Open Discussion:
What’s your 9/11 story?
We all have our own 9/11 story. For all too many it’s the loss of a loved one in the attacks, or the memory of fleeing a burning building, or frantically trying to get ahold of a loved one who may have been on a flight or in the World Trade Center or the Pentagon.
But even for the rest of us—those of us who were home watching the news on television and saw the Breaking News graphic cut into our favorite morning TV show, or those of us who slept through the earliest news and woke up to see that our whole world had changed while we were sleeping—even we have our stories and may have been changed by that day.
This space is for you to tell your 9/11 stories, big and small, grand and simple, tragic and hopeful… However it happened to you, you’re welcome to share it here.
What’s your 9/11 story? Did the attacks and response of the heroes of that day change you in any way?
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My 9/11 story:
I was standing in Gerald Ford Airport headed back to Los Angeles from my small Midwestern hometown. As I lined up early to board my flight, suddenly all gate doors were bolted except the ones thrown open with people hustling through them, off their flights. We, the passengers, moved like a pack across the small terminal to the coffee shop with a TV, where we watched the first tower in the World Trade Center burn, small objects dropping from the highest windows. We asked one another, all strangers, “What is falling?” and then gasped as another stranger said, “They’re bodies. People are jumping.”
My mother had dropped me, and swung back around to get me again from the airport. When I got in the car, she was pale. “I can’t reach your brother. No one’s cell phones will work.” We knew he could be one of two places – working in the Pentagon or in New York City, where he took a subway under WTC every day on his way to Columbia for his graduate program.
We located him, taking cover in a building on Columbia’s campus, and we were lucky (blessed, fortunate, whatever you say) to be one of the families who didn’t lose anyone in the attacks.
But I have this visual memory of standing in my parents’ grassy back yard and staring up at the sky, which is impossibly large in the Midwest—no mountains to shorten the panorama of the blue dome—and telling the 10 year old neighbor boy that he should remember what this looked like, the empty sky. He asked me why, and I explained that he’d probably never again in his lifetime see this patch of sky, where planes from Chicago crossed paths with those from Milwaukee, without a single airplane or vapor trail in it.
Or so we can hope.
Our thoughts are with the loved ones of the victims and survivors of the 9/11 attacks.
Also watch a collection of international news footage of the events of 9/11 on The Good Feed Blog
Image of sparse clouds in blue sky courtesy of Shutterstock
About Joanna Schroeder
My sister called to wake me up that morning after both towers had already collapsed, and I remember initially thinking she must be confused because when I turned on the tv to catch up, the first images I saw were of the towers burning but still standing. Many, many people suffered a lot more on that day than I did, but my personal painful twist was that it happened shortly after I had separated from my first wife and moved into an apartment alone, so I didn’t really have anyone to go through it with in person. Most of my emotion and discussion of 9/11 on that and the time shortly after it happened was shared with people online, including a fellow poster on a discussion board who I would eventually meet, date, and marry. She turned out to be at least two degrees removed from knowing anyone killed in the attacks, but she could see the smoke from the towers from where she lived in NJ.
One of the thoughts I remember having as I watched scenes of devastation on TV, and it still comes up especially when I see street-level footage of the towers collapsing was that for once, massive destruction looked like it does in the movies, and not just exaggerated special effects. It’s not an insightful or profound thought, but I think it reflexively whenever I see the flames and billowing smoke.
I was working that morning in downtown Boston and covering the front desk for an absent coworker. I remember the confusion, the horror and how a lot of the skyscrapers in the area had been evacuated for fear that it would be happening again.
I just need to leave this here: http://nielsenhayden.com/110.html
I was in my final year of university in Toronto and we had this old TV that used to turn off on its own at least every hour or so. There was no remote, so we kept a poking stick behind the couch so we could turn the TV back on without getting up. My girlfriend phoned me and told me to put the TV on, and I woke my roommates up. We watched the second tower get hit and thought we were watching a replay of the first collision before we realized what was happening. We watched from the sofa all day. Our condo was right between city hall and the US embassy. In the early afternoon a pipe ruptured under city hall and steam was billowing out of the surrounding grates like smoke and everyone thought there had been an attack.
We were still watching the coverage (and probably still in our gitch) well into the evening when my roommate turned to us and pointed out that that stupid TV hadn’t turned itself off once all day.
I was at my first day back at work following a collapsed lung and emergency medical treatment 7 days before. I was in a lot of pain and couldn’t really do the job (waitressing) so was mainly hanging around on limited duties. Some time after lunch people began to come in and tell us a plane had hit the world trade centre. I had never heard of the WTC. I was not really sure how this was a much bigger deal than any other plane crash. As the other staff nipped to the shop next door to watch their television for a few moments, in sort of shifts, I remained on my chair at the till, polishing forks. At 4pm my time (11am NY time) I finished my shift and again in much pain walked to collect my baby from her nursery and get the bus home. In hindsight I really wasn’t well enough to be there. Once home I fed baby, bathed her, put her to bed and called my friend Paddy to complain about what a crap day it had been. Paddy’s reaction blew me clean away, he said how could I even think of myself at a time like this and did I not realise that (in his words) “we are on the verge of fucking world war three Sarah, have you not turned on the fucking TV?” I put on the TV and the horrible reality of how much the world had changed between lunch time and dinner time began to sink in at last.
