So…here we are. Ten years later.

 

I’m not around on the weekends so I am posting this today. Maybe the thread will stay active through the weekend.

 

I call 9/11 the day “Hate TRIED to conquer Love and Evil FAILED to conquer good." It is a day that will live forever in our collective memories. It is our generations “JFK or MLK assassination."

 

One phrase seemed to resound out of the ashes of Ground Zero in the weeks following that day, one that I take very seriously: We will not forget.

 

Since the heroes and the victims of 9/11 are heavy on my mind as Sunday approaches, I thought I’d put out the call to you all to remember also. But of course, we have to do this WLS style.

Where were you that day? What was your life like back then? What are some major contrasts to how it is now?

 

And, if you feel so inclined, I also invite you to offer up a word or two about the day and the people who suffered because of it.

 

I won’t forget. Not at ten years, eleven, twenty or forty. I don’t think any of you will either, so let’s pay homage.

So answering my own question.

 

Your girl Nik was eight months pregnant and had the WORST cold ever. My doctor threatened to hospitalize me if I did not get better soon. I’d managed to get La Grande Diva up and to the daycare center and had trudged back home to bury myself in the covers. I was resentful that I could not have Nyquil. La Petite Diva must have known mama was sick because she was very peaceful that morning.

 

No sooner had I dozed off than my phone rang. I ignored it the first time but then it rang again. I picked it up and it was my mom. She urged me to turn on the tv. I asked why. She told me someone had bombed the World Trade Centers in New York. My initial reaction was, “again?"

 

I turned on the tv and everything looked so surreal. It was not a bomb but a plane. A large plane. I know now it was not so much that the plane was that big but that it wasn’t natural to see a plane so close to a building. I was shocked and didn’t quite know what to think. My first instinct was to get back up, get dressed and go get my baby, which is exactly what I did.

 

After we were home the news had more details. I will never forget the images we saw that day. People jumping from the buildings, paper and dust flying everywhere. The looping video of those towers falling. I prayed and cried all night. I tried to call my father who lives in New York and whose company home office was in the trade center.

 

So far as how my life was different. I was fresh from the break up with the girls dad, trying to embrace the fact that I’d be raising two babies alone. This was probably the first step in my walk toward WLS. I started caring about me, not because of me, but because of my fierce love for those girls. Nowadays I love me FOR me but back then that was all I could muster.

 

I don’t remember how much I weighed. It was well over 300 although I didn’t gain any weight with my youngest. I remained the same weight my entire pregnancy, which the doctor said meant she was gaining and for some reason I was losing. I was still morbidly obese though, so it comes out the same in the end to me.

 

At any rate, it took me a week to get in contact with my dad, who was fine. He was on the last subway train that got out of the trade center stop before the collapse. I thank God every day for that. Poor guy, though. Buses and everything shut down. He had to walk all the way back to Brooklyn. Phone lines were jammed. He said he wanted to at least send me a letter to say he was ok but everything was really crazy and even mail was affected.

 

I don’t know what words to offer up to the people who suffered that day. I strive not to let bigotry, hatred and intolerance get the better of me. If I do that means the terrorists won and I won’t have that. I thank God for those people. I thank God for their lives, for their stories. I think their sacrifice made us better people. I rejoice in their families and friends, who were able to do the unthinkable: move forward after such a great tragedy. And I celebrate life. Tomorrow is never guaranteed. But we do have right now. I try to remember that when life seems to suck (a lot).

I was at home.  Terribly depressed as I had been fired from my last job.  My husband called and asked if I had the TV on.  I didn't.  When I turned it on it was hard to believe what I was seeing.  That was just a few minutes before the 2nd plane hit.  The people jumping and falling from the towers are the images that are burned in my mind the strongest.  The image of that one gentleman as he was clearly trying to scale down the side of the building away from the flames and then his fall.  That one will be with me forever. 

It was yet another time that I was depressed and suddenly realized that in the great grand scheme of things I had not a care in the world compared to so many. 

I have an acquaintance who worked in the Pentagon.  At the house of a close friend she shared with us a book that the employees there had been given.  A type of memorial album almost.  She had gone to the bathroom when the plane struck the building.  The others that had arrived at her office that morning were killed.  I can't imagine the survivor's guilt that must come with that one. 

Like Nik, I have no words.  There just aren't any that seem to work.  Peace to all who were touched that day. 

