Photo by Eva Doyle from National September 11 Memorial & Museum
An Afternoon Event
September 11thwill always be an afternoon event for me. We were living in Germany, our first overseas assignment. It was 3:00pm there, and I had an hour left in my workday. I was working as a help desk / system administrator, and someone popped their head into our office, a common occurrence. I was just hoping there was no big emergency we had to take care of, since my brain starts to shut down around that time in the afternoon.
The person said, “Hey, a plane just flew into the World Trade Center.” My first thought was a little Cessna. Perhaps a pilot had had a heart attack.
A Plane? You Mean a Cessna?
“A plane?” said someone else in my office.
“Yeah, a 737. CNN has it on down the hall.”
I couldn’t believe it. A large passenger jet? Why in the world would it be flying that low? I was sure the person must have misunderstood or exaggerated.
Couldn’t Believe It
I walked down the hall to the office where CNN was on a television. I watched the coverage in horror. I just couldn’t believe it. Then I saw a second plane hit and a tower tumble, and I felt sick to my stomach. I couldn’t stop shaking. Then there was the news that the Pentagon had been hit. People were doing this deliberately. If this were a Hollywood movie, I wouldn’t bother watching something with such a preposterous plot.
We started hearing all kinds of rumors about our base closing and locking down, and I wanted to get home before that happened. My husband and I decided to leave work immediately.
I knew I needed gas, so I drove to the PX gas station. I didn’t wait for my change, and I forgot to put my gas cap back, losing it somewhere on the road. I went home and started listening to the news on the internet, over our slow creaky modem. There was no Facebook or Twitter then. I was e-mailing friends and family, checking in on them.
The Firemen. The Sacrifice.
My heart sank reading about the firemen and their terrible loss of life. My husband asked me not to tell him any more details. It was such a horrible day, and we were so far away.
But every year, I remember. I think back on that day and the ones that followed. I finally got to the museum last year, and spent a couple of hours there and at the memorial.
Every year, I remember. I remember the bravery of those first responders, and I hope that we, as a country, are living up to their sacrifice.
Every year, I remember.
