story8629.xml
Title
story8629.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-11-06
911DA Story: Story
I am employeed by a major business aircraft manufacturer and on September 11th we happend to have a large display of our aircraft scheduled just across the Hudson River at the Teterboro, NJ airport.
A colleague was to fly up from North Carlolina in his single engine aircraft, pick me up at Dulles Airport and continue on to Teterboro. A little after 8 am we took off and headed north. As I think back now I can vividly recall taxing past the American Airlines gates at Dulles. I can see Flight 97 parked at the gate (although I of course didn't know it was Flight 97 at the time). It was not until a couple of days later that I learned we had lost a neighbor who was traveling aboard AA Flight 97 that day.
The day was picture perfect, it was a great day to fly. My colleague and I both commented on what a beautiful day it was and chatted about work, home, the kids. It was a great day.
Somewhere past Philadelphia we picked up a call from ATC: "New York Center is no longer accepting traffic". My colleague and I just looked at each other with puzzled looks of disbelief. What the heck was that all about. After a moment my collegue asked ATC to "say again". The response was, "New York Center is no longer accepting traffic, state your intentions". When we pressed the controller as to what was going on he stated that there was an "emergency" in the area and that he could not disclose the nature of the emergency over the frequency.
I have to hand it to my collegue, he looked at me and simply said "terrorist". Again the controller asked us to "state our intentions".
Knowing that we could not proceed to our orignial destination, we asked the controller to vector us to Trenton, NJ. As we lined up for our approach into the Trenton Airport, we could see a growing line of aircraft behind us. Upon landing, the Trenton tower told us that a "small aircraft" had flown into the World Trade Center. Right before we shut the engine down, the tower came back to say that a second aircraft had flown into the World Trade Center.
As my colleague shut down the aircraft I ran inside the FBO to secure a rental car. I used my mobile phone to call my wife back in Northern Virginia and let her know we were ok. This was of course before the Pentagon was hit. After that quick call, the cell phone became practically useless due to the amount of calls jamming the system. By now the ramp was getting full and I could see many more aircraft on approach.
As the attendant filled out the rental car papers (the last one available I might add), I walked into the pilot's lounge to view the media coverage. There was crowed and all stared in disbelief as we watched the first replay of the second aircraft going into the tower. I remember how surreal the moment was, like watching an action movie. It just didn't feel real.
With many of our employees on the ground in the New York area for our display, we decided to drive up, make sure all were accounted for and assist in getting them out if necessary. Taking back roads due to heavy traffic, we soon noticed an unusual cloud formation in an otherwise cloudless day. After a moment I realized it was not a cloud, it was smoke, and we were still quite a distance from New York. That is when it started feeling real.
As we drove through Newark we could see the smoke cloud growing but we could not see Manhattan just yet. Somewhere along the way we heard radio reports that the Pentagon and, erronously, that the Mall had been hit. Unable to reach my wife by cell phone, my anxiety grew. I felt some securiety in the fact that, at that time, we lived in Chantilly. Quite a distance from the attack.
Just west of the Teterboro airport the road comes up over a hill. As we crested the hill and stopped for a redlight, we could finally gaze down into Manhattan. I'll never forget that sight of smoke and a dirty brown haze billowing up from the south end of the island. It was sickening, yet still surreal. It just could not be happening.
I finally reached my wife who was naturally quite upset due to the attack in Washington. She told me that the kids were ok and home from school. However, addding to the anxiety were the rumors that another aircraft was still in the air. She said fighter jets were roaring over the house. She was scared. I remember her asking me through tears, "when are you coming home?". What I could not say was, "I really didn't know". I told her as soon as I could. That was the toughest phone call of our married life and the one point in the day where I simply lost my composure.
We got our employees out of the airport and into a hotel in Parsipanny. All were shaken but holding up well. At that point I announced to all that I was commandeering our only rental car to drive back to Washington. Since it was our only retal car, and a scarce commodity, I had expected some possible protest. There was none. Another colleague from Savannah, GA raised his hand and asked to go with me. "I'll be 5 hours closer to Savannah" he noted. My colleague, not wanting to leave his aircraft, decided to stay and "wait it out". Bad decision. He too finally drove home to North Carolina days later.
With a few hugs we said our goodbyes and headed to Washington. I-95 was empty. It was an errie sight. Other than us, the only traffic were emergeny vehicles headed northbound in sporadic convoys of flashing lights. The Washington Beltway was also empty, a sight I had never witnessed.
Finally arriving home, there were hugs to go around and recollections of ours and our neighbors day. With the day over, we quitely wondered what the future would bring. All we could be sure of was that our lives were never going to be the same. "Normal" didn't apply anymore. Sleep did not come easy that night.
One year after the attacks, we gathered at a neighbors house for a cookout and to remember the husband and father who died on Flight 97. As the sun dropped below the trees, his family scattered his ashes over the golf course behind his home. The gesture seemed appropriate, since he loved the course and was able to play only once, on opening day, September 9, 2001. To say the moment was moving would do it a disservice. But the gesture will help his family, and perhaps all of us, move on.
