Where were you, how did you react, on 09-11-01?

[Midder Peenud Hayed]

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.

[Cracka Jack]

I was 33 and was just getting into my stride working in IT after 3 years. Was working at a place that did student loans for truck driving school students. Fairly big operation, and the IT dept had an open checkbook for equipment, software, staff and such. Great manager, awesome co-workers. They had dozens of ghetto sows fresh off welfare working in the collections dept - nasty sows, perfect for the job.

So I'm watching over his shoulder as one of the senior admins shows me how to partition space on a big new EMC RAID array we had just installed. There was a brilliant programmer who also happened to be an amateur pilot working a few rows of cubes away. He shouts out, "A plane just hit the World Trade Center!" My first thought was "Bid deal. Some knucklehead in a Cessna got lost. It's happened before. No major damage." We all knew better within about 5 minutes.

A bunch of IT staff gathered around the programmers desk. He had some news feeds. Can't recall that there was a TV, maybe there was in the lunch room. There was some speculation about what might have happened, most of it head scratching about why a commercial jet would be anywhere near there. Then the second plane was flown into the towers. Now there was no doubt, terrorists. Shortly afterwards they told us all to go home.

I went home and got the only defensive firearm I had at that time. A S&W K frame single action 38SPCL revolver, got back in the car and headed to my parents house. (Dad had a significantly better arsenal.).

Mid day turned to afternoon, and evening. Glued to the TV, watching the same footage over and over. Went back to my house and for the first time, kept a pistol on the bedside table.

Two days later it was learned that a kid I grew up with, Bobby, had been on the second plane into the towers. I had known Bobby since about age 5 or 6. His mother used to babysit me for a few hours in the afternoon when my mother went to the family business to do the books. When we got to be 7-8 it became clear that Bobby was "different". His older sister told me once that Bobby had a "blood problem". Actually, he was as gay as the day is long. I moved on to other friends, more interested in sports than than A&E type stuff. We went to school together pretty much through high school, but didn't associate.

There was a big memorial held for Bobby at his sisters place about a week later. I learned he had finally found his dream job. Working as a steward for United Airlines. He had been on the job for only a month or two before 9/11. I remember thinking to myself how ironic it was that Bobby was one of the first casualties of the new war.

I'm much better prepared now, and it's a 1911 that now stands at the ready on my bedside table.

[Midder Peenud Hayed]

So many of us had the same experience you and I did that day. It was truly a national trauma.

On the West Coast, we had the disadvantage of being 3 hours behind the initial events. Later that afternoon, I went outside to get something out of my wife's car and noticed this ghostly silence -- even the always-present traffic noise was noticeably muted.

I think the entire nation spent the rest of that day on the couch watching the news...

[SC Anemia]

I had the day off and slept in. Being 3 hours earlier on the west coast, Flt.11 had already hit the North Tower when I turned on the news to watch with my coffee.

Like most everyone else, I was mostly stunned at the magnitude of the attack. Later I was pissed, really pissed.

I was maybe 15 minutes into the news coverage with things just starting to sink-in when I first thought about my oldest son. He had just enlisted in the Marine Corps a year earlier and was at AIT at Camp Pendleton at the time. My only thought was "aw fuck, his return address is gonna change".

I dont think I was worried (O.K. maybe a little) but just fuckin pissed. As it turned out, he didnt get involved in any asslifter games until the Spring of 2003 when he went into Baghdad with the 1st. Marines.

To Hell with pisslam and every last one of those motherfuckers!

[Midder Peenud Hayed]

...I first thought about my oldest son. He had just enlisted in the Marine Corps a year earlier and was at AIT at Camp Pendleton at the time....

As it turned out, he didnt get involved in any asslifter games until the Spring of 2003 when he went into Baghdad with the 1st. Marines.

I don't know how you were able to sleep at night.

To Hell with pisslam and every last one of those motherfuckers!

Amen!

[Cracka Jack]

I was only 103 miles away from ground zero that day. The weather was absolutely perfect. I remember the skies were 100% blue, not a cloud anywhere. Temps in the mid 70's.

It would have been such a nice day...

[SC Anemia]

I don't know how you were able to sleep at night.

I could say I wasn't bothered but that's a lie. Actually, in as much as I couldn't help but be worried to death there was one thing that did give me some peace.

I knew what training he had first hand having been through it myself. That may sound kind of hokey but honest to God it was at least something.