September 11 Digital Archive

story495.xml

Title

story495.xml

Source

born-digital

Media Type

story

Created by Author

yes

Described by Author

no

Date Entered

2002-05-02

911DA Story: Story

This piece was submitted to the archive, by an Arlington County Teacher, Cassidy Nolen:

Tonight I Cried, September 12, 2001

It was a few minutes before dusk when I decided I had to go. I was just leaving school and looked out to watch the long rays of the sun shoot through the trees on this warm evening. I was reluctantly on my way to do something I had been hesitant about all day.

Hospitals are always cold and scary to me. I know they are full of sick people, but for the first time in my life, I went into one as a healthy man. Not to see someone I know or love, rather for someone I do not know. Fear of needles, dizziness and a myriad of other thoughts were going through my mind as I was comforted by hand drawn signs saying ?Blood Donors? with a poorly drawn arrow pointing to the next never ending hallway. I was going to do my part. I have been emotional about the entire event, but until this point, I only speculated how I would feel if I could ?do? my part. The waiting room to donate blood was a lobby set up with chairs, a TV, and a pile of bagels, coffee makers and muffins. There was a reception table (a folding one, with a table cloth; trying to resemble some sense of professionalism), some very tired looking workers, and a sign that said ?Thank you for donating blood?. I was unable to donate then, so I placed my name on a call list for them to contact me later. Apparently, there is such an outpouring of support; the entire area hospital network blood bank is full. What a wonderful surprise. Again, I now knew with the remaining rays of twilight sun, I needed to go.

Alexandria hospital is about a half mile from I395, the main road into the District from Northern Virginia. I was anxious, not because I wanted to see the ?gore?, but not sure if I waited any longer whether I would lose the nerve to go or not. I took in the surroundings of the highway, wondering ?why not one of these other buildings?. For the first time in my life, I, a Washingtonian, a citizen of the United States, was concerned for my safety.


As a high school Junior at the age of 16, the Persian Gulf War seemed to be my ?Vietnam?. I studied the expressions on teachers faces who had been teaching the last time there was a call to war, and they did not look hopeful of the prospect of giving the class of 92 the send off they had 23 years ago. I would turn 17 in just days after the war started, and had there been a draft the following year, I certainly would not have been the man I am today. I was escorted off of a military base the night we declared war with Iraq. I will never forget listening to the sounds on my Mother?s Ford car radio, listening to us bombing Baghdad. But that fight was far away. I could not feel the earth move under my feet. I only wish I could say the same for yesterday.


As I drove, I passed a shopping mall on my right side, and thought how fortunate I am. I have a nice car, a fianc?e, a great job, and all the blessings this world can offer. Yesterday changed those things for so many and for what? I wanted to see the Monuments; I wanted to see the things that separated DC from Austin or Los Angeles. I have traveled the world, and am proud to say I am from DC. As the road dipped into a valley, I could see the air traffic lights in the Washington monument as they flashed in their never-ending diligence. I have never been so glad to see them.

As I passed the Washington Boulevard overpass, I saw an image I will never forget as long as I am alive. There was the Pentagon, in all of its splendor, with a mortal wound. I saw an American Flag larger than my home hanging down the right side of the still standing walls. There was no smoke, no fire to see. The surrounding area was littered with machinery and vehicles I could not make out. I got over onto the exit lane. Driving became difficult, as I now felt what television could never convey. I wept as I drove into the visitor parking lot. I will never forget sobbing, holding the wheel with one hand and my face with the other. This is MY home, how dare they? Now, after two days of passive involvement, it was personal.


Climbing up Army Navy Drive, I found a staircase that twisted up the hills of an apartment complex at the end of Arlington Ridge. From the high point, you could see everything that was going on. It was the end of daylight, night was taking over and dozen or so people looked on with amazement at what was the military central headquarters of the free world. I bowed my head and prayed for the loss of life, the peace of the families and the resolution of this matter as fast as possible. I did not stay long; I did not need to take photos. The images burned into my mind are far clearer than any camera could ever capture.


My life has been changed. My home has been changed. I will never walk through the doors of my school building and not remember standing there as the explosion at the Pentagon shook my body like a bass speaker. I will not forget the Congress and Senate singing God Bless America. I remembered thinking to myself yesterday as the media reported more hijacked planes, who would have to decide to bring down a plane full of civilians with weapons designed for war? Those planes had moms and dads, teddy bears and baseballs, and symbolized everything this country stands for. We all lost our family that day. Black, White, Hispanic, Asian, all Americans had a member of our family, our walk of life taken from us yesterday.

We remember Pearl Harbor on film and in textbooks. Our parents tell stories about the fear of the Cuban Missile Crisis, and now, unfortunately, our generation has those stories to tell our children. Fortunately, there are bedtime stories of valor, unity, strength, and great men and women that bond together in a time of need. I saw tonight a lobby full of chairs for people trying to give blood. They sat empty, but the sheet for the weeks to come was full, with 2 numbers and names in the boxes. Sheets had numbers scribbled at the bottom because they were too full. Our President has assured us we will bring justice at any means necessary. I fear for what that means.

Tonight I cried. Yesterday a sense of safety and comfort died. I pray for the lives, for the men and women working to save whomever they can, and I am proud to be an American. Jealous acts against us amount to no more than teasing on a playground to the American ideals. I stand in pride and offer myself to support my country and do what I can to ensure its safety. So that no one must ever bear witness to these atrocities again, we must look to the past for answers, and forge permanent solutions for the future. I would urge whomever, wherever, to avoid hatred. Make decisions based on wisdom, not anger or hurt, so that these lives wont have been lost in vein, but in compliment and testament to the values of Americans everywhere. May God bless us all in this time of need.

Cassidy Nolen

September 12, 2001

Citation

“story495.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed January 25, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/11773.