My husband, Ron, and I used to be avid listeners of KGO radio. It was on in our home in Los Banos 24 hours a day. While we slept, it was sort of a comforting white noise.
I was in that strange place in between sleep and knowing that soon the alarm would go off to signal another workday. At first, I thought that the strange words I was hearing were part of a strange dream. Then I sat up.
They were saying something about a plane flying into one of the Twin Towers in New York City. Suddenly I was wide awake, and I shook Ron so he could hear the breakthrough as well.
At first, Ron shook it off with one of his familiar work travelogues. He began telling me once more about how he had helped build those towers and that they were the strongest buildings in the world.
I told him to be quiet and to just listen. The words that the newscaster was uttering seemed impossible to me, so maybe I was just sleeping. Suddenly the whole world changed; the impossible became not only possible, but we were living it.
I quickly called my three children and told them to put on their radio. I imagine that type of call was happening in households and businesses all across America, if not the world. Those three words were being used everywhere: “Did you hear?”
I remember my mother telling me a story from many decades ago, in a different century, a different world. She was sitting in a car with my father, listening to their radio when the words broke over the music. The Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor. Our men and women were asleep, unaware that a moment of infamy was upon them.
Mother would tell me that the world changed right at that moment. I knew then, instinctively, even before the second plane crashed into the other Twin, this was to be our moment of infamy.
Hijackers! How? Why? From where? Where next? Are we near the next target? Is this the beginning of our long-dreaded World War III?
Passengers on the planes made phone calls to loved ones, aware that these conversations would likely be their final communication. We, like all of you, were glued to our television for what seemed like days. We all shuddered with each new plane hitting.
The Pentagon was known as our center of military power. I could picture the building so well. In my youth, my uncle, who worked there at the time, took my family on a tour.
“This building is a fortress. No country in the world had the brain truss that America does,” General Alex told us, “We are invincible. There will never be another Pearl Harbor for us.”
Imagine the fear of the passengers on the plane flying over empty fields in Pennsylvania when the hijackers announced their presence and took over their plane. Those passengers knew, and their first thought was to call their loved ones to tell them they loved them.
All of the many things these people had worried about before that horrible moment melted away. What did any of that really matter?[1] [2] All that was important to them at this point was to hear their loved one’s voice one final time.
Imagine the utter sadness of those who had been out and were unable to pick up their call. Imagine coming home and checking your messages. Can we even imagine?
Then think of those brave passengers who decided they would not die in vain, and who plotted to break into the cockpit and stop the evil terrorist pilots from continuing to their suspected target: the White House.
Many called their spouses to inform them of their mission, shouting out, “Let’s roll!” We will never know how many lives were saved by these brave passengers. Would we have frozen in fear? Could we have found the inner fortitude?
It was reported at the time that there were 800 people dead at the Pentagon. A total of 266 people perished on the airplane. Predictions were that there were 2,000 dead on that dreadful day, but many feared that was too conservative an estimate.
It was said that at any given time, over 300,000 people, employees or visitors, were at the World Trade Center. It was early Monday morning when people were getting into their work routine.
There were deadlines to make, people to interview, reports being revised, secretaries listening to their bosses, messengers on their route, cooks and staff busy in the restaurants, workers cleaning bathrooms; it was a microcosm of the world just doing their jobs. It was just another day. Until it wasn’t.
The first passenger plane hijacked was headed for Los Angeles; it hit at 8:45 a.m. EST. Then, 20 short minutes later, the next passenger plane struck the other tower.
By then the world was watching. We all watched the approaching plane of doom, helpless, horrified as it flew into the building. It seemed that the Tower swallowed it whole.
We were witnesses as people, trapped in a hell that was inconceivable, made the quick decision of staying in the growing inferno or jumping, plunging to their certain death. We were witness to their fate as we watched death in slow motion.
Some, perhaps strangers, held each other’s hands as they leapt. We observed as thousands entered, prioritizing the rescue of lives without regard for their own personal safety. How can we ever thank these brave people enough?
Some are still dying today from the air they breathed in that day of horror and the remaining days of sorting through the remains, desperate to find people alive.
At least three hundred firefighters were lost in their valiant mission to save lives, and at least 70 were missing. Thousands of those injured filled nearby hospitals. The anguished friends and family members of those who had loved ones in the buildings began their quest to find out if or where.
Over 30,000 flights were cancelled as we wondered, is it over? Is it, will it, ever be safe to fly our skies again? Mayor Rudy Giuliani said, “Hatred and insanity and prejudice caused this situation,” he warned, “The number of casualties will be more than any of us can bear.”
People ran in sheer panic, the smoke so dense it seemed like night. Over 80,000 units of blood were flown to the site by the Red Cross.
Americans were all desperate to do something to help. Churches of all denominations were full, and heaven must have received millions upon millions of prayers.
There have been volumes upon volumes written about this day, this time of infamy. Words and statistics that many have forgotten, as sadly, people do as time passes. But we really cannot afford to forget.
Three images of those times cross my mind as I type this. My daughter and I had plans to go to Cambria the following weekend of the carnage. It seemed that everywhere we drove, there were American flags proudly hung. Signs were everywhere, on lawns, in front of businesses, in windows, proclaiming support for our country.
We scoured all the shops for any patriotic symbol, but store after store explained they had been sold out. Finally, we found an American flag placemat. We put it up in our hotel room.
Less than two years later, my daughter Leslie and I flew into New York City, mindful of what had happened that fateful day. We walked the streets with still lingering evidence of the tragedy. Fire stations had signs up to inform passersby how many of their men had died. Then we slowly walked towards the spot where the Twin Towers had once dominated the sky.
It felt that our breath disappeared in anticipation. You are never prepared for such a sight. Around the cemetery of souls stood fences guarding. Those fences are still filled with flowers and pictures of the missing.
You could not help but look up and try to imagine, not really wanting to imagine, that scene of horror that had melted into our consciousness. My daughter and I held hands, and then silent tears began to flow.
My last thought is this. Do you remember the unity we all felt in those days? We were indeed united states. We pulled together as one in faith and determination. I remember that so well. There were no us Ems, or you Ems, or they ums. It was all just Americans. Remember? How we all pledged to never forget?
Sadly, too many have forgotten that united feeling that we had far more in common than not. It was a proud time of little hate, revenge, name-calling. Have we all forgotten? We are the United States of America. Together we stand, divided we fall. Let us all take a moment this week to remember.
