story63.xml

story63.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-02-18

On September 8, 2001 I arrived home at Dulles Airport from a very sad trip to San Diego - my wedding had been scheduled for September 8 and for many reasons had just been called off. Friends were still out on the West Coast in San Diego, having traveled to participate in the ceremony.

On the morning of September 11, I was at home, a new home we had just moved into, trying to decide on whether or not I should unpack some boxes. My ex-fiance had left our house around 9:00am to get some coffee for a trip he was about to take to visit with his family. He rushed through the door and told me to jump online, because he had heard on the radio that a plane had hit the World Trade Center.

It was nearly impossible to get a connection at that point, web pages were showing very little text with mixed graphics and with only a dial-up connection on an already jammed server finding information wasn't easy. I wish we could have used the television - but we still hadn't had the chance to hook our cable up.

Under protest for his safety, he left on his trip any way (I almost think he wasn't totally conscious of the magnitude of the events taking place), and I went to the gym where there are televisions in front of every treadmill, I ran and walked for more than 3 hours - it felt like 10 minutes and I watched the saddest story I've ever seen slowly unfold before my eyes and in front of the nation. I kept thinking that I had just flown in through Dulles a few days earlier - the same place where terrorists had flown out from.

My immediate thoughts went to my friends, still on the west coast, trying to get home - where were they - were they safe - were they afraid to travel home? One of my dearest friends had just flown through Trenton, and the rest through Dulles. At that moment, I had not even considered the possibility of knowing someone in the Trade Center, which sadly as I later found out was the case.

Living so close to the airport and being placed directly in the flight pattern, I have to say that the next several days were spent in an errie quietness. I almost wished for the noise of the planes - when air travel resumed I would found myself waking up short of breath wondering where the low flying plane over my house was heading. There were nightmares about those planes that stayed with me for weeks.

At the time, I was working for an already struggling e-business firm, Idea Integration. As a result of market forecasts in the wake of September 11, in an already unstable economy moving towards "recession," I was laid-off the day I returned to work - two weeks severance - health care terminated at the close of business that day.

I'm sure this is mentioned by a lot of people, but it all felt like a bad dream.

I stopped listening to any radio stations that played music for the next couple of weeks, concentrating only on the newscasts of 9/11/01 and the fallout that was taking place around the world and specifically in our economy and in the job market. I watched countless specials on t.v., trying to keep up with things as they had happened and were happening. I flew a flag in my yard - and took it's meaning much closer to heart - as did many other Americans.

And as I slowly realized that there were friends I had living in New York who had been directly affected - it became increasingly real.

I was home when it happened, my narrative lacks a heoric dimesion, but I think there is value in it though, because my life was professionally and personally altered in ways that will forever be a part of who I am and what September 11 made of me.