9/11 Revisited
Claudia603's recent posting of her day's experiences on 9/11 and her thoughts inspired me to share my experiences that day. It was interesting, actually, to "re-live" it and a bit cathartic. Anyway, I decided to post my feelings and experiences here too. Would be interested in others' thoughts if you'd like to share.
Although I lived in CT then, I was in Southern California on 9/11, in the town of Agoura Hills. My sister and I had just moved my mom into an “assisted living” facility due to her advancing Alzheimer’s Disease. We had had to force the move and it was just a horrible time. She was still cognizant enough to know she had lost her home but not enough to realize why--and in spite of the fact that it was a brand-new, absolutely lovely facility, she hated it…and us.
So I was sleeping on a futon on the living room floor of her little apartment-trying to ease her into being comfortable there. At about 6:00 AM I got a call from my sister-who was in San Francisco on business-telling me that a plane had hit the twin towers. I ran across the hall to the rec room where they had a wide screen TV. I turned it on just in time to see the second plane hit the other tower. Stunned and all alone, I sank into the sofa and just watched, paralyzed with horror.
Finally, a few other people came in but I was surprised that no one sat down with me to watch. They seemed concerned but maybe because it was so far away, they weren’t as devastated as I was, being from the East Coast. Most watched for a few minutes, then went about their business. My mom didn’t really understand the implications.
I finally went to my sister’s house and watched the TV reports until my brother-in-law came home from work. We couldn’t do anything else but sit there, eyes frozen to the TV. My sister rented a car and drove home since all the planes were grounded. I was supposed to fly to Montreal the next day to interview with the CEO of a company (that eventually brought me to the Boston area). Obviously, I couldn’t do that so I stayed with my sister for another 3-4 days before I could get a flight out. I remember calling American Airlines to change my flight and feeling so bad for all of them-losing two planes and crews. I also remember how bizarre it was to stare up at the sky and know that no planes were in the air at all. And I remember trying desperately to reach friends in NYC to be sure they were OK.
I flew out of LAX on the second day after flying resumed and it was pretty scary taking off over the ocean for a cross-country flight. The plane was totally silent and nobody relaxed until it was clear that we were headed out over the countryside.
Then I remember getting to Montreal and, walking through the airport, seeing a Muslim woman coming towards me. I distinctly recall feeling a knee-jerk twinge of fear. It only happened that one time but I was surprised with how shaken I must have been inside and how insidious and “knee-jerky” fear can be. I was angry with myself for feeling that way (if only for a second) but it was so interesting that it happened.
I returned to CT after the interview and got the job, after a very subdued meeting with the CEO (who was American). By November, I was living in the Boston suburbs. So, that’s my 9/11 story.
Although I lived in CT then, I was in Southern California on 9/11, in the town of Agoura Hills. My sister and I had just moved my mom into an “assisted living” facility due to her advancing Alzheimer’s Disease. We had had to force the move and it was just a horrible time. She was still cognizant enough to know she had lost her home but not enough to realize why--and in spite of the fact that it was a brand-new, absolutely lovely facility, she hated it…and us.
So I was sleeping on a futon on the living room floor of her little apartment-trying to ease her into being comfortable there. At about 6:00 AM I got a call from my sister-who was in San Francisco on business-telling me that a plane had hit the twin towers. I ran across the hall to the rec room where they had a wide screen TV. I turned it on just in time to see the second plane hit the other tower. Stunned and all alone, I sank into the sofa and just watched, paralyzed with horror.
Finally, a few other people came in but I was surprised that no one sat down with me to watch. They seemed concerned but maybe because it was so far away, they weren’t as devastated as I was, being from the East Coast. Most watched for a few minutes, then went about their business. My mom didn’t really understand the implications.
I finally went to my sister’s house and watched the TV reports until my brother-in-law came home from work. We couldn’t do anything else but sit there, eyes frozen to the TV. My sister rented a car and drove home since all the planes were grounded. I was supposed to fly to Montreal the next day to interview with the CEO of a company (that eventually brought me to the Boston area). Obviously, I couldn’t do that so I stayed with my sister for another 3-4 days before I could get a flight out. I remember calling American Airlines to change my flight and feeling so bad for all of them-losing two planes and crews. I also remember how bizarre it was to stare up at the sky and know that no planes were in the air at all. And I remember trying desperately to reach friends in NYC to be sure they were OK.
I flew out of LAX on the second day after flying resumed and it was pretty scary taking off over the ocean for a cross-country flight. The plane was totally silent and nobody relaxed until it was clear that we were headed out over the countryside.
Then I remember getting to Montreal and, walking through the airport, seeing a Muslim woman coming towards me. I distinctly recall feeling a knee-jerk twinge of fear. It only happened that one time but I was surprised with how shaken I must have been inside and how insidious and “knee-jerky” fear can be. I was angry with myself for feeling that way (if only for a second) but it was so interesting that it happened.
I returned to CT after the interview and got the job, after a very subdued meeting with the CEO (who was American). By November, I was living in the Boston suburbs. So, that’s my 9/11 story.