In the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing. ~Robert Ingersoll
We all have our memory of where we were when the world stopped turning.
I was at work in McLean. It was a beautiful day, just like today. I was more bubbly than usual because my very first nephew was scheduled to make his appearance on that day. My plan was to get out of work as fast as possible, collect my chickens and head to the hospital to meet the my brother and sister-in-law's first-born, their son.
In my world, 09/11/01 was going to be a day of great celebration and unmeasurable joy.
Outside the window on my left, a short distance away was The Pentagon. In it, on this beautiful fall morning, was the wife of a co-worker, among others. Someone turned up a radio and told me that a plane had just flown into the WTC. I said "What, like in that Arnold Schwarzenneger movie?".
As you know, within minutes we knew it was not an innocuous accident with a small plane or helicopter off course. We were under attack. Even as I type those words today, it doesn't seem real. A few hours later, I said them aloud (emphasis on LOUD) to a woman on the phone, and I almost choked on having said them.
We watched and listened to the news unfolding in NYC, and just as the the devastation there became clear and real to me, the Pentagon was hit. It burned and smoked in the distance outside my window. The phones were not working.
All we had was radio news to tell us what was going on. The city was being evacuated, but we didn't know where the threats lay. Finally, one of the guys got a conference room television to pick up a local TV station so we could put visuals with the occurrences. We saw footage of what was going on in NYC, and could only assume that we could expect the same. Every minute was more news of possible car bombs in locations everywhere around us.
I was scared, mostly with the not knowing so many things. Where were my kids? Were they scared? Was Gramp scared? Was he even up yet? Was it safe to leave work and go home to find out, or was I safer on the 10th floor of a building so close to so many targets in our town?
We all had these thoughts, as we tried to maintain and help our clients prepare their businesses for the evacuation. One look out the window on the other side of the building told us we could get in our cars and try to leave, but we weren't getting anywhere. It was grid-lock.
It was somewhat frantic for a few hours, to be honest. And in the midst my phone rang. On the other end was not a client one minute closer to being able to get out of their office. It was a woman in California, from our new parent company's finance department. She wanted to talk to me about my business unit, what we did and how we did it. She was hoping to spend a few hours on the phone with me on an exploratory. What?
She apparently did not think that the attacks should keep us from doing our business, and was a bit incensed that I was refusing her call. She actually asked if she could talk to someone else if I couldn't be available. I laugh about this today, but it's really not funny. To be right here in the United States, with full access to what was happening and really think that it should not stop her from having a meeting. I'd say it was just before 9am in California, so maybe (just maybe) I was telling her this news for the first time.
I said "Lady, we are under attack here in DC. Our city is being evacuated, and I can see a building burning outside my window. That building is the Pentagon. My friends wife is in that building that is burning, and a plane that just crashed was supposed to hit another building I can see from my office. The White House. So no, I am not going to take an hour to stop and talk to you about how I process direct deposits. I'm going to process them, and then I'm getting the hell out of here. "
I can only assume that the reality of the attacks was lost on her, at least until she could watch the footage that still haunts us today.
When it was reported that the kids had not been released from schools and were locked down, it was a relief. Safe and sound. Gramp had awoken and was glued to the television, but doing fine. All my family was accounted for and safe. My sister-in-law was in labor.
I stayed at the office to help with what we businesses now call a chapter in our DRP. Business continuity while under a terrorist attack. Wow. Who even cares? I only stayed because my kids were safe and accounted for and locked down, my Gramp was OK and it would have taken me 4 or 5 hours to get the 20 miles home. Hopefully, I made someone elses day a bit easier by being there. Who knows.
As the day lengthened, our hearts grew heavier. I know I went to the rest-room and just cried for a while. Both from relief and from grief. We knew our city had escaped more death and damages due to the bravery of the those on Flight 93. Our loved ones had been accounted for and were safe, we were able to communicate with long distance folks who were wrought with worry for us.
My sister in law was actively laboring, but she was safe. At some point, she asked the nurses to turn off the television in her room. She's a smart girl.
We were lucky.
On the drive home that afternoon, it seemed to me that the dust and debris that was coating NYC might be reaching us. It just seemed like a fog, I realize now it was me. I was in a fog. I don't remember making left turns, stopping at lights. I don't remember getting off on the exit to home from the Beltway - heck I don't even remember being on the beltway. I do know I drove very slowly, and so did everyone else. I was not alone in my fugue. What had we just escaped? Was more coming? And oh, my Lord - the images that kept coming from New York.
I awoke as I pulled into the drive. Again, it seems surreal today as it did then, but there were children (teens), maybe five or six boys, crossing the horse field to the house. School hadn't been out long, and many parents were still stuck in the grid-lock that resulted from the day. A few kids had military Dad's, and those men wouldn't be seen for days. And when I walked in the house there was already a living room full - friends of my kids. They just felt they needed to be near people, and each other. Even in school all day, they didn't have alot of information, and what they saw was life-changing from the first images.
And Gramp was there with them. His face was solemn, and he seemed very tired. But he was calm. His calm was calming to them. Every once in a while, he would comment something he recalled about Pearl Harbor or WWII. Yes, he had seen tragedy before.
A brief respite came to us in the way of humor. My 2nd oldest was in middle school. She thought the Pentagon was a gas station. She got it confused with the Texaco, and while we understand that connection, we still tease her about wondering what the big deal about a gas station was.
My nephew was born, and I cried again. My brothers first born. My first nephew. He was healthy and beautiful. We were blessed, in the midst of so much loss.
Around dark, all the kids had dispersed to their homes. We could take no more of the TV news, and it appeared that the worst was over and no more attacks would come. That was our most fervent prayer.
I made dinner, tucked the little's into bed, settled Gramp into his chair with a big snort of brandy and my two oldest and I packed up in the car to go see Riley. I recognize that while my day was stressful, it was nothing compared to thousands of families in crisis. Certainly nothing compared to those that lived and died during the attacks. I will still allow myself to let it have been a very tough day for me, personally. We all should.
BUT - I was one of very few people in the country lucky enough to get to hold a new life in my arms life on that day, and look into his eyes and see for certain that love trumps everything. And that I carry with me all the time. It is a counted blessing.
Today, I kind of look at his birth on that day was a sign from God. Sort of our own personal rainbow - a promise of good. And boy, is he. In my world, as I intended it back in 2001, 09/11 is a day of great celebration and unmeasurable joy, but I will never stop praying or feeling heartache for those for whom it is not.
Never Forget. Always have faith. Feel God's Blessings.
PL&BB-
Penni
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