictures and be as a family. People at the Pentagon that randomly left that wing to go get a snack, do an errand or even get a drink at a distant drinking fountain. I experienced my own little miracle as the timing would have placed me squarely at that area of the Pentagon if I hadn't been sidetracked by the news. It still kind of gives me chills to think about it.

Part of me is still a little numb towards the experience. I don't understand it. I haven't fully felt it's impact seven years later. I even sat at the home of Grady ? to answer media calls while his wife went through the ordeal of finding out if her husband was alive or dead in the Pentagon. He worked there and had a promising future awaiting him. He died.

I am grateful that it forced so many of us to think about our lives, or liberties and our beliefs. It instigated many people into action and into reshaping their priorities and their lives. Like so many other days in our lives (church, Christmas, Easter, birthdays, the New Year, difficult or joyous events, etc.) it is a good time to reflect on blessings and areas to improve. A time of gratitude.

A respectful appreciation for those that passed on, hats off to those that persevere through the pain, and for the rest of us may we remember and live as if it is our last day to contribute on this planet.

Pre-digital era pictures of that week