story277.xml
Title
story277.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-03-19
911DA Story: Story
Personal Emergency National Tragedy
Four days ago marked the six-month anniversary of September 11th, a day burned into my mind like no other. An Infamous day that caused a whirlwind of emotion that included shock, fear, worry, remorse, and anger. It was so ironic for me to be in Washington DC that day. Even more ironic that I was there from September 10th thru most of the 12th. In all the years I lived just outside of Washington DC (a majority of my life) I had never stayed over night there. My mind spins every time I think of the unusual twist of fate that put me just over three and half miles from the Pentagon on September 11th, 2001. My father had Liver transplant surgery through the night September 10th and early morning on the 11th. We were at Georgetown University Hospital and my father was in recovery sleeping at six o?clock AM. The surgeon woke us with the telephone call I remember it scaring me straight up out of bed, because I did not remember falling asleep. The surgeon said dad would sleep for several hours, and that we should not see him until he is fully awake and off the respirator. I was happy his surgery went well and decided I was hungry.
We all got up, although my two daughters Stephanie (fourteen) and Tiffany (twelve) were a little more reluctant than I was. Everybody filed into the bathroom in turns until our typical grooming things were done. Stephanie naturally took the longest I have never seen anyone so meticulous about her hair. Bonnie (my step-mother) phoned relatives while the rest of us went to pick up breakfast to bring back to the hotel room. The hotel was connected to the hospital along with many conveniences such as restaurants, Starbucks coffee, etc. We returned to the room with breakfast around eight thirty. We ate slowly and talked, even joked around while we waited for someone to call saying dad was awake.
I think it was eight fifty or so when the phone rang, it was dad?s sister Judy and my Uncle Brian. They sounded hysterical on the phone to turn on the television. I ran over and turned on the television at the same time asking them what channel. They said it did not matter what channel. I remember as if in slow motion the picture slowly coming in to view. First it was fuzzy, a flame and some smoke coming from a tall building. The picture becoming clearer I recognized the familiar New York City skyline. Wow! The World Trade Center building was burning. Stephanie, Dawn, and I all jumped for the remote at the same time, because there was no volume. We all listened attentively as we heard the words. ?In New York City just moments ago, a hijacked passenger jet, American Airlines flight 11 out of Boston, Massachusetts flew into the World Trade Center?s south tower.? We were stunned; silence came over our room as we watched the television re-play the crash over and over and over again. The only sounds we heard were the people in the room saying ?oh my God.? After the initial shock wore off, I remember thinking that it could have been much worse if the plane had hit the tower lower, and I thought many of the people had a chance to get out. I had not even quite finished the thought when the second plane came.
It was just past nine o?clock as I recall, and at first, I thought it was the same view the station had played repeatedly until I realized the fire was already burning. The newscaster had an uncharacteristic panic in his voice as he said it was another plane. I could not watch the live shot. I was so repulsed by it I turned my head away and closed my eyes. I could not bear to watch those people die. I saw it many times after that, but it was some how different than seeing it live. I am not a psychologist so I could not even begin to understand the psychology of it. We watched for at least 15 minutes without a word or even a sound other than the air conditioner coming on.
I broke the silence shortly after the announcements came that the FAA had closed all New York City area airports, and the Port Authority of New York had ordered all tunnels and bridges closed. I told my daughters to pay close attention to what was happening because I believed this day would one day be in history books. They said they would, but they wanted to see Poppa (their name for my father). I realized they were right I looked at the clock it was about nine thirty. The president was on the television from Florida, but I decided to take a break from the national tragedy and check on dad. I told everyone I would return shortly, the girls wanted to come, but I told them no.
I went down the elevator to the hotel lobby. I took a big deep breath and realized I must not have been breathing deep at all since the first plane crashed. When I walked out into the lobby I was floored. There were easily a hundred people gathered all around a small television watching the news coverage. I rounded the corner and looked back at the faces of the people in the crowd they all had very grim looks on their faces. It reminded of my Grandfathers funeral. Stop it, I told myself; I cannot afford any more negative emotions today. I kept telling myself to keep moving just concentrate on dad right now. I just could not do it the tragedy was on the faces of all the passers by. I remember seeing a Middle Eastern couple walk by me and I tensed up, I even clenched my fists, and I felt my jaw tighten. I wanted to jump on them and beat them for what had happened. I literally had to restrain myself saying ? calm down Mark they had nothing to do with it.? I even argued with myself saying ? how do you know?? I finally put it out of my mind as I arrived at intensive care.