I was working on a military base when it happened. We were put on lockdown, no leaving the area. I called my spouse crying because I couldn't go to be with him. We didn't know what wad going to be hit next. For the remainder of the day we sat around the TV reliving those moments, crying for those people, praying for them. When the towers fell there was not a dry eye. Still to this day I pray for those heroes and innocents who were in flight 98, the towers and the pentagon. Every day when our military deploy, I pray for them as well. A young 20 year old man that I knew died in the war, I remember him and pray for him as well.

My God grant those affected peace at this time and forever more. May those filled with hate find love and understanding that in our differences we are still all God 's children and God can be whoever you believe in...

I was, as I am now, sitting in my office at school dealing with emails and voicemails and surfing in between before starting with students, when the teacher for hearing impaired students ran in and grabbed my laptop, shouting about plane****ting buildings. 

I thought she'd finally gone around the bend, but no such luck.

That particular school went on lockdown, nobody in, nobody out, all day.  The other specialists and I took turns going into classrooms and letting the teachers have a break, although almost all of them used the time to go to the lounge and check the TV coverage to see what was happening.  My other school threw open the doors and invited all parents to come in and be with the community, so responses varied according to principal.

I did get calls from a couple parents who had spouses or family in NYC who wanted me to check that their children were not panicked.  In all cases, the kids seemed oblivious to the possible familial connection, which was a real blessing.

However, I did have a friend whose husband was in one of the non-hit buildings, and another friend who worked in a non-hit building but who was out ill that day - thank heaven for small favors, although both of them seriously questioned why and how they wound up saved.

Yesterday our newspaper ran a picture of the falling man.  I don't recall seeing it 10 years ago, but it brought a lump to my throat and a knot to what's left of my stomach.  Our local radio had an ex-espionage controller (didn't say which US agency, but was during the Clinton years) on today talking about extremist terrorism, and the host asked if it was important to know the (real or perceived) grievances of those who would do such things.  The expert said that yes, it was, because unless you understand the grievances, you will be unsuccessful in predicting the next step to defend against.  Then he said that the true grievance is simply that we exist, which means that we need to defend always against everything, and yet find a way to remain human.

It's a very tough balance - and I hope we can walk it.

 I was at work. We had a TV there and the pharmacist turned it on. My first reaction was to find out if my great-uncle who worked in DC for the FAA was at work or at home in Annapolis. Other techs had family who were FDNY and were frantically calling family to find out if they were safe.
My husband (who I didn't know at that time) was starting his first semester as a political science graduate student, and was on the bus to classes when people started talking. When he got to class, his professor just turned on the TV and said "politics will never be the same".

I lived in NJ at the time and I knew many people who worked in or near the towers. Thankfully, no one I know personally perished that day. A former classmate that I knew "of" died though. And many people that were friends of friends.

I had just been at the WTC the Friday before. I took the subway there and then walked to my company's NYC office a few blocks away on Maiden Lane. I remember looking up at the towers and wondering why I had never been there before in my 30 years. I was in NYC often, but never had reason to venture downtown. I had a meeting scheduled with a client in the South tower for Sept. 12th, and I promised myself I would make time to go up to the observation deck.

At that time in my life I was married, without children yet, and working from my home office. On that blue-skied Tuesday morning, I crawled out of bed a few minutes before 9am, shuffled into my office and turned on the computer. I immediately got an IM from my friend Kevin saying that a plane had hit the WTC. I was thinking it was a freak accident with a small single engine plane. I was asking Kevin questions but he didn't have any details to give. Then he suddenly typed, "Holy Sh*t! Turn on your TV! Another plane just hit!"

It was now apparent that we were under attack and I frantically tried to call my husband. "All circuits are busy"...over and over. I emailed him. I told him to get home NOW! My next thought was my friend Janet, who works a block away from the WTC. I could not get through to her either. (Later I learned she was not in the office that day.) I got through to my parents at some point to let them know I wasn't in the city that day. Then I just sat there glued to the television while IM'ing in a chat room with a group of friends, sharing the latest play-by-play with each other, for an hour, and watching the buildings burn with tears in my eyes.

A little after 10AM I decided to walk down to the beach to see what I could see. From there I could see lower Manhattan across the bay. Sometime in the 5 minutes it took me to get there, the first tower fell. The beach was filled with people just standing there watching...aghast. When someone told me a tower had collapsed, I couldn't believe it. Then the other one fell while I was standing there. I couldn't see it from my perspective - the distance and smoke were too much - but I felt the pain in the collective guts of all of us standing there on the beach in tears. Watching. Helpless.

