Where were you, how did you react, on 09-11-01?
My wife and I returned from our honeymoon on Sunday night, 09-09-01. I had never been happier in my 27 years. I got up the next morning excited to return to a job I loved (finance manager at a Honda dealership). The wife was beginning 3 days of testing to get her state teaching certificate. Life seemed to be so full of possibility, purpose, and optimism. I honestly felt (and still do in many ways) that there was no limit to what we could do.
That night, we splurged on a “fancy” dinner using the remainder of the cash we were given for our honeymoon. Again, it was almost like being in an alternate reality where nothing bad ever happens.
The next morning, the wife had to get up early again for her testing. It was September 11, Los Angeles, CA.
I was still asleep when I heard her shout my name, “Tommy!”. I awoke a bit startled – what was it, another microscopic spider on the wall…? I walked into our living room in my birthday suit, she was pointing at the TV and trembling.
This was probably just after 06:00 DST. I missed seeing the UA 175 crash live, but she had seen it. It took a couple minutes for the morning show to re-run it, but when I saw it, I turned to her and told her it was Moslems and we were at war. I had no doubt!
I immediately thought of Dad. He was near the Pentagon and he would know what was going on, but his phone went right to his voicemail. Meanwhile, the news played the crash over and over again. I felt sick. I knew the loss of life would be horrendous. My wife was crying at this point.
A few minutes later, we got a call from my father-in-law, Jacques. He was concerned for our safety and offered to do whatever needed to be done to bring us to Montreal if we needed to get out. I remember telling him that they would probably ground air traffic and we were safe in our little condo in the Valley. I was also armed and well-trained. His daughter was safe.
I tried Dad again. No joy. Weeks later, I learned that he was in the parking lot of an adjacent building in the greater Pentagon complex with his aide in a USN Suburban. He was talking to one of his sons (we’ve never figured out which one – I know it wasn’t me) when he heard AA 77 fly over at full throttle and then felt the ground shake.
He’s a sphinx. He never says anything about anything, but he has told me a few things about what he saw that day. It’s life-altering and extraordinarily sad.
Those days, I was riding to work with a friend. My little Ford Ranger had finally shit the bed and I didn’t have a car. He was waiting for me outside, so I took a 90 second shower, threw on a shirt and tie, and ran down the stairs.
On my way out the door, I told my wife not to worry. She was still visibly upset.
During my commute, 77 hit the Pentagon, but my friend and I were in such a deep discussion, we didn’t hear the report on the radio.
When we got to the dealership, all the TV’s were tuned to the news and everyone just stood in stunned silence. There were gasps, even tears at times. I went right to my desk and was checking my emails when my boss walked in.
“Your Dad is Navy?”, he asked.
Yep.
He tossed the keys to one of our Accord loaner-cars on my desk and said, “Go home.”
I asked him why?
He said, “You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
He told me about the Pentagon.
I’m a pretty cool cucumber, and not prone to letting my emotions get the better of me, but I have to admit, I feared the worst at that moment and was in tears as I drove home.
When I pulled into our parking space I saw my wife’s car was still there. They had canceled testing for the day. I got it together and walked through the door.
By that time, there was video of the aftermath of the strike on the west side of the Pentagon. I know this is a shitty thing to say, but I was relieved. Dad’s administrative offices were in the Navy Annex across the street. There would have been no reason for him to be in the Pentagon building.
We spent the rest of the day watching the coverage, as I suspect most of us did. At some point, I got in touch with Mom in Virginia and she told me that dad was fine.
It seems surreal all these years later, but it also seems like yesterday. In the span of 24 hours we ran the gamut of emotions from ecstatic euphoria to horror.
May God bless America, and bless the souls of all who were lost in New York, the Pentagon, Shanksville, Afghanistan, Iraq, and everywhere the Death Cult of Islam has attacked freedom.