I looked at dad through the glass of his room. He was still out cold. He had lots of machines and hoses hooked up to him. The one that was most disturbing was the respirator. I felt tears welling up in my eyes my emotions going on overload. Tears streak down my face like the uncontrollable river. I walked out and into the bathroom to get myself back under control. I wiped my eyes and washed my face. I went back out to talk to his nurse. I could not look at him again at that moment. She said he would probably sleep for another hour and then he should wake, but he would not be able to talk until he is fully breathing on his own and the respirator is removed. She also said he would have his worst day that day or the next. It seemed like a year ago that I was at work having a typical day.
I thought back to the day before when I was working away. The phone rang; it was my wife Dawn. ? Mark?, she said, ?you have to come home right away.? ?Your dad is on the way to the hospital -- he got a liver.? I told her I would be home in an hour. She said that she would pack and arrange childcare for our two sons. Evan had just turned six, and Bradley was three, too young to understand what was happening. I got home and we piled into the van. Dawn had already taken the boys to a neighbor?s house. She said our friend Laurie would be picking them up later for a sleepover. They thought it was a fun outing, which I felt good about. Dad had been living in a nursing home, because of a painful hernia as well as liver disease, mainly for pain management. We arrived at the hospital around four o?clock. There was a lot of paperwork to fill out as well as blood tests and the usual preparation one goes through before surgery. I could tell dad was nervous. I could here it in his voice as he spoke kind of quivery. I remember joking with him trying to keep his spirits up. We were at a teaching hospital, the young student doctors moving through the hospital ward carried book bags. I told dad his doctor had a ?pokemon? book bag. We all got a laugh out of that albeit a short-lived laugh. When they took him for surgery, I gave him a big hug and told him I loved him knowing it was possible he may not survive surgery. That is when we left for the hotel to wait for a word about his surgery. When I came out of my flashback trance, I focused on dad?s television. I decided to turn it on because I knew he would want to know what was happening. I turned without looking at him and said ?I?ll be back a little later dad to check on you.?
It must have been around ten o?clock when I was walking back to the hotel. I noticed people walking a little faster than earlier. I just figured more people were at work than earlier. I kept catching little bits of conversation that had me wondering what had happened while I was away. I heard a couple of nurses talking as they brushed by saying we are a back up hospital for any overflow. I realized my pace became quicker and quicker to get back to a television. I did not even think to look in the lobby I just jumped on the elevator and up I went. I burst in to the room and everyone at once said a plane crashed into the Pentagon. Oh my God! We are pretty close to the Pentagon! I ran over to the hotel window. I could see black smoke filling the air a short distance away. I saw a helicopter flying around the smoke. I just stared at it in disbelief. What if there are other planes, I thought, Could we all be in danger? I thought I better get back to the television so I know what is going on.
I no more turned my head to see the World Trade Center?s south tower collapse. Dawn say?s the sight of the tower collapsing and seeing all the people running away from the tidal wave of dust, dirt, and debris overtaking many will haunt her forever. The first thing we thought about were all of the people that may have been inside the building as well as the fireman, ambulance crews, and people in nearby buildings. Then the realization occurs to us that the other tower will most likely fall as well. We had been hearing a report of another plane that was missing, and found out it was United Airlines flight ninety-three. Dawn said when she called to check on the boys that Laurie had said the neighborhood buzz was that Fort Detrick was the target just a few miles away. I was already overstressed, and then I had to worry about my boys too. I felt horrible when I felt relief about the plane crashing in a field in Pennsylvania. I told everyone in the room there were true American heroes on that plane. I said they did exactly what I would have done if I new what was happening. I guessed they had heard what was going on from the radio on board, and attempted to overtake the hijackers. We listened as the reports came in schools were closed, buildings all over DC were being evacuated. International flights were diverted from the U.S. to Canada. The horror of hearing that just a few miles away part of the Pentagon building collapsed. The terror of the north tower collapsing in New York was like seeing twins burning together in a house fire. The telephone broke the tension in the room; Bonnie grabbed it before the first ring finished.
She said the hospital staff was getting concerned that dad had not woken up yet. They said he should have been up an hour or two before. It was a little after twelve by now. Bonnie said she would go over and find out what was going on. She later called to let us know she was going to stay there a while to help try to wake him. She explained the danger of him being on a respirator longer, which increases the risk for pneumonia. Meanwhile Dawn, the girls, and I all watched the news coverage.
I think it was around one thirty when they declared a state of emergency in Washington DC. It was just as well we had a hotel room because they all would fill up quickly I assumed. The girls were complaining they were hungry so we all decided to meet in the cafeteria for lunch. We ate pizza at a little round table and took a break from all the tragic events. I used the time to forget about everything and catch my breath. After lunch it was back to reality, we were all worried about dad.