Right after the first tower fell:


After the second tower fell:


My husband got home around 11am and we spent the rest of the day in front of the TV. Crying. I was worried sick about my other friend Kevin, who was an NYPD officer stationed in lower Manhattan. (Found out later he was also not at work that morning. Thank God!)

For the next week, the smell was a constant grim reminder of the tragedy of that day. As soon as I stepped outside my house I was greeted with the smell that can only be described as burning metal. And it was probably a good 20 miles across that bay. It's a 45 minute ferry ride, if that gives you an idea of the distance that smell travelled.

I will NEVER forget.

The town I lived in, Middletown, NJ, is actually the town (outside of NYC) that had the highest concentration of fatalities. There was book written about it - Middletown, America.

I was a Navy contractor then. Just in the process of changing jobs to support the Marine Corps. I was single, living with my bff.

I worked in a small room with the only TV. My co worker  said a plane had just hit the WTC. There really wasnt any news yet so we assumed it was one of those small planes. We continued to watch the news.

Like the OP said...I'll never, ever forge****ching those people jump. I was amazed that it was actually on the television.

I smoked then too. Went outside to get away from the images and we were told that the Pentagon was just bombed and we were going into lockdown. People around the building were running, scared, crying and guns were drawn.

My phone was ringing off the hook. Friends calling to see if I knew what was going on. We werent allowed to answer the phones.

We were evacuated. My car was at the top of the parking garage facing the Pentagon. Allthough we were being evacuated, no one could get out with the traffic. I had the radio on, watching the smoke from the Pentagon filling the sky. I had just broken up with someone who had gone to Saudi for a job (he arrived Sep 9th) and I was terrified for him.

Cell phones didnt work. I tried calling and calling my mom to let her know I was ok. I knew she would be freaking out. Finally got a hold of her. For pretty much the first time ever, she didnt have the tv on. I remember the words falling out of my mouth like slow motion, telling her we were under attack.

Our building was shut down for the rest of the week. Essential personnel only. I sat up on the couch for days crying and watching the news. I couldnt get enough. I didnt want to miss any information. I knew who everybody was. Finally a couple days later, my friends had an intervention and made me shower and go out.

Come to find out, my old office...friends I had worked with had just moved to remodeled offices at the Pentagon. They were hit. They were having a meeting at the time.

It makes me so sick that people forget. They only remember once a year. Every day I walk past a memorial for the people here that were lost that day. I think about those lives every day.  

I was living in Mn at the time. I had just had Gavin my oldest he was 3.5 months old. I heard it on the radio. I could not get it straight in my head it seemed. And at that time they were reporting that planes also went down in the city of Pittsburgh...this is when I went into a panic...all my sisters worked downtown pittsburgh. I could not get thru to anyone at all for hours. AS we all know it was not Pittsburgh but Shanksville Pa. z

When I got home I woke James and we sat in front of the tv and jus****ched for hours. I had some ppd from giving birth and wa**** pretty hard by this. 

I also have very close friends that live and work in DC. One is a nurse and many of the people from the pentagon were sent to her hospital. She said to me later that it was surreal that day and she will never forget that day.


I have to share that my oldest is in 5th and as a thankyou to the fireman the class wrote letters and baked cookies and took them to the firehouse. THe got to read their letters to the whole group  there and went around and talked how thankfull they are to have such brave people looking out for them.


9-11 is a day I will never forget. I can close my eyes and be back there in a second.

I was in my first week of law school in Pittsburgh and coming out of contracts class. In the student lounge someone was on the phone talking about the WTC being hit by a plane. The lounge didn't have a TV so we gathered around a radio. I remember the second plane hitting and realizing it was a coordinated attack. Then the numbness when the towers collapsed. Reports started coming in about a plane crashing in Pittsburgh. The school was evacuated and everyone sent home. I had forgotten my cell phone that day, of all days, and rushed to get home to my husband who is from NYC.

Before moving to Pittsburgh we lived in Manhattan and I worked for the federal government in Building 7 of the WTC. I was in the towers every day for one reason or another, getting lunch, shopping, going to the credit union. After work my husband would meet me at the fountain in the plaza or on the walkway bridge over Vesey Street. I transferred in1999. No one we knew was killed. My co-workers were evacuated and all survived but they wouldn't talk about it. I remember how angry and helpless my husband felt because someone had attacked his city.

Afterward I sometimes dreamt that I would show up for work and everything was just smoldering rubble. I can not fathom the trauma suffered by those who actually lived through, witnessed, or lost someone that day, or what any of those poor souls who died may have been thinking in their final moments, especially those who were headed up the stairs while everyone else was frantically running down.

Thank you for this thread Nik.