More than any other image of that day, I'm haunted by the vivid memory of taxing past those American Airline jets that morning.
A colleague was to fly up from North Carlolina in his single engine aircraft, pick me up at Dulles Airport and continue on to Teterboro. A little after 8 am we took off and headed north. As I think back now I can vividly recall taxing past the American Airlines gates at Dulles. I can see Flight 97 parked at the gate (although I of course didn't know it was Flight 97 at the time). It was not until a couple of days later that I learned we had lost a neighbor who was traveling aboard AA Flight 97 that day.
The day was picture perfect, it was a great day to fly. My colleague and I both commented on what a beautiful day it was and chatted about work, home, the kids. It was a great day.
Somewhere past Philadelphia we picked up a call from ATC: "New York Center is no longer accepting traffic". My colleague and I just looked at each other with puzzled looks of disbelief. What the heck was that all about. After a moment my collegue asked ATC to "say again". The response was, "New York Center is no longer accepting traffic, state your intentions". When we pressed the controller as to what was going on he stated that there was an "emergency" in the area and that he could not disclose the nature of the emergency over the frequency.
I have to hand it to my collegue, he looked at me and simply said "terrorist". Again the controller asked us to "state our intentions".
Knowing that we could not proceed to our orignial destination, we asked the controller to vector us to Trenton, NJ. As we lined up for our approach into the Trenton Airport, we could see a growing line of aircraft behind us. Upon landing, the Trenton tower told us that a "small aircraft" had flown into the World Trade Center. Right before we shut the engine down, the tower came back to say that a second aircraft had flown into the World Trade Center.
As my colleague shut down the aircraft I ran inside the FBO to secure a rental car. I used my mobile phone to call my wife back in Northern Virginia and let her know we were ok. This was of course before the Pentagon was hit. After that quick call, the cell phone became practically useless due to the amount of calls jamming the system. By now the ramp was getting full and I could see many more aircraft on approach.
As the attendant filled out the rental car papers (the last one available I might add), I walked into the pilot's lounge to view the media coverage. There was crowed and all stared in disbelief as we watched the first replay of the second aircraft going into the tower. I remember how surreal the moment was, like watching an action movie. It just didn't feel real.
With many of our employees on the ground in the New York area for our display, we decided to drive up, make sure all were accounted for and assist in getting them out if necessary. Taking back roads due to heavy traffic, we soon noticed an unusual cloud formation in an otherwise cloudless day. After a moment I realized it was not a cloud, it was smoke, and we were still quite a distance from New York. That is when it started feeling real.
As we drove through Newark we could see the smoke cloud growing but we could not see Manhattan just yet. Somewhere along the way we heard radio reports that the Pentagon and, erronously, that the Mall had been hit. Unable to reach my wife by cell phone, my anxiety grew. I felt some securiety in the fact that, at that time, we lived in Chantilly. Quite a distance from the attack.
Just west of the Teterboro airport the road comes up over a hill. As we crested the hill and stopped for a redlight, we could finally gaze down into Manhattan. I'll never forget that sight of smoke and a dirty brown haze billowing up from the south end of the island. It was sickening, yet still surreal. It just could not be happening.
I finally reached my wife who was naturally quite upset due to the attack in Washington. She told me that the kids were ok and home from school. However, addding to the anxiety were the rumors that another aircraft was still in the air. She said fighter jets were roaring over the house. She was scared. I remember her asking me through tears, "when are you coming home?". What I could not say was, "I really didn't know". I told her as soon as I could. That was the toughest phone call of our married life and the one point in the day where I simply lost my composure.
We got our employees out of the airport and into a hotel in Parsipanny. All were shaken but holding up well. At that point I announced to all that I was commandeering our only rental car to drive back to Washington. Since it was our only retal car, and a scarce commodity, I had expected some possible protest. There was none. Another colleague from Savannah, GA raised his hand and asked to go with me. "I'll be 5 hours closer to Savannah" he noted. My colleague, not wanting to leave his aircraft, decided to stay and "wait it out". Bad decision. He too finally drove home to North Carolina days later.
With a few hugs we said our goodbyes and headed to Washington. I-95 was empty. It was an errie sight. Other than us, the only traffic were emergeny vehicles headed northbound in sporadic convoys of flashing lights. The Washington Beltway was also empty, a sight I had never witnessed.
Finally arriving home, there were hugs to go around and recollections of ours and our neighbors day. With the day over, we quitely wondered what the future would bring. All we could be sure of was that our lives were never going to be the same. "Normal" didn't apply anymore. Sleep did not come easy that night.
One year after the attacks, we gathered at a neighbors house for a cookout and to remember the husband and father who died on Flight 97. As the sun dropped below the trees, his family scattered his ashes over the golf course behind his home. The gesture seemed appropriate, since he loved the course and was able to play only once, on opening day, September 9, 2001. To say the moment was moving would do it a disservice. But the gesture will help his family, and perhaps all of us, move on.
More than any other image of that day, I'm haunted by the vivid memory of taxing past those American Airline jets that morning.
Collection
Citation
“story8629.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed December 16, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/15151.