In September of 2001, I was at the bottom of a new cycle in life. My online business had failed and I was reqrouping, planning to relocate and start a new life. I was just getting enough of my health back after battling Chronic Fatigue Syndrome that I felt, with some lifestyle changes, I could function productively.
I had sold off almost everything and stored the rest in my sister's and brother's sheds. On the morning of 9/11 I had no definite plan and no home of my own. My daughter Andi had also decided to make some changes, go after a dream, and we spent the night on a couch and recliner in my brother's house. We were helping my sister-in-law with her girls while my brother was out of town.
I woke up at five minutes before 7 am. I was surprised that there had been no movement upstairs, as it was a school day. I hollered at my sister-in-law to get up, and turned on the Today show. Being on the west coast, we had a tape-delayed edition of the morning news.
The TV came on to a shot of smoke pouring from one tower of the World Trade Center. I thought is was file footage from the bombing years before, but couldn't find that comforting word "file" in any corner of the screen. "Mary?" I called out again. "Turn on the TV!"
My brother called from San Francisco to be sure we were watching. He, my sister-in-law and I talked for a few minutes, contemplating the reality that one of the buildings had been targeted. Then we tried to get our days moving.
My nieces ate breakfast, then Sarah, who was seven or so, went back upstairs to her Mom. Madi, who was nine, sat on the floor next to me. Madison is a very introspective child, very serious, way too much like me in many ways! We watched together as the second plane filled the screen and flew into the second tower. Shrapnel exploded outward. Madi understood there were people on the plane and in the building.
"Do you think the people died?" she asked. I explained that the stuff flying through the sky was parts of the plane and building, and that people were "softer" than either. She silently watched for a bit more.
"Would you be sad if I died?"
I took a deep breath and tried to swallow the tears that sprang at the thought. Madi and I had discovered in the past how silly I am when talking about sad things, and that my tears bring on hers. I took another deep breath.
"I can't even imagine how sad I would be if anything ever happened to you girls or my own. It would hurt too much! Your mom and dad would be destroyed by the pain of losing you." My voice wavered hard. "I hope I die before any of you kids, I don't ever want to feel that sad."
Somewhere in all of this, word came out that the Pentagon had also been hit. My sister-in-law, Mary, remembered her brother had been scheduled to work there that week. She had no clue when he was due to return home. She paced the upstairs with a phone to her ear, trying to reach her parents or brother.
My nieces had to get ready for school. We didn't realize that they had heard the concern about their uncle. Madi told me later that she spent much of the day at school crying in fear for her uncle, not knowing we had found him safe.
In a weird twist of fate, my brother was scheduled to meet with two men who worked in one of the towers, a few days after the event. He never learned if those men had survived or not, with the businesses rescheduling and getting the work done some other way.
Andi's father, my ex-husband, is a firefighter, so it was especially hard on her to hear how many firefighters and peace officers had been in the buildings when they fell. She and I left for a road trip within a day or two of 9/11, heading toward the Midwest to see where I would choose to settle.
I had taken a side route through the Inland Empire outside L.A., which led us down the old Route 66. We hit some horrible traffic and began to grumble until we got closer to the intersection. The community fire department was having a "boot brigade", running from car to car holding out a fireman's boot to fill with spare change. The proceeds would go to the NYFD.
Our money for the trip was almost non-existent, yet we found change to throw in that boot and all the others to come that week. It seemed to calm Andi some.
The road trip showed us so much about the people who made America what it is. Marquees at truckstops signs proclaimed God Bless the USA and similar sentiments, something rarely seen before. Something sadder appeared on hotel marquees. "American Owned".
As a people we were suddenly less tolerant of immigrants. In those immediate days and weeks, we were also collectively holding our breath to see what happened to our economy. I found the area I wanted to settle in, but when I moved to southwest Missouri two weeks after the towers fell, there was no work to be found.
In an area that relied strongly on the trucking industry, businesses were in a "wait and see" mode. I was lucky to finally find a position in a truck stop a few weeks later.
I watched the nation heal as I did my own healing. I was working fulltime outside the home for the first time in years. As a nation we slowly began to trust in our security again. I learned to trust my body enough to tell me when to slow down.
Within a few years, our nation became almost complacent again, life becoming business as usual. I finally found an office job that didn't drain me. I took for granted that I could make it through a work week and have energy enough to clean house on my days off. We finally trusted, to some extent, our government's ability to thwart any new terror attempts. I trusted my ability to take care of myself.
As the calendar creeps toward the fifth anniversary of that day that is etched in my being, I have returned to California to live. I found a job that uses my skills and abilities and will pay enough to support me. As we still have security measures to protect our future, I have minor symptoms I watch for that tell me I have overdone.
I have a new strength through it all. I don't know what lies ahead for myself or our world, but I know it'll all work out as it is supposed to. New threats to our security and flair ups of the warning tremors of my illness no longer bring panic attacks and hours of worry. We will survive.
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Comments: 21
As far as safety is concerned, I don't feel any different as a result of that day unless you count feeling more afraid of my own government. The day that changed everything for me was the day the Supreme Court destroyed everything I believed about my security.
Thank you
Because the tragedy represents the paradigm shift of this millenium, many people were compelled to make life changes. I had a secure Postal job five years ago, but couldn't imagine maintaining allegiance to a souless government agency. I was back in school within the year. Since then, I feel like my new profession offers me a genuine opportunity to make a difference in the emerging sensibility of those who will continue to be impacted by Sept. 11, 2001 long after I've left the planet.
I was an administrative assistant at a church on that ugly morning in 2001. There was a women's group crafting in a downstairs classroom, and a call came in for one of them, that there was something terrible on the news. We got a television working for the women, but I had to man the phone upstairs.
The pastor of the church immediately had me throw open the doors of the church, and prepared a prayer service. I worked there, but was not a member of that church -- but when the service began, I sat in to hear this man talk. He was (is?) an amazing orator, and I wish everyone could have heard what he said that day. All I can remember was the phrase "We are not of that dust" -- meaning we must not become the same as the terrorists.
I also remember that I was told to put a message on the sign out front that all were welcome to come in and pray. He adamantly refused to include the words "God bless America" on the sign, and was furious that so many were using that phrase all of a sudden when God had been so unwelcome everywhere right up until that morning.
Mostly, I remember the day as if someone found a loose thread on the fabric of the country and started the whole thing unravelling.
You write a wonderful article.