9/11: I Will Never Forget
September 11, 2006
I know that I'm going to be one of millions who will post his own thoughts on the five-year anniversary of 9/11. Still, I feel compelled because my life was nearly impacted in a major way on this date 5 years ago.
A year ago on my old blog I told the story of how my cousin, whom I am close to, escaped the World Trade Center because she never forgot a promise she made to my uncle. When she moved down to NYC to be with her now ex-boyfriend from college, she got a job in the Twin Towers, way up on the 93rd floor of the south tower. My uncle was nervous about her being in their due to the attempted bombing of the WTC back in 1993. He made her promise that if she ever sensed danger, she'd get the hell out of there and never look back. Well, on September 11, 2001, she kept that promise.
I will condense this down as much as I can since I've told it many times, and I'd like to get to my frame of mind on this day. After the first plane hit the north tower, she knew something couldn't be right. She was in her office when the impact happened, having just sent an email to the youngest daughter of my uncle's then-girlfriend. Even though voices over an intercom told people to remain calm and in their offices, she picked up her things and rushed to the stairwell to get out of the building and away from the Twin Towers--just like she promised my uncle years earlier.
We never knew she made it out that day until about 1pm that afternoon. Had she hesitated for another 10 minutes, she probably would have been mid-descent when the second plane sliced the upper half of the south tower, right at the impact point. Her building later became the first building to collapse. To give you an idea of just how large these buildings were , she recalled there only being a rumble and soft explosion, but not one that would lead you to believe a huge plane had just slammed into your building at full-speed. In fact, it wasn't until she was clear of the buildings that she knew what had happened during her escape.
About four days later, I drove down with my uncle, his girlfriend and her daughter to pick my cousin up out at the home of her then-boyfriend on Long Island. I remember seeing the billow of smoke rising from lower Manhattan as we crossed the Throgs Neck Bridge. As someone who worked in NYC for three years and spent as much time as he could taking in the excitement and adventure this city brings, I felt deeply saddened more than most "outsiders" would. It was one thing to see the scenic shots on TV, but seeing it in person was a whole other feeling.
I remember how strong my cousin was. With the exception of the embrace she shared with my uncle when she cried, she never broke down upon our return to our home state. I marveled at how calmly she'd tell the story of a few days earlier, how she isn't nearly as shaken up as you'd think since she never really looked back. Sure, the anthrax scares that followed later that year unsettled her, but for years she never showed any emotional scars of 9/11.
That was then, this is now.
In the last couple of years, the emotions she harbored and hid from the world finally took their toll. Not long ago, she had an anxiety attack she attributes to not properly dealing with the terrorist attacks. Luckily for her, she has been able to move on. She met a new man from Upstate NY, moved back home shortly after, he followed her and the two got engaged in June. I don't doubt that she is going through a ton of emotions today (she did lose co-workers that day), especially since the media coverage is so widespread. I hate to imagine what people who lost loved ones are going through also. I was close to being one of those people, but my family was among the lucky ones. It's too bad there can't be more families like ours who didn't get the happy news in the hours that followed.
As for me, today started as just any other. Then, as I listened to Howard Stern announced that due to fan-demand, he would rebroadcast in real-time the broadcast of 9/11/01, starting somewhere around the time the first reports came in about the first plane crash. My office hours begin at 8am, but at lunch I managed to hear the West Coast feed of his show and got to hear the show portion when the first tower crumbled. I was transported back to that day, and it felt so real again. A small bit of those emotions came racing back.
This was exactly what I was listening to as I rushed home from my job to be with my family as we awaited any news on my cousin. For as much criticism as Stern gets, this broadcast was one of the most amazing bits of radio I'd ever heard. He gave people a platform to get out what they were thinking at that very moment, and for people who couldn't get to a TV, the show served a purpose as a news outlet. In fact, I had long forgotten I had an mp3 of that broadcast until he announced his plans to re-air the 9/11 broadcast a few days ago. It really serves as a harsh reminder of what this country went through today 5 years ago.
When I left NY, a city I fell in love with almost immediately when I was a kid who visited for the first time with my grandmother, I was deeply disappointed I didn't "make it" down there. I made a bad career move, didn't make enough money to live the way I wanted to, and ended up packing my bags and coming home. I felt like a piece of me was left behind because I've never felt the same since I moved away in August'01. About 3 weeks later, 9/11 happened. I often wonder how my life would have been if I was right down there, still working in my building a few blocks away from the UN. Would I have rushed downtown to look for my cousin? Probably. I really believe my life would be dramatically different had a remained in my shitty office job for just another month or so. Just how different, I'll never know. It's almost as if God had some plan for me. I came back here, picked up my financial pieces, and two years later I bought a home with my brother. 5 years later, I'm financially stable, have a loving girlfriend who I sometimes wonder is going to be my wife, and working for a good company.
I returned to lower Manhattan in December 2001. It was my first time back there since I had moved the weeks before the attacks. I'll never forget that smell of electrical fires and dust. I remember seeing that famous structure that stood upright--all that was left of a once mighty tower. I can't ever forget that numbers of photos of the missing that was posted along a fence outside one of the churches rescue volunteers rested in. I remember sign after sign on medians in the West Side Highway, thanking all the people who were working tirelessly to recover what was left of human bodies, and cleaning up rubble. I was so sad, so much in disbelief. This was real. This was done to one my loves, New York City. I felt like, on that cold day, I bid a farewell to the missing piece of me.
No, I'll never forget 9/11. When I'm being held up at an airport before boarding a plane to Atlanta next month, I'll remember why. When I get frustrated one of my best friends is in Iraq (that's a whole debate for another day), I'll remember why he's fighting for our country. Today, I ask you remember those who lost their lives doing what we still do to this day and sometimes take for granted: just living their lives as an American.
posted by That 30's Guy @ 6:57 PM,
