story3380.xml
Title
story3380.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-09-11
911DA Story: Story
As I write this one-year to the day after the tragic incidents of September 11, 2001, all the pain and horror have returned. I was at home that Tuesday morning, getting ready to jump in the shower in order to be at a Bible study at church in just over an hour. The phone rang--it was my mother-in-law from upstate New York. We have a wonderful relationship, but rather than her normal warm greeting, I heard, "Where is your husband?" You see, my husband is a pilot for American Airlines, and he happens to fly the same jets (Boeing 757 and Boeing 767) that we lost that day. Unknowing of what had transpired approximately an hour before, I said, "He's right here. Why?" She told me to turn on the television.
My husband and I did, and we quickly ended our conversation with his mother. By this time both aircraft had hit the World Trade Center towers, but the second AA jet had not yet hit the Pentagon. We watched in horror as that story unfolded. After a time my husband attempted to find out the names of the crewmembers that had been lost. I called my mother to relate that Bob was safe at home, but to ask the whereabouts of my younger brother, who is a pilot for United Air Lines. I was pretty certain he wasn't on the first UAL flight to hit the WTC as I knew he flew a different type of aircraft than the one that had been reported to hit the WTC (a Boeing 767), but I was unsure of his whereabouts as the story in Pennsylvania unfolded. After several calls on my mother's part to my brother's home in California, we found out that he was overseas on a layover in Hong Kong. My family was safe, but the horror of all the lives that were lost, and the pain of it happening to our airlