Reflections, 10 years Later

The morning of September 11, 2001 was a typical one in my house…one spent getting 3 kids ready for school…breakfast, making lunches, dealing with arguments and meltdowns about breakfast and lunches and clothes. At around 8 am, the phone rang. I looked at the caller id, and it was my friend Jessica. Feeling a bit irritated that she was calling me in the midst of school-morning chaos, I pressed “TALK,” and before I had the phone to my ear, I heard her saying, “Turn on the TV! The World Trade Center just got hit by a plane!” I didn’t usually turn the tv on until the kids were ready for school, but I quickly went into the family room and switched it on. Of course, I was in shock, and I must have said “Oh My God!” 20 times in the space of a few minutes. I was horrified thinking of those poor people on the plane and in the building that was hit. “What a tragic, horrific accident, and how could something like that happen,” I remember thinking. Then, as I watched in disbelief, still on the phone, the second plane hit the other tower, and I have no words, even all these years later, to describe how I felt at that moment…the moment when I and the rest of the country realized that this was clearly no accident. Jessica and I stayed on the phone for a long time in stunned silence, but I had to hang up to finish getting everyone ready to get out the door for school, even though I was terrified of sending them to school, while my attention was glued to the television. I was in my bedroom when I saw the report on TV that a plane had also crashed into the Pentagon.

The memories of the timeline of that dreadful morning are pretty blurry. I don’t remember if the the first tower came down before or after I took the kids to school. When I got home, though, I called Jessica back. We had planned to go shopping that morning to buy a gift for our friend Judy who was going to be starting chemotherapy for lymphoma the next day. Another friend was having party that night as a way for everyone to get together and wish Judy well. Jessica and I decided to go shopping anyway, as we had already picked out a sterling silver bracelet for her in the jewelry department at Walmart. It was a Tiffany-style bracelet…chunky silver chain with a heart charm, and we had already made a card and written, “All of your friends are holding you in their hearts.” Wow, strange the details I remember now that I am writing.

Most of the crowd in Walmart that scary morning was gathered around the televisions in the electronics department. That is where we heard the news of the second tower collapsing. It was impossible by that time to not be fearful and speculate as to just how many more planes were out there that were going to crash. I hate to fly anyway, and I swore to myself I would never step onto a plane again.

We bought the bracelet and then spent the rest of the day at my house glued to CNN. I had never even watched CNN until that day, but that was the only channel on my TV for days. We even left it on overnight as we slept. I have so many very vivid memories of that surreal day. Even now, 10 years later, the thoughts and memories are scattered.

*I remember how later that afternoon, after Jessica left to go pick her kids up from school, I took a cup of coffee out to my deck. Rachel was napping, and it was a picture perfect, beautiful fall day…one that most of us who live in St. Louis longingly look forward to during the oppressive days of July and August when the humidity turns the sky a hazy bluish gray even on cloudless days. On September 11, 2001, the sky was the color of a cornflower blue crayon with not a cloud in sight. As I looked to the sky from the safety of my deck 1000’s of miles away from the total devastation that others were experiencing, it was hard not to notice the obvious absence of planes and their white trails of exhaust that normally criss-cross the sky. My house is in the direct flight path of the St. Louis airport, only about 10 miles away, so low-flying planes are an everyday occurrence, and on that day, the sky was eerily blue and eerily quiet. I had never noticed the background noise of planes until that day when they were missing.

*I remember driving to pick up the kids from school late in the afternoon, and I passed a couple of moms I knew walking with their kids, pushing strollers, laughing, seemingly having a good time, and I thought, “How in the world can they be out walking and laughing like it’s a normal day?” I wondered if they were clueless and didn’t know what had been happening all day, and I resisted the urge to roll down my window and ask them why they weren’t at home in front of the their televisions.

*I remember the prayer service held at Sts. Joachim and Ann church that night. To this day, tears come to my eyes when I remember the standing-room-only crowd similar to the crowd on Christmas and Easter tearfully singing “Be Not Afraid” and “On Eagles Wings” and “How Great thou Art.” And how we all joined hands as we recited The Lord’s Prayer. It was many months after that before I was able to sing in church without crying.