I will never forget 9/11 because it was the birthday of my adoptive mom. I woke-up happy planning to celebrate her birthday by going to church and offer a candle as her memorial for the repose of her soul. My plan was to go to church then buy a cake to share with my family so as to celebrate her memory. As I always listen to news so I turned the TV on and lo and behold what was showing was the plane hitting the first tower then another plane hitting the second tower. I was shocked and became weak when the tower started crumbling down. My happiness turn to sorrow seeing people jumping out of the windows, the fire, the thick clouds of smoke and soot. In my mind again I saw
my aunt being loweredd down to be buried and I felt sad and so bad, again I became a child seeing death who took a loved one away from me. That day made an experience I have had as a child surfaced. It felt like a wound that healed a long time ago was again re-opened and
hurting me so deeply. Ever since that day every year my adoptive mom birthday come there is pain and sadness that comes and I cannot help but cry.
My 9/11
There have been so many tribute pictures posted today in remembrance of this awful day 11 years ago. I too, have vivid memories of that day. I was sleeping and was awaken to the front door busting open and Johnathan’s dad yelling hysterically that planes hit the World Trade Center. I didn’t know what the World Trade Center was or even where it was located. I was 20 years old. Johnathan was my only child at the time. I looked over at him still sleeping peacefully on the bed. I frantically snatched him up and ran out the front door without ever saying one word to his dad. I buckled him into the front seat of my car so he would be close to me disregarding all safety concerns. I remember driving and holding my sons little hand while he slept, praying and watching the sky. I thought at any moment bombs were going to be dropped all across the United States I didn’t think the attacked were limited to the eastern United States. I prayed that we wouldn’t receive our bomb until I had reached my destination, the one place I wanted to be if it was going to happen. I didn’t turn on the radio. I was scared. I didn’t want to hear what was going on. That was the longest 15 miles to my parent’s house. The towers collapsed while I was driving to my parent’s house, I was unaware of it because the car was silent other than my prayers and crying. I didn’t answer any calls that came across my cell phone. I didn’t want the reminder, it just amplified my fear. I remember waking my parents and telling them of the news, the urgency of telling them what was happening was uncontrollable. They had to know exactly what had happen and quickly. I needed them to know so they could start praying and knew what to pray for. I was terrified that a nuclear bomb would hit and even if it didn’t immediately kill us, that my little son would not be able to survive the after effects of the bomb. I had read the Hiroshima book in school. I knew the pain in suffering in the aftermath. I feared hospitals would be packed and my son would slowly die in my arms unaware of what even had happened or why.
I needed my dad and mom aware of the situation immediately, I needed them praying. I needed them to contact my brother and make sure he knew the situation, I needed him praying. I needed those that knew how to pray, praying. My son eventually woke up and began his day like he would any other; playing, laughing, and getting into mischief – so unaware of the events that had taken place. To Johnathan it was a great day, he woke up at pa-pa’s house. I envied his oblivion.
Unfortunately, Johnathan has grown out of the oblivious stage and is quite aware of the events that took place that day. He knows the stories of heroes that walked into towers knowing the risk and knowing their responsibilities to their own families, and never walked back out. He knows the loss. Yet in the midst of sorrow, death, and terror Johnathan has seen countless footage and heard many stories of a country that has come together; embracing each other, helping each other, leaning on each other. Not just family helping family but strangers helping strangers. I pray that he has learned that hatred is reckless, yet love is cautious –it guards what we value as sacred and at the same time extends comfort or a helping hand to a total stranger in need.
Though many will disagree, I will sit with my two oldest children and we will watch the 9/11 Memorial DVD we watch every year. It was one of the first ones made after the attacks when the reactions were still so fresh. It does not show all the heart breaking images of the people falling from building. But it does show all the chaos, all the confusion, all the fear. I know it was a big debate on whether or not to let children view the footage from that day. But when my kids became of age to where they could understand what happen I shared it with them if they chose to view it. When Ethan becomes the age to where he understands the events I will share it with him. People allow their children to view horror movies and allow those images to be embedded in their heads at much younger ages. But that’s ok, right, because it’s not real? I guess I think the opposite. I do not want my kids to have unnecessary fears, or be desensitized to reality. There is enough evil in the world with out adding Hollywood’s version to their minds. To me it is important that my children are aware of what happen and what our nation went through and how they coped with it.