I did not want to go back to him, but I new I could help him wake up. I begrudgingly made my way back to him. I sat beside him, and held his hand. I decided to tell him how lucky he was that he was able to sleep all day, because of the horrible events. I told him everything that had happened, and I do not know to this day if he heard me at all. I told him that I was sorry they could not repair his hernia at the same time as his transplant. I told him that his transplant was a success, and that before long he would be feeling better. Imagine my surprise when he squeezed my hand. I was happy when his eyes were squinting at me. I told him I would be right back and ran out to tell the nurse he was starting to wake. I asked that they call Bonnie in the room to let her know. By the time I went back in dad looked like he was back to sleep. I said loudly ?hi!? ?I am back,? his eyes opened a little. I could tell he was still out of it. I kept talking to him until he started pointing to his back. It was hard because he could not talk so we had to play a form of charades. Do you itch? He shook his head pointing to his back. Is something poking you? Yeah maybe that was it. He had an IV. hose lying under him. I moved it and I think he was better. He tried to sit up a little so I tried to adjust his bed a little. He then started pointing to his mouth. I said they could not take the respirator out yet until they are sure you are fully awake. He again shook his head and point to his mouth. Are you hungry? No, he shook. He again pointed to his mouth. Are you thirsty? Yeah that was it. I ran back out to the nurse and asked if he could have a drink. She said no. He could only have a little cotton swab of water on his tongue. She gave him one swab and left. He kept pointing to his mouth. I looked around and slipped him a couple of swabs of water. It was so hard there with him. He was constantly pointing to his mouth, and then his back. It was painful for me, because I could not help him. The nurse said they could not give him anything for pain until the next day, and that he was going to have a rough time for a while. I watched as he writhed in pain. He begged me for help, and I was helpless to do anything for him. Frustrated to tears I had to have Bonnie relieve me, because I could not take anymore. The events of the day had totally exhausted me in the middle of the afternoon. I decided to head back to the room.
I returned to the room, and watched the television until I drifted off to sleep. I slept until ten or eleven. When I woke, I did not know where I was at first until I remembered I was watching a trailer of hell all day.
Mark Windsor
Four days ago marked the six-month anniversary of September 11th, a day burned into my mind like no other. An Infamous day that caused a whirlwind of emotion that included shock, fear, worry, remorse, and anger. It was so ironic for me to be in Washington DC that day. Even more ironic that I was there from September 10th thru most of the 12th. In all the years I lived just outside of Washington DC (a majority of my life) I had never stayed over night there. My mind spins every time I think of the unusual twist of fate that put me just over three and half miles from the Pentagon on September 11th, 2001. My father had Liver transplant surgery through the night September 10th and early morning on the 11th. We were at Georgetown University Hospital and my father was in recovery sleeping at six o?clock AM. The surgeon woke us with the telephone call I remember it scaring me straight up out of bed, because I did not remember falling asleep. The surgeon said dad would sleep for several hours, and that we should not see him until he is fully awake and off the respirator. I was happy his surgery went well and decided I was hungry.
We all got up, although my two daughters Stephanie (fourteen) and Tiffany (twelve) were a little more reluctant than I was. Everybody filed into the bathroom in turns until our typical grooming things were done. Stephanie naturally took the longest I have never seen anyone so meticulous about her hair. Bonnie (my step-mother) phoned relatives while the rest of us went to pick up breakfast to bring back to the hotel room. The hotel was connected to the hospital along with many conveniences such as restaurants, Starbucks coffee, etc. We returned to the room with breakfast around eight thirty. We ate slowly and talked, even joked around while we waited for someone to call saying dad was awake.
I think it was eight fifty or so when the phone rang, it was dad?s sister Judy and my Uncle Brian. They sounded hysterical on the phone to turn on the television. I ran over and turned on the television at the same time asking them what channel. They said it did not matter what channel. I remember as if in slow motion the picture slowly coming in to view. First it was fuzzy, a flame and some smoke coming from a tall building. The picture becoming clearer I recognized the familiar New York City skyline. Wow! The World Trade Center building was burning. Stephanie, Dawn, and I all jumped for the remote at the same time, because there was no volume. We all listened attentively as we heard the words. ?In New York City just moments ago, a hijacked passenger jet, American Airlines flight 11 out of Boston, Massachusetts flew into the World Trade Center?s south tower.? We were stunned; silence came over our room as we watched the television re-play the crash over and over and over again. The only sounds we heard were the people in the room saying ?oh my God.? After the initial shock wore off, I remember thinking that it could have been much worse if the plane had hit the tower lower, and I thought many of the people had a chance to get out. I had not even quite finished the thought when the second plane came.
