story332.xml

story332.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-03-31

The morning of September 11, 2001 brough bright, sunny, mild late-summer weather. It was fairly normal except that I had a somewhat unexpected day off. I had FOX-5 News on and was half-listening to it as I was getting ready to make breakfast while browsing the Internet. That changed when one of the anchors said something about going live to New York City where "the World Trade Center is on fire." I looked over to the TV and there it was - - the South Tower on fire, as big as life.

I forgot about breakfast and sat down at my computer to search for some news as the news anchors continued to talk about what was happening, mentioning the plane that hit the Empire State Building decades ago. I remember thinking to myself that this was a freak accident, that while disastrous, it would be OK in the long run. But suddenly, a big fireball filled half the screen, and the news guys just lost it. "Oh, there's an explosion! That's it -- someone's deliberately flying planes into buildings!" I just sat there in shock. I couldn't believe this was happening. My thoughts then went out to a close friend living in Staten Island, but possibly in Manhattan at the time (turns out she was still in Staten Island at the time, though I didn't know for almost a week). But little did I know that the terrorists weren't through just yet.

I don't remember exactly when, but I heard a rumbling noise outside my window, which overlooked Columbia Pike in Arlington. I didn't know at the time, but a plane had struck the Pentagon at that moment, about 2-1/2 miles due east of me. The news anchors interrupted someone they were talking to from New York and immediately went to live coverage of "an explosion reported at the Pentagon." The now-familiar scene of black smoke pouring out of the fortress-like office building filled the screen. There were more rumblings outside, followed by an explosion that vibrated the walls and windows of my apartment. Minutes later, there was another report of a plane heading for Washington, which was alarming considering that the FAA airspace ban had taken effect. I don't remember anytime I felt more frightened in recent years, staring out the window watching for a wayward jumbo jet. Terrorism, which up until then had only been a news item from a distance, had struck home in Arlington County. Police, fire, and emergency sirens blared almost continuously all day.

As I was watching for the plane, which eventually crashed near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, after an apparent heroic passenger uprising, I looked over to the TV and saw the World Trade Center shrouded in smoke. I didn't realize what had happened until whoever was talking (Dan Rather, I think) said that one of the towers had fallen. A few minutes later, the other tower collapsed. And at some point during that time, the Pennsylvania crash was reported - - first as a possible military shoot-down, but later confirmed as a crash. All I can really recall at the time was a numbness - - not quite sadness, not quite rage, not quite anything. My sister in Philadelphia did call me to make sure I was OK; my parents, who were in Orlando, Florida, that day and stranded by the FAA flight ban, didn't catch me until that Thursday. Local news coverage continued to show continuous updates of the Pentagon and the impromptu and virtual evacuation of Washington. At around 11:30 I took a blank tape and began recording news coverage, switching channels periodically to get a permanent record of the events. The tape ran all day, stopping just to make sure I had enough to get President Bush's announced speech that evening.

Later that day I had to get out of my apartment, so I got in my car and drove around town. It was surreal, to say the least. Many streets miles away from the Pentagon were closed, and traffic was awful in places. As I pulled back into my apartment complex, I was able to see a dissapating plume of smoke rising above Columbia Pike. Despite all I had seen on television, that will probably be my lasting image of that day.