There are as many different stories about 911 as there are people in this world. No one has exactly the same experience from that day, even if you were standing right next to the same person all day long. We all think and react differently. Every story I’ve heard of someone recalling that day has been an interesting study in the human spirit. Some felt panic, some anger, some overwhelming sadness. I guess I feel like I’d like to finally share my story although it is the same as many others because it is also completely unique in itself.
I watched the NBC morning show on TV, as I always did. It was very normal and mundane. I drank my coffee and dressed and got ready to go to work. I snapped off the television with no more thought as to the news of the day. It was a day just like any other.
I got into my car, and the sun was shining brightly on an otherwise ordinary fall day. I drove through the regular morning traffic with everyone else, listening to the morning radio show and the banal banter of the underwhelming radio show hosts. I had gone about ten miles from home when the DJ’s repeated and ruminated about a report that a plane had hit the Twin Towers. They and I reasoned that some huge idiot must have hit it with their plane. I’m sure I wrinkled my face in confusion. Did someone lose control? Was it a suicide? Weird. A minute or two later they added on the news that a second plane had hit the towers. This time it was speculated on the news release that they had been airliners. Airliners. That news swept over me like the switch of the lake wind that suddenly drops the Duluth temperature down thirty degrees in a matter of minutes. The day was no longer ordinary.
About five minutes later I walked into work at the zoo. There were only three of us there and everyone had heard the unusual news. As it turned out I had shown up for the wrong shift and was two hours early. We set up a tv that generally sat unplugged and unused in the office. There on the screen were the Twin Towers billowing with smoke. I sat riveted and unbelieving as the cameras focused on the sight while reporters updated us with information that was filtering in. I remember hearing an estimate that, on any given morning, there could be around 10,000 occupants in the two combined buildings. I know other news trickled in amongst the horrific image of New York burning: the Pentagon hit, other planes missing, witness accounts. I couldn’t tell what was happening as the first tower collapsed until it was fully down and the reporters explained what they were seeing. In my mind, all I could do was add up the numbers, the sheer numbers of the people that might have been caught in it. Tears were pouring down my face. Then the next tower went down and, even now I have to stop typing to dry my eyes. The loss of human life was staggering to me. The line from Star Wars always comes to mind “…it was as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced.”
Two hours later there was still chaos and confusion, conflicting reports, and footage coming in. I had to go to work. I had to work admissions and smile and welcome guests like this was a typical, ordinary day. It was beautiful and sunny, and I couldn’t figure out who would feel like visiting a zoo with an attack on our country unfolding. Well, if you’re a Canadian on vacation you’re going to be on vacation. It was a slow day and I listened to updates on the radio, counting the minutes until I could be home.
Here’s the thing. As an introverted, emotional, creative type of person, I can get knocked down on a typical day from a report of an animal getting injured or killed. A human tragedy really hits me hard. This, this was off the scale. My mind was trying to just stay above water and function. When I got home and began my obsession with this event, I cried so much that I thought I would never stop. The sickening feeling of the loss of so many lives, the incomprehension of such a level of hate from the attackers, the panic of not knowing for sure that it was over were a combination of feelings that couldn’t be easily set aside.
I remember all planes were grounded. Duluth is a small city with an international airport. The silence in the sky was noticeable, especially when it was pock-marked by the streaking of fighter jets from the National Guard unit. Our co-workers, who were at a conference in Iowa had to rent a car to drive back to Duluth.
After a few days, while I was still focused relentlessly on the updates, I realized that watching the planes hitting the towers every twenty minutes was damaging my psyche. It just brought thoughts of what the passengers went through, what the people in the buildings went through and what all the families were going through back to the front of my mind. I kept hoping they would find survivors. I was relieved to hear that the buildings were not at the 10,000-occupancy rate originally estimated.
I watched a CEO of one of the companies with offices at the top of the towers being interviewed about the loss of his staff. To see a CEO break down in tears, in uncontrolled sorrow was something I never expected. I remember thinking that he was “not going to be right” and would need a lot of therapy. I wonder how he’s doing these days. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone follow up with him.
I have one good memory of this awful event, and that is the unity I felt with all Americans, as short-lived as it was. I drove the seven-hour drive to Milwaukee shortly after 9-11. I remember seeing flags everywhere. I even saw some people standing on an overpass waving a giant flag. It burned in me the belief that, no matter how divided we are in our beliefs in policy in this country, we certainly believe in its spirit and our pride as a nation. We seem to get caught up in petty competitions about who is more patriotic, and who is disrespecting our country: flag, constitution, anthem, etc. I think that saying politicians don’t care about this country or its citizens is ever fair to say. We all care. We absolutely all want this country and the ideals it upholds to succeed.
It took many years before I could watch the video of those giant planes hitting the towers again. Even today it still makes the hair on my arms stand up in a creepy, surreal feeling. I hope I never have to bear witness to another event like that again. I don’t understand how people can watch movies of apocalyptic or terrorist scenarios. I will always remember the unspeakable sadness and intense horror I felt when those towers came down on what could’ve been 10,000 people. Watching as the whole world explodes, or millions, thousands, any people die is not entertaining in any way to me. And no movie or special effects will ever compare to the reality that unfolded on 9-11.
