During World War II, President Franklin D. Roosevelt (FDR) called Japan’s surprise attack on the Pearl Harbor naval base in Honolulu, Hawaii: “A date which will live in infamy.”
The same can be said of 9/11. I vividly recall that nightmarish day.
- What about you? Please share your story in the comment section below…
Do you remember where you were during the morning of September 11, 2001, when planes struck the World Trade Center and the Pentagon?
I was working in downtown Washington, DC, at the headquarters of the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC), where I was a career media spokesman and communications advisor for the agency.
The EEOC’s New York District Office was located in an auxiliary building of the World Trade Center complex. It likewise crumbled to the ground later that afternoon.
That morning in Washington, DC, some of my co-workers were watching the live newscasts after the first plane struck the Twin Towers. Everyone thought this was a terrible accident at first, even the live newscasters.
The disturbing scene of billowing smoke high above the skyline of lower Manhattan looked like the aftermath of a strong bomb blast. How could this have happened, we all wondered?
After the second plane hit the second tower it was obvious this was no accident — far from it.
Rather, it was the worst attack on the American homeland since the morning of Sunday, December 7, 1941, when the Imperial Japanese Navy Air Service conducted a massive aerial bombardment against Pearl Harbor, as noted above.
The terrorist assault on 9/11 left America in a state of shock, disarray and disbelief, similar to the attack on Pearl Harbor which drew the United States — then a neutral power — into the second World War.
Similarly, the 9/11 attacks drew America into major wars in Iraq and Afghanistan (the latter of which officially ended on August 30, 2021).
What was your personal experience when you learned of the 9/11 tragedy? Where were you, and what did you do?
Fleeing the Nation’s Capital
My downtown office building at EEOC headquarters — then on the corner of 18th and L Streets, NW — was only several blocks from the White House and a few miles from the Pentagon.
The EEOC evacuated the building the morning of 9/11 after the third plane struck the western side of the Pentagon at 9:37. Then rumors spread about other commercial jetliners targeting the nation’s capital.
U.S. airspace was shut down at 9:45 a.m. — as fear spread among Washingtonians like wildfire. Countless numbers of people were in a state of panic.
This was our collective worst nightmare come true: America was under attack, including Washington, DC.
At 10:03 a.m. terrorists crashed another plane into a field in Shanksville, Pennsylvania, as some heroic passengers confronted the hijackers in a brave show of resistance while in flight, after learning of the strikes on the Twin Towers and the Pentagon. That plane was reportedly targeting the U.S. Capitol Building or the White House.
I contacted my wife after the second plane hit tower 2 of the WTC. I told her I was okay and on my way home. I suggested that she leave her job in Rockville, Maryland, and meet me at the apartment.
Amid all of the uncertainty and pandemonium, I chose to flee on foot rather than risk taking public transportation. I thought the mass transit system could likewise be targeted.
I quickly walked to Massachusetts Avenue and down Embassy Row until I arrived on Wisconsin Avenue at the National Cathedral — which, coincidently, held a memorial service today paying tribute to the first responders killed on 9/11.
I recall the gridlocked traffic as I fled Washington DC. Cars were honking, drivers were cursing, and fender benders were occurring as people desperately tried to escape from the city. I was able to finally hail a taxi and get to my apartment in Chevy Chase, on the Maryland side (which borders and extends into the nation’s capital).
Shortly thereafter my wife arrived home too.
I persistently tried to contact my friends and family in New York City and surrounding areas, but the phone lines were all jammed. Ditto that for emails, as the internet wasn’t properly working.
Sound of Jetfighters
That night I finally connected with a high school buddy on Long Island.
Back at home, I heard the eerie sound of fighter jets patrolling the skies over the Washington-area.
America was now at war against the terrorist enemy perpetrators. Nothing would ever be the same — not even 20-years later, as we reflect on that historically tragic day.
Our collective emotional and mental wounds still have not healed. Deep scars remain in the American consciousness.
The pain of 9/11 for millions of Americans is everlasting.
DBG
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is the final post in a 3-part series in observance of the 20th anniversary of September 11.
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This post was previously published on Change Becomes You.
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