I try to look at computer generated or photo shopped images of the towers still standing with motivational words typed on it, but sometimes I think I would rather see it for what is now. Someone posted last night a picture the silhouette of a cat sitting in a tree and it said In Memory of September 11 th , 2001, I automatically wanted to ask, how is a cat in a tree symbolic to 9/11? The cat is not reminiscing about 9/11? The tree is not standing where the towers once stood? Do we just find a cute picture and type what we want on it to give us happy thoughts about 9/11? Because I don’t remember the cat in the tree. I remember seeing a tower burning. I remember seeing a second plane hit the second tower. I remember hearing people screaming, seeing them waving clothes from the windows of floors that were in a tower that was burning above them, their windows too high up to reach with a ladder and to close to the fire to reach by helicopter. I remember the seeing the horrific image of people falling from the building out of fear of burning alive. I remember seeing the smoke and ash filled city. I remember seeing footage of the towers imploding and falling to the ground. I remember hearing the terrible screams of bystanders on the ground watching. I remember seeing people searching frantically for their loved ones. I remember seeing emergency responders in every field working diligently to save as many lives as possible. I remember the pictures of the Pentagon with an airplane lodged into it. I remember the images of the crashed plane in Pennsylvania. I remember the fear the wondering what every passenger on every plane must have went through in those final moments. I remember my heart fell and I felt I couldn’t breathe when I saw the smoke and ash subside enough and to see there were no more towers, no more people waving their clothes, no more rescue member coming out of the towers, and more going in –no hope. I remember seeing videos of evil laughing in our faces and proudly taking credit for our devastating loss. I will forever remember the word ‘TERROISM’. I do not remember the cat in tree.
At the moment of impact on Tuesday, September 11, 2001 I was asleep; all was quiet, my son was sleeping beside me. I was in a comfort zone. The collision between terrorist navigated planes and the World Trade Center did not shake the ground I rested on. I didn’t hear the screams of the people in towers, or the sirens of the NYC emergency vehicles. I didn’t smell the smoke or inhale the ashes bellowing through the street of New York City. It didn’t waken me from my physical sleep. But it did awaken a nation from a different slumber and we must stay watchful. We must remember.
It is our responsibility to never forget.
To think that this could never or will never happen again………… is ignorance.
“I head back home and on the way, withdraw cash at from the bank, fill up my tank, and buy 1,000 rounds of rifle ammunition and a dark gray suit. I tell the poor kid at the gas station, that day, that the Bill of Rights is going to take a beating”
http://standup2p.wordpress.com/2012/09/11/9-11-i-had-a-camera-that-day/
Oops broken link
http://standup2p.wordpress.com/2011/09/11/9-11-i-had-a-camera-that-day/
i made a slideshow for Ani Difranco’s WTC Poem. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XLxlW-na5FA
My girlfriend, who I was breaking up with, got up before me, knew before me, but said nothing and only threw a ping-pong ball at me before leaving for work. Then my sister called, “Turn on the television,” she said. My nine year old daughter came out of her bedroom and I said, “Our nation’s been attacked, get ready for school.”
My partner and I had a house to paint high in the Portland hills that day. It was a crystalline day on the west coast too, and the sky looked exactly like the sky at the top of this post. Some Hispanic framers were working across the gulch, and they had their Mexican music up really loud, I remember complaining about it.
At noon I turned on the truck radio, Michael Savage was on, and some woman was screaming, “They’ll kill all of us. “Take a Prozac! “he yelled back at her.
The day started out as just an ordinary day. I had gotten my husband off to work, and our sons off to school and was settling in to watch a documentary that was either just coming on or I had taped the night before, and the phone rang. It was my husband, and he told me a plane had just hit the World Trade Center.
I turned on a morning news show just in time to watch the second plane hit the second tower. It was complete chaos. A plane hit (or had hit) the Pentagon, and another crashed in New Jersey. People were running through the streets, dust and paper were blowing everywhere, and no one knew what might happen next or where else might be attacked.
I… started baking, with the TV playing in the background. I’d planned to make cookies that day, anyway. So I made cookies. Then I think I made banana bread. Then I thought about what else I could make. I’m not sure why. Because it was something I could control? Because it was something I could DO? Who knows? I don’t remember being mad, or scared, or crying, just very numb.
When the kids got home, I turned the TV off. They were in elementary school; they didn’t need to see all of that. There was a note from the school. They had told all the kids what had happened in a general way, but left it to the parents to decide what and how much detail to tell them.
Eventually my husband came home and we had dinner and bedtime and all the usual things. We were lucky enough to be far enough removed from the attacks to go on with our lives relatively unscathed, but it was a long time before things felt normal again.
I remember finding out that the WTC was on fire. Working in an office within viewing distance of the Intercontinental Airport in Houston; I spoke to one of my managers about the horror. The conference room had a TV on and the company employees were allowed to check in on what was happening. It was a numbing attitude that effected our normal daily lives. The office was eerily quiet; and with the airport just miles away; a normal day would be filled with sounds of air traffic buzzing the building constantly. What should have been a beautiful peaceful sound was strange. It was like the world was in a surreal place; not knowing what was happening, who was doing this(?), was it an accident.
Then the WTC began to fall and we knew that the US could fall too. Sadness overcame our fears.
The following year on the anniversary my company had a memorial; we gathered around the flagpole outside and prayed for those that lost their life that day.
My husband and I went to NY to view “Ground Zero” two years later. I have never seen such devastation in my life.
I was at work and my immediate reaction was “Oh crap, and we’ve got a brainless monkey in the White House. We’re going to war, aren’t we?”
Little did I know I was being too optimistic; we not only went to war, we attacked the wrong target!