*I remember how after the prayer service, in somber moods, we all went to the party for our friend who was starting chemo the next day. There was a huge pile of touching gifts for her, plates and platters of food that no one felt like eating, and of course, the main topic of conversation was the events that had unfolded that day. I also remember how one of our parish priests, Fr. Jeff Massen, was there…the only man in a houseful of women. We all loved him…he was a young priest, new to our parish. I also remember how comforting it was having him there. At one point, several of us were gathered around the island in the kitchen with Fr. Massen, drinking wine, and he asked us all to join hands and pray with him. I don’t remember his words, but I do remember they addressed the fears we all had, not only about what was happening in our nation, but also about the journey our friend was about to embark on.

*I remember calling my dear Aunt Mary the next day. At one point, I was crying, saying how horrible I felt for all of those people who had died in such a horrific way, and how horrible I felt for their families, and mostly, how afraid I was. She told me how it had brought back such vivid memories for her of the day the Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor and how for days afterward, everyone was waiting for the next attack. She told me how when Pearl Harbor was attacked, everyone talked about the feeling that life as they knew it would never be the same again. And that was exactly how I had been feeling…that life as I knew it was over.

*I remember how helpless I felt. I wondered what kind of world my children would grow up in.

*I remember the patriotism of the majority of Americans. I have never before or since seen so many flags flying in front of business, homes. Little flags attached to plastic clip on holders even flew from the windows and rooftops of cars. I bought my own flag to hang from my porch for the first time ever. I also will not ever forget the nasty letter I received in the mail a couple of weeks later from someone who didn’t like the way my flag was flying. Included with the letter was a 2-page list of all of the rules and regulations for flying the American flag with the things I had violated highlighted with a neon yellow marker. It was signed with a handwritten sentence that I would be better off not flying a flag at all than flying one so disrespectfully. My worst violation according to him was that I was flying it at night without a spotlight on it. I didn’t know that was a rule…all I knew was that our president had asked all Americans to fly their flag around the clock, and that is what I had been doing. It was clear from the letter that this person had driven around the neighborhood and made note of everyone who was in violation in his eyes. He signed the letter, “a concerned veteran.” The day I received that letter, I took down my flag and I haven’t flown one since.

*I remember the feeling of pride and awe I had for everyone from the common person to our politicians for the way they handled the crisis. The feeling of camaraderie and fellowship was something I had never seen before, and haven’t seen since. In those early days, it didn’t matter if one was rich or poor, Republican or Democrat…we were all in it together, and after that first horrendous day, I think that solidarity began to make us feel invincible and sent a “don’t mess with us!” message to the rest of the world. That camaraderie made me, and I think many other people, feel a bit of security in an untenable situation.

Ten years later….

I sit here late on this night before the tenth anniversary of what has come to be known as simply 9/11. As I have written these words and thought back upon that oh so frightening day, I can’t help but think about the ways that I have changed. I think back upon that afternoon when I sat out on my deck with a cup of coffee gazing at the sky that was way too blue, and in many ways, life hasn’t been the same. In some ways, it’s been worse, and in some ways it’s been better.

It has been worse because I have fears now that I never knew before that day. We have been at war now for nearly 10 years, and with 2 sons, one who is an adult and one who is close, it is impossible to think of either of them flying away to a desert halfway across the world and being shot at. That is not something I ever gave a thought to before September 11, 2001.

I often glance at the sky and upon seeing a plane, say a silent prayer that all is well and those passengers end up safely on the ground. I never had a thought like that, or even paid attention to planes in the sky, before September 11, 2001.

Whenever I see a flawless, cerulean blue sky, even after all of these years, my first thought is of that beautiful early fall day when the calmness of the splendid blue sky was so out of place…when that blue sky masked a darkness that was felt in hearts and minds across the world. I often think it might have been better if on that tragic day, the sky would have been full of thunderclouds and lightening and downpours of rain.

So I will end this with no ending at all really. Ten years later, I still have a difficult time watching the footage, and I still feel the initial shock and horror I felt when those mammoth towers crumbled, even though I know it is coming. It is like I expect, or maybe just hope for, a different outcome. Yet I will watch anyway. And I will forever remember on days when the sky is such a clear, beautiful blue. September 11th blue.