story822.xml

story822.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-06-24

I was driving to work that beutiful, sunny, September morning from my home in Alexandria to Falls Church, Virginia. I had left late...around 8:40am as I had to go to a work-related dinner that evening. I always have the radio on in the car, and this morning was no exception. I was amazed when the announcer broke in to report that a twin engine plane had hit the World Trade Center in New York. Having grown up in the shadows of New York City in Fair Lawn, NJ, I immediately thought of people back home, but I really wasn't panicked. Honestly, I didn't really know what a twin engine plane was, and thought that a sightseeing plane had accidentally hit the tower. I proceeded to work. The building I work in is a large medical center, and we have several television sets in the lobby and waiting rooms, all tuned to CNN. I was immediately struck how everyone seemed to be huddled around the sets, and I could make out the CNN captions "Plane hits WTC". Again, the severity of the situation somehow escaped me, and I went up to my office. Several minutes passed, and my phone rang. It was my father, audibly upset. He works in Jersey City, next to Liberty State Park, and directly across the Hudson River from the WTC. "Did you hear about the planes?", he asked me. "Planes? I thought there was only one," I said, panic now starting to set in. "I saw the second one hit," he recalled, obviously shaken. I could hear the anxiety in his voice. I could also hear the PA system in his building in the background. It seemed that people did not know what to do...stay, or go home. While still on the phone with him, my other line rang. "Dad, stay put. Let me get this other line." I put him on hold, and picked up the other line. It was my mother. "Dominique is at the World Trade Center today." I'll never forget those words. Dominique, the lively 27 year old daughter of my mother's closest friend and coworker Barbara was in the worst possible place that morning. She didn't even normally work there. But, she had a training meeting for her company Marsh that morning. Barbara was trying to call her on her cell phone, without success. After a brief conversation with my mother, I went back to my father. Details get blurry, but I think I told him about Dominique and he told me he was heading home. I remember going out into the waiting room with coworkers to watch the events unfold on CNN. Watching the buildings fall, I sobbed audibly. I paced the hallways, telling people that my friend Dominique was there, and that no one had heard from her yet. Somewhere in the middle of all of this, the Pentagon got hit. We then started hearing all sorts of rumors...a car bomb at the State Department...an explosion at the FAA headquarters...it was awful. Management at my facility were having emergency meetings. Because I work in the healthcare field, they were looking for volunteers to go to local hospitals to assist as needed. I called my supervisor. I needed to go home. Driving home was surreal. Cars and people were clogging the streets. I could see the smoke from the Pentagon fire while driving home. I couldn't seem to get in touch with my uncle who works at the Navy Annex across from the Pentagon, so I drove to my aunt's office and learned he was okay. Police roadblocks were everywhere. I made it home, and shared stories with my neighbor who had been in DC that morning for a meeting. My friends Jay and Chuck brought there cats over, and stayed with me that whole day and night. Their apartment is in Pentagon City, and they took some pictures of the Pentagon from their aprtment windows. We watched the news most of the afternoon, in between calls to my family back home in NJ. Remarkably, I was able to get through most of the time. My cell phone was useless. No news about Dominique. "What if she's dead?" I cried to my mother. "Don't say that. We're not going there" she replied. At about 6pm, we decided we needed to take a break from the news, and walked to a nearby shopping center to get dinner. It was eerie...stores all had handwritten signs in the windows "Closed due to emergency." Starbucks was closed. The grocery store was closed. We did find a little restaurant and choked down some food. Strangers talked to one another and tried to digest what was happening. Some had gone to give blood, only to have been turned away...too many volunteers, they were told. We went back home, and I frantically checked my messages...no word on Dominique. By then, the phone lines were all jammed, and I couldn't get through. After a restless night, the phone rang at 5am. I picked up to hear my mother sobbing uncontrollably. I could barely understand her. Still no word. And reality was sinking in. Dominique was missing. And, as we would learn officially many months later when they were able to identify some of her remains, our dear friend Dominique Pandolfo lost her life at the World Trade Center, September 11, 2001.