September 11 Digital Archive

nmah6588.xml

Title

nmah6588.xml

Source

born-digital

Media Type

story

Created by Author

yes

Described by Author

no

Date Entered

2004-09-07

NMAH Story: Story

On the morning of September 11th, 2001, I was on duty at United Air Lines as a flight attendant based in Newark, NJ. My assigned flight was 9010, a charter carrying the New York Football Giants on their return flight from Denver. I was one of four flight attendants chosen by the New York Giants to fly them to all of their away games, an honor spanning three decades. The Giants had just lost to the Denver Broncos on Monday Night Football whose opening day was made more festive than usual by the official opening of the Broncos new stadium, Invesco Field. Exhausted from play, pensive and reflective from their loss and the late hour caused most of the team to seek sleep as best they could on a cramped B757 aircraft.
We landed about 6 AM on 9/11 and taxied into Termial A at Newark International Airport. We parked a mere few hundred feet from United Flight 93 that was in the beginning stages of preparation for its scheduled 8 AM departure. As the team groggily awoke and boarded the three busses planeside that would take them to Giants Stadium, I gathered my belongings and headed through the surprisingly quiet terminal for baggage claim, passing only a few passengers along the way. Ironically, some of those outbound passengers were headed for Flight 93's gate. Some may have been the hijackers themselves. But at the time, 9/11 was still just a normal day. I went on my way to baggage claim to wait for the crew bus that would take me to the employee parking lot.
Had I chosen instead to go to our in-flight office rather than directly to the bus stop, I would likely have run into the flight attendants working Flight 93, including my long-time friends and coworkers Lorraine Bay and Wanda Green. The three of us had recently attended a small birthday luncheon, in honor of another flight attendant, just a few weeks prior. Lorraine and I sat next to each other at the luncheon and eagerly chatted away, catching up on the latest news of family and mutual friends. The day was so enjoyable that someone decided we should do this more often. Kathy Denker agreed to act as hostess and the plan was for a beach picnic near her home. An appointment book was passed around the room, the group of about 15 of us, decided to meet again on Thursday, September 13th. Wanda and I just happened to leave the restaurant together and, as we walked to our cars, we discussed what we would wear to the next social gathering. We both had a good laugh when we concluded shorts, as opposed to swimsuits, would be more appropriate as neither of us was 21 anymore. We joked about how we would soon have to maneuver our walkers down the aisle at work and still maintain our professional image. I did not know then that that would be the last time I would ever see Lorraine or Wanda again. No one could have ever predicted what fate lie ahead in the next few weeks and the devasting consequences to come.

NMAH Story: Life Changed

The events of September 11th had a profound effect on me personally and professionally. My fellow flight attendants I consider to be my friends and extended family. My passengers were always special and a source from which I could always learn something new.
Flight attendants share a unique bond. As crews, we are forced by the nature of the job, to spend days at a time together and depend on each other to accomplish our common goal. We must work in close proximity of one another; wait countless hours around airports; share a jump seat for extended intervals waiting for takeoffs and landings or meet for dinner on layovers so one does not have to dine alone. This environment provides the perfect opportunity to get to know someone on a more personal level and helps to cultivate those bonds that can last a lifetime.
I also enjoyed conversing with passengers, once having been playfully scorned by my flying partner for chatting too much with passengers while leaving her to do all the work. My goal was to treat each passenger as an individual while making them feel welcome and always striving to ensure they had an enjoyable flight. The stories they told of their jobs or vacation destinations or reasons for travel were sometimes fascinating and came from people from all walks of life and from all over the world. Most were ordinary people, who I consider to be just like me, with lives similar to my own. Conversing with them helped to pass the time for both of us on long, uneventful flights.
Never did I realize that 9/11 was also the beginning of the end of my career with United. Within a few months after the attacks, I was placed on permanent, medical disability. Having struggled with a long-time, chronic illness, the stress following 9/11 may have been the contributing factor that allowed the disease to win the battle. It is not how I envisioned my proud tenure with United would end.
Nor could I ever have imagined that three years after 9/11 my husband would be calling the Al Sadeer Hotel in downtown Baghdad, Iraq, home. He retired as Chief of Police in our small hometown after 34 years of service. Today, he is working with the Coalition Provisional Authority training a new Iraqi police force. His hope is to possibly contribute to making this world a safer and better place.

NMAH Story: Remembered

The most important thing to remember about September 11th is the lives of those lost. Their passing should not be in vain. We must always remember the magnitude of the events of that day and how many people it effected, both directly and indirectly. What it did to our nation immediately after the attacks and in the years to follow. How it almost crippled our economy and stole our inocence. Our reserve as a nation to come together to defeat evil.

NMAH Story: Flag

I have always flown the American flag in front of my home but now more proudly than ever.

Citation

“nmah6588.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed November 22, 2024, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/40824.