We all know where we were when it happened. It has become the event that defined our
generation and of course changed how we all live. Here’s my story. It’s not particularly riveting or
heroic. It’s just mine.
September 11, 2001 I was living in the Florida Keys. We had moved there from central New Jersey 3
months before. My girls were in
school. One was in kindergarten and one
was in preschool. I was working in my home
office on some paperwork. I was in a
direct sales business and had a deadline to reach. I had not turned the TV on all morning. Sometime between 9:30 and 10:00 my friend called
from Alabama. She was frantic and astonished that I didn’t understand her
panicked, frenzied ramblings. She kept
saying “We’re under siege, we’re under siege!”
Always the leveled headed person in an emergency I tried to assure her
that couldn’t be the case and she must be misunderstanding something. This is the United States of America. How could some phantom attacker have the
ability to make a direct strike on New York City of all places in broad
daylight. I think it was as unfathomable
to me as it was to most.
Well, of course, I was wrong, wasn’t I? Both towers had
already been hit by then and all the news stations were continuously reporting
the aftermath. My friend and I stayed on the phone together
for a while, I think until her husband beeped through and they decided to meet up
somewhere. They felt a strong need to be
together. I don’t remember contacting my
family or even talking with my husband until that night. Alone in my house, I watched replays of the
planes crashing into the towers and the continuous news coverage. I watched as the towers melted to the
ground. I couldn’t understand how that
could even happen? Those towers were massive.
I don’t remember picking my youngest up from preschool but I
must have because she did come home. I
do remember when my kindergartner came home there was talk at the bus stop that
the teachers had the kids watching the news and told them what was happening. I don’t know if that was true. My daughter’s teacher was a veteran
kindergarten teacher and fully understood how to talk to the children in terms
they could understand. She told them it was
a sad day for America and something terrible happened in NYC. The rest she left up to us parents to handle
as we saw fit. I remember that evening,
my husband, who was in law enforcement, telling me he felt helpless as all his
former colleagues in New Jersey were responding to the attacks. He wanted to be there with them.
I honestly don’t
remember much else from that day. What I
do remember is how life changed. At
first, people were so fearful and confused.
Even in Key West there was panic in the ensuing days. I heard people voicing fears that maybe they’d
attack Key West next because of the Naval Air Station. It seemed like the country was holding its
breath in anticipation of another immediate attack. At the
same time they clung to each other and a unity grew among Americans that
probably had not been present since WWII.
I wonder where it is now.
I’m not sure I took in the gravity of the situation for a
while. I had relatives, friends and
customers in New Jersey but New York seemed far from there too. It wasn’t until about a week later I was
continuing to work as usual and contacted a customer in New Jersey. I had forgotten that her husband was a Port
Authority Police Officer. She told me
they had lost some friends and one was still missing. She was in shock and her daily life was in
turmoil. Then it began to hit me. Life was never going to be the same. I may not have been that unusual in my
response though. This week I attended a
9/11 Memorial Ceremony here in Poland.
One of the Polish speakers commented that when the attacks happened 10
years ago the Poles seemed more emotional than the Americans she knew here. The Americans seemed to want to move on
right way and get back to work. I guess
I was of that vein. I think the Poles,
with their history of wars and struggles for national sovereignty, have more of
a collective understanding of what this attack actually meant. It was so outside of our realm of experience
that we Americans had a hard time processing it.
My kids don’t remember a pre 9/11 life. Bin Laden is dead now but al Qaida lives
on. There will always be some fanatic to
fill the last one’s shoes. A friend from
our last NJ hometown posted a comment on Facebook wondering about the reality
of the recent NYC car bomb threats. How
real were they and should she be more vigilant being that she lived so close to
NYC. I think we should always be
vigilant now, no matter where we live. I
have come to believe that the reality is there is always a threat and we should
never take peace for granted. But, at
the same time, I don’t want to live under a veil of fear either. That wouldn’t be living. I am a risk taker by nature but they are
calculated risks and I don’t foolishly jeopardize my safety or that of my
family. One of the most useful books
I’ve ever read was “The Gift of Fear”
by Gavin De Becker. He teaches us to
follow our intuition and protect yourself as best you can while not shutting
down your life. Being an expat, that
book carries even more weight for me.
I actually have no insightful thoughts to add to the many
that have been written over the last 10 years and especially the last few
weeks. I live in the era to which I have
been born. I have no choice and pining
away for a time of societal innocence is wasted energy. I just know that I have worked hard to create
a life with my husband and family filled with joy and laughter because life is
short. We go on living but we do remember.
We remember where we were, what we saw, how
we felt, and we teach our children to be vigilant but to continue to live to
honor those who didn’t have the chance.
