SEPTEMBER 11th, EIGHT YEARS LATER
Everybody writes about September 11th – where they were, what they were doing, whose fault it was, conspiracy theories, and the list of topics is endless.

I was in a unique place. I was with two hundred World War II era survivors and veterans. Having seen the horrors of war, they had some unique perspectives.

September 11, 2001, I was Director of Resident Services and Public Relations for a large retirement community in Northern Virginia. I was in a staff meeting when someone rushed in and said a plane had hit the World Trade Center. Always very happy to get out of the time-wasting staff meeting, I thought it was a pretty sick joke, but at least it ended the meeting. Then I went down to the Multipurpose Room and tuned into the giant TV. It was for real. I watched the second plane hit. I couldn’t process what I was seeing.

Just one year before, my daughter and I were in the lobby of the World Trade Center waiting in line for cheap Broadway tickets. I remember thinking to myself, “Gosh, this place has a lot of glass.” We then went to the lower levels, to a shopping mall with many different banks, to exchange her foreign currency. She had just gotten back from a band trip to Europe. This all flashed through my brain as I watched the plane hit. I had been there.

More and more residents came from their cottages and apartments to watch the big screen TV. Sadness filled the room. Though the mood was somber, many had comments and they were all of the opinion, “This country has seen war before and we’ll see it again. We’ll get through this.”

It began to hit home even more for many of them when the Pentagon was attacked. Many had children and grandchildren working in the Pentagon. For some unknown reason, mine was the only cell phone that worked throughout the day so many residents came to my office to borrow it as they checked on their families.



West side of Pentagon two weeks after American Airlines Flight 77 crashed on September 11th.

Then, I thought of my own family. My middle daughter just started at UT. I couldn’t reach her at first. My youngest daughter was a senior in high school. I got word they were in a lock down status, so I knew she was safe. Those of us who lived in the Washington D.C. area didn’t know if we were under attack My oldest daughter, who literally lived across the street from the Pentagon, was asleep. She worked a late shift at the veterinary clinic the night before. When I called, she was unaware of what had happened. By mid-morning traffic was in a historic snarl in the entire Washington D.C. Metro area. I told her to try to get out of there and get down I-95. It was impossible. She vaguely remembered hearing the crash when the plane hit. She thought a massive crane fell next to Pentagon City where there was construction. I told her to look out the window. She was amazed to find the Pentagon on fire. Military helicopters were everywhere, buzzing eye-level with her 15th story apartment. Throughout the day I received eyewitness reports from her as to what was going on.

Residents at this upscale retirement community were very well educated and generally of high rank in the military, CIA or government before they retired. We had a number of former POW’s who were held in German camps during World War II. I had spoken to many of them about these experiences. They lived in a fascinating era, and had unbelievable experiences. Normally these residents were not willing to talk about their war experiences, but on September 11th, several were more vocal than usual.

The two chaplains, both from the same era, were available for counseling of staff and residents throughout the week. Later in the week, a memorial service was held. So many of the residents told me that once again, their faith would get them through this. They believed in this country.

I was concerned about one of my best friends, Kathy and her husband Joe, who lived in Manhattan at the time. The phone lines to New York were impossible so I emailed her. Due to the confusion, there was no public transportation in the city that day. Kathy left work in mid-town Manhattan and walked home, about 40 blocks. I’ll never forget her email that night. “All of these people were walking from Ground Zero. They were covered in ash and their eyes were hollow. Their eyes were just hollow.” They were in shock. She saw hundreds and hundreds of people in this state.

That morning, I took particular note of the weather. It was incredibly clear. The skies were blue and you could feel autumn in the air. About 250 miles from suburban Virginia was New York City. They had identical weather. How many days in your life do you remember kind of weather you were having that day? For some reason, I’ll always remember how blue the sky was.