nmah5437.xml

nmah5437.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2003-02-14

My name is Jodi Cutler. I live in a small farming community surrounded by college towns in western Massachusetts. A mountain range separates my home from Westover Air Force Base. I am 38 years old and have a seven year old boy and a 4 month old son. I work for the state government overseeing the cleanup of hazardous waste sites. I was at work when I learned of the first plane hitting the world trade center. I was walking down the hallway and a co-worker was walking toward me. From the distance, I just knew something was wrong. As he got closer he said nothing and was about to pass me when I said Whats wrong? He wasnt crying or giving any outward sign of a problem, but when a tragedy like this occurs, I think that one must give off some sort of energy that others perceive on a less than visible level.

He told me what he knew and I proceeded to where others had gathered in front of a television. It wasnt clear at that time that the crash wasnt an accident. I then witnessed, like millions of others, the second plane crashing, and with it my feeling of safety. As I watched at work I saw a view of a bridge in New York near the WTC and it awoke a memory of seeing that bridge from my mother-in-laws apartment. I immediately left to go call her there was no answer. I called my husband and his brother to see if they had heard from her but they hadnt. It wasnt until after lunch that day, much to my relief, that we found out she had been exercising and swimming oblivious to chaos happening not far from her building. As the threat to government agencies was unknown, my building was evacuated and I went home.

I struggled with the idea of picking my son up from kindergarten, but left him there after calling and being assured the children knew nothing and parents would be in charge of how and how much to inform their children. I knew I wouldnt be able to watch or listen to the news with him home. At home, alone, I watched on television as news of the Pentagon attack occurred and the news that another plane was headed for the White House.

I kept expecting news of an attack on the west coast (a plot to bomb the LA airport had recently been foiled), but it never came. They stopped all air travel. The skies were quiet for days, with the exception of military planes. The sound of planes in the sky gave me pause for quite awhile.

In the days following 9/11, I struggled for a way to show my grief and solidarity with the people of our country. I placed a flag in my car, I called those I love and even attended a peace vigil. The songs I sang there stayed in my head for months and still give me comfort.

After a couple of days, I called my cousin who lives on the western end of Long Island, near New York City. He has three children in elementary school. I wanted to know how they had been affected and what he had shared with them, as I struggled with what information to give my kindergartener. His children could not have recess any more because of the smoke. Twenty-three kids from that school lost at least one parent. The view from his daughters classroom had been the World Trade Center and now it was gone. He did not have the luxury of insulating his children from the tragedy because they experienced directly. I felt and continue to feel grateful for not having lost anyone with whom I was close that day.

In the time since the attack I have improved my attitude toward life. I am now much better able to be happy and grateful for every day I have. I became pregnant and had a second child since September 11, 2001. It is a very different world in which I brought him than with my first.

Thank you for the opportunity to reflect on my experience.