story5681.xml

story5681.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-11

I was home that morning with my then 3-year old son. I had Diane Sawyer's show on low on the television as I played with my son. I remember the screen suddenly changed to a helicopter showing a fire at one of the Twin Towers. I turned up the volume, but it was still unclear to those broadcasting what had happened. They believed that maybe a plane had crashed into the Tower, though there was no confirmation. Suddenly, to the right of the screen, an airplane came into view. My mind scrambled to make sense of what I was seeing and I was hollering "turn the plane, turn the plane!" I screamed as I helplessly watched the airplane crash directly into the World Trade Center, the other Tower. My mind was still scrambling to make sense of what I was witnessing. Had the pilot become confused? What the HELL was going on?? I was crying. The voices on the television were saying "attack". Oh, Dear Lord, this couldn't be. I ran for the phone, calling my sister and dear friend, Cheryl, to tell of what I just witnessed. Now, the voices on the television were speaking of people jumping out windows. Another plane hit the Pentagon. I am devastated and scared now. My country is under attack! I call my daughter's school to notify I am coming to get her. I need her home. My family MUST be together. The line is repeatedly busy. There is talk of a plane crash in Pennsylvania. My scrambling mind is now thinking that planes are dropping all over the country, killing and causing devastation everywhere, as if in a bad movie. Thankfully, the plane in Pennsylvania is the last one reported. Air space is now closed. The school phone line is still busy! I am watching the events unfold on my television. Crying. Praying. Praying that the firemen and policemen are able to get everybody safely out of the Towers. I am routing them on, not at all prepared for what I was about to witness. The collapse. Oh, Dear God, all of those people. Oh, no! Please, no! I am shaking and crying now. I feel like I am trapped in a nightmare. I pull myself together and go to the school to pick up my daughter. She knows of the news. She, too, is scared. She asks me, "will we be alright, Mommy?" I tell her that air space is closed. The military is guarding. She feels reassured, though sticks close the rest of the day and night. That night, she asks to sleep with me. I say O.K. without hesitation.