It was just past nine o?clock as I recall, and at first, I thought it was the same view the station had played repeatedly until I realized the fire was already burning. The newscaster had an uncharacteristic panic in his voice as he said it was another plane. I could not watch the live shot. I was so repulsed by it I turned my head away and closed my eyes. I could not bear to watch those people die. I saw it many times after that, but it was some how different than seeing it live. I am not a psychologist so I could not even begin to understand the psychology of it. We watched for at least 15 minutes without a word or even a sound other than the air conditioner coming on.
I broke the silence shortly after the announcements came that the FAA had closed all New York City area airports, and the Port Authority of New York had ordered all tunnels and bridges closed. I told my daughters to pay close attention to what was happening because I believed this day would one day be in history books. They said they would, but they wanted to see Poppa (their name for my father). I realized they were right I looked at the clock it was about nine thirty. The president was on the television from Florida, but I decided to take a break from the national tragedy and check on dad. I told everyone I would return shortly, the girls wanted to come, but I told them no.
I went down the elevator to the hotel lobby. I took a big deep breath and realized I must not have been breathing deep at all since the first plane crashed. When I walked out into the lobby I was floored. There were easily a hundred people gathered all around a small television watching the news coverage. I rounded the corner and looked back at the faces of the people in the crowd they all had very grim looks on their faces. It reminded of my Grandfathers funeral. Stop it, I told myself; I cannot afford any more negative emotions today. I kept telling myself to keep moving just concentrate on dad right now. I just could not do it the tragedy was on the faces of all the passers by. I remember seeing a Middle Eastern couple walk by me and I tensed up, I even clenched my fists, and I felt my jaw tighten. I wanted to jump on them and beat them for what had happened. I literally had to restrain myself saying ? calm down Mark they had nothing to do with it.? I even argued with myself saying ? how do you know?? I finally put it out of my mind as I arrived at intensive care.
I looked at dad through the glass of his room. He was still out cold. He had lots of machines and hoses hooked up to him. The one that was most disturbing was the respirator. I felt tears welling up in my eyes my emotions going on overload. Tears streak down my face like the uncontrollable river. I walked out and into the bathroom to get myself back under control. I wiped my eyes and washed my face. I went back out to talk to his nurse. I could not look at him again at that moment. She said he would probably sleep for another hour and then he should wake, but he would not be able to talk until he is fully breathing on his own and the respirator is removed. She also said he would have his worst day that day or the next. It seemed like a year ago that I was at work having a typical day.
I thought back to the day before when I was working away. The phone rang; it was my wife Dawn. ? Mark?, she said, ?you have to come home right away.? ?Your dad is on the way to the hospital -- he got a liver.? I told her I would be home in an hour. She said that she would pack and arrange childcare for our two sons. Evan had just turned six, and Bradley was three, too young to understand what was happening. I got home and we piled into the van. Dawn had already taken the boys to a neighbor?s house. She said our friend Laurie would be picking them up later for a sleepover. They thought it was a fun outing, which I felt good about. Dad had been living in a nursing home, because of a painful hernia as well as liver disease, mainly for pain management. We arrived at the hospital around four o?clock. There was a lot of paperwork to fill out as well as blood tests and the usual preparation one goes through before surgery. I could tell dad was nervous. I could here it in his voice as he spoke kind of quivery. I remember joking with him trying to keep his spirits up. We were at a teaching hospital, the young student doctors moving through the hospital ward carried book bags. I told dad his doctor had a ?pokemon? book bag. We all got a laugh out of that albeit a short-lived laugh. When they took him for surgery, I gave him a big hug and told him I loved him knowing it was possible he may not survive surgery. That is when we left for the hotel to wait for a word about his surgery. When I came out of my flashback trance, I focused on dad?s television. I decided to turn it on because I knew he would want to know what was happening. I turned without looking at him and said ?I?ll be back a little later dad to check on you.?
It must have been around ten o?clock when I was walking back to the hotel. I noticed people walking a little faster than earlier. I just figured more people were at work than earlier. I kept catching little bits of conversation that had me wondering what had happened while I was away. I heard a couple of nurses talking as they brushed by saying we are a back up hospital for any overflow. I realized my pace became quicker and quicker to get back to a television. I did not even think to look in the lobby I just jumped on the elevator and up I went. I burst in to the room and everyone at once said a plane crashed into the Pentagon. Oh my God! We are pretty close to the Pentagon! I ran over to the hotel window. I could see black smoke filling the air a short distance away. I saw a helicopter flying around the smoke. I just stared at it in disbelief. What if there are other planes, I thought, Could we all be in danger? I thought I better get back to the television so I know what is going on.
I no more turned my head to see the World Trade Center?s south tower collapse. Dawn say?s the sight of the tower collapsing and seeing all the people running away from the tidal wave of dust, dirt, and debris overtaking many will haunt her forever. The first thing we thought about were all of the people that may have been inside the building as well as the fireman, ambulance crews, and people in nearby buildings. Then the realization occurs to us that the other tower will most likely fall as well. We had been hearing a report of another plane that was missing, and found out it was United Airlines flight ninety-three. Dawn said when she called to check on the boys that Laurie had said the neighborhood buzz was that Fort Detrick was the target just a few miles away. I was already overstressed, and then I had to worry about my boys too. I felt horrible when I felt relief about the plane crashing in a field in Pennsylvania. I told everyone in the room there were true American heroes on that plane. I said they did exactly what I would have done if I new what was happening. I guessed they had heard what was going on from the radio on board, and attempted to overtake the hijackers. We listened as the reports came in schools were closed, buildings all over DC were being evacuated. International flights were diverted from the U.S. to Canada. The horror of hearing that just a few miles away part of the Pentagon building collapsed. The terror of the north tower collapsing in New York was like seeing twins burning together in a house fire. The telephone broke the tension in the room; Bonnie grabbed it before the first ring finished.
She said the hospital staff was getting concerned that dad had not woken up yet. They said he should have been up an hour or two before. It was a little after twelve by now. Bonnie said she would go over and find out what was going on. She later called to let us know she was going to stay there a while to help try to wake him. She explained the danger of him being on a respirator longer, which increases the risk for pneumonia. Meanwhile Dawn, the girls, and I all watched the news coverage.
I think it was around one thirty when they declared a state of emergency in Washington DC. It was just as well we had a hotel room because they all would fill up quickly I assumed. The girls were complaining they were hungry so we all decided to meet in the cafeteria for lunch. We ate pizza at a little round table and took a break from all the tragic events. I used the time to forget about everything and catch my breath. After lunch it was back to reality, we were all worried about dad.
I did not want to go back to him, but I new I could help him wake up. I begrudgingly made my way back to him. I sat beside him, and held his hand. I decided to tell him how lucky he was that he was able to sleep all day, because of the horrible events. I told him everything that had happened, and I do not know to this day if he heard me at all. I told him that I was sorry they could not repair his hernia at the same time as his transplant. I told him that his transplant was a success, and that before long he would be feeling better. Imagine my surprise when he squeezed my hand. I was happy when his eyes were squinting at me. I told him I would be right back and ran out to tell the nurse he was starting to wake. I asked that they call Bonnie in the room to let her know. By the time I went back in dad looked like he was back to sleep. I said loudly ?hi!? ?I am back,? his eyes opened a little. I could tell he was still out of it. I kept talking to him until he started pointing to his back. It was hard because he could not talk so we had to play a form of charades. Do you itch? He shook his head pointing to his back. Is something poking you? Yeah maybe that was it. He had an IV. hose lying under him. I moved it and I think he was better. He tried to sit up a little so I tried to adjust his bed a little. He then started pointing to his mouth. I said they could not take the respirator out yet until they are sure you are fully awake. He again shook his head and point to his mouth. Are you hungry? No, he shook. He again pointed to his mouth. Are you thirsty? Yeah that was it. I ran back out to the nurse and asked if he could have a drink. She said no. He could only have a little cotton swab of water on his tongue. She gave him one swab and left. He kept pointing to his mouth. I looked around and slipped him a couple of swabs of water. It was so hard there with him. He was constantly pointing to his mouth, and then his back. It was painful for me, because I could not help him. The nurse said they could not give him anything for pain until the next day, and that he was going to have a rough time for a while. I watched as he writhed in pain. He begged me for help, and I was helpless to do anything for him. Frustrated to tears I had to have Bonnie relieve me, because I could not take anymore. The events of the day had totally exhausted me in the middle of the afternoon. I decided to head back to the room.
I returned to the room, and watched the television until I drifted off to sleep. I slept until ten or eleven. When I woke, I did not know where I was at first until I remembered I was watching a trailer of hell all day.
Mark Windsor
Collection
Citation
“story277.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed May 19, 2024, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/19746.