I suspect most people living in the United States on September 11th, 2001 remember where they were and what they were doing when they learned of the terrorist attacks.
I had just exited my car at my church for a morning Bible study. The lady in the car next to me had been listening to the radio. She had just heard about the second airplane slamming into the building and of course it was now apparent this was not an accident. The towers had not yet collapsed. Before we had the group discussion, we spent time in prayer. Our leader’s daughter worked on an American Airlines route that regularly went to Washington D.C. in the morning. We had no way yet to know if she was on the plane that crashed into the Pentagon. (She was not.)
As I headed home slightly before noon I tuned in to a Dallas news radio station. I learned many high-rise buildings sent employees home fearing that any big city could be a target. Some malls had closed. I also heard Mayor Ron Kirk put out a call for blood donations. I had given blood in Mesquite near my home previously and decided this was something I could do. I went home first to eat a light lunch as I knew I would be asked when I last ate. As I lunched, I watched the TV coverage, the first I had seen. It was surreal. The elapsed time picture of the aviation radar map slowly going blank was astounding.
The blood donation center was packed full with people standing shoulder to shoulder. There was a somber mood. I signed my name on a long list and since I had donated here before there was minimal paperwork for me. I waited 4 hours until it was my turn. While waiting, a man from my church came in about 4 p.m. after work. By then they had announced that incoming volunteers should sign up for September 12th, and I told him that when he talked with me. This was a small branch of the main donation center; they were overwhelmed with so many people for its small staff and equipment.
In a way, I was glad to be spared the horrific news while waiting at the blood donation center. I did turn on the TV while I prepared my supper. I realized a moment of fear as I heard military jets in the skies above me. Shortly the news reported that military planes had scrambled to intercept a small airplane that took off from Waco. It was an oblivious pilot apparently though how anyone could not know the events and shut-down of the aviation system was incredulous. My house sat under a flight path for Southwest Airlines to Love Field. I hadn’t realized how there was airplane noise throughout the day until it was eerily quiet.
My husband and two colleagues from Dallas Theological Seminary had flown earlier in the week to Guatemala City to consult with SETECA about a joint program. I sent an email detailing my day to the contact person there to be shared with these men. Later I sent another email to tell them about Mark Cuban’s generous gift in behalf of the people of Dallas. I wanted them to feel connected to their community and country even though they were far from home. I had the TV on until noon Thursday hoping to learn when flights would resume. I finally found a TACA airlines web site and relied on updates there. I couldn’t bear to watch more people clutching photos of loved ones who were missing. My husband was to return to Dallas Thursday, but international flights were the last to resume. He came home Sunday.
I saved many of the newspaper stories for my husband to read. I still have them.
I also saved a commemorative story a year later featuring small photos of 2745 of my fellow Americans killed that day with 3003 names of the deceased in fine print superimposed on a photo of the World Trade Center on the back side.
My sister worked for a company owned by Bank of America. She sent to me a plush Dalmatian that employees could purchase, with the proceeds being sent to buy a fire truck for New York city. On the tag are the three names of B of A employees who died in the tower.
My sister also shared an email disseminated by B of A of the account of an employee who escaped and what she experienced. Rescue workers purposely led her out a back way so she would not see and hear jumpers from the roof. She was spared that being part of her trauma.
We all live with the aftermath of 9/11, especially the changes in air travel security. I had a reservation with American Airlines for a trip to California September 23rd. The plane was maybe 1/4 full, and there was not a single child or young person aboard. People could cancel with a refund and many did. For several years whenever I flew out of and into Dallas I saw a huge banner draping the building put up by American Airlines in memory of their lost employees. (American Airlines is headquartered in Dallas.) I don’t know that I would call pre-9/11 an innocent time, but the terrorist attacks swept away our sense of safety.
We shall never forget.
