story2083.xml

story2083.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-10

On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was working in the computer room of the McAllen Sector Border Patrol Headquarters. I was there as part of a team on an information-gathering visit regarding a computer system that we install and support. We had flown to McAllen the day before from our home office in S. Burlington, Vermont. One of the women that were going off-shift came into the room where I was, saying, "A plane just hit the World Trade Center!? My first thought was that it was an accident, similar to the incident when a US Air Force bomber crashed into the Empire State Building. Although this sounded bad, it did not seem like more than an accident.
We went into the Communications Center to watch CNN to find out what had happened. A short time later, we learned that another plane had struck the second tower of the Trade Center. The information that was available at the time was incomplete, and much of it could not be confirmed. I can't remember when terrorism was first mentioned, but we watched and listened to President Bush when he addressed the nation from Florida. A real feeling of dread came over me when the Pentagon was struck a few minutes later. At that point, it seemed as if there was no stopping the progression of terrible news.
With the Pentagon as a target, my concern became more real and personal, as my younger brother occasionally works there. I had no way of knowing whether or not he was that that day. Another issue was the fact that my wife was on a short business trip that day, driving to Boston for a retail clothing show. I had no way to contact her, but called the store where she works and was speaking to the clerk when the first tower collapsed. This was more of a shock to me than the actual attacks, as I had seen some TV programs about the building itself, and knew it was engineered to withstand the impact of a large plane. It had done so, but I couldn't understand what had caused it to fall. Peg couldn't stay on the telephone, but I left a message with her to pass to my wife in the event that she called, to say that we were OK in our location, and that I would call her later. I also tried to call my mother in Baltimore to assure her, but was unable to get through.
We attempted to continue with our work, as it was somewhat of a distraction, but there were several televisions on in the buildings we were in, and it was hard to miss the coverage. In a little while, the second tower fell, and my feelings of despair deepened. At some point, I realized that there would be retribution from the US, but no one could say where we would strike. I was not successful contacting my mother at her home in Baltimore, but finally reached my brother at his house. He had been sent home from Fort Meade, where his office is. We spoke for a while, and he told me that he would talk to our parents as soon as he could.
As the site where we were working is a federal law enforcement agency building, they went to the highest level of alert. Vehicles were pulled up into the portico to block the building, and armed agents were posted at the entrances. At their feet were boxes of live ammunition in clips for their weapons. If we had not already made our entrance earlier in the day, we would have been turned away. As it was, we continued to work to the best of our ability, but I found it difficult to focus on the tasks, as my mind would wander to the thought of "what's next?.....? The word "war" was heard frequently, and I believed it would happen.
When we went to our hotel that evening, the big screen TV was turned to either CNN of Fox News, with constant coverage. It was impossible to ignore, and we of course were concerned about getting home on Friday, which was our scheduled departure day. I spoke to my family; my wife and two kids. The concern was evident in their voices, I could tell they were worried. We discussed flying when it would be possible again, and the chance of driving home. It is 2300 mile drive; not one I would like to take. The three of us in Texas had decided that if one chose not to fly, we would drive together. Much thought and discussion went into the possibility or the need of driving. At some point, the constant coverage became too much of a distraction, so I did my best to avoid the TV in the hotel atrium.
As it turned out flights became available on Friday, and I could be ticketed to Cleveland, with the hope that Burlington would open. When I got to the airport Friday morning, I spoke to my wife, and found out that Burlington airport was open, so I had hope of making it home. The initial flight from McAllen to Houston was only partially full. Upon landing, I saw a strange sight; dozens of airplanes, parked on the pavement, lined up in rows. George Bush Airport, Terminal C, normally a bustling place, was nearly deserted. Our second leg, from Houston to Cleveland was a little more than half-full and over half of the people on the plane were flight attendants and pilots. They were being moved to be able to fly other flights that had been delayed. In Cleveland, we were lucky enough to get a flight and make it into Burlington on time, with no problems.
My family met me at the airport, something they had not done in a couple of years. It was a very emotional reunion; we were able to release some of the pent-up feelings that we had suppressed during the week. It had been rough on my wife and kids, with me away during this difficult time, and they had been worried about me. As we left the airport, there was a group of people holding a candle-light vigil, and there was a group of firefighters at the next intersection holding a vigil as well. These displays added to the emotion of the evening, We went out to dinner and had a nice time catching up with each other. I was glad to be home and they were glad to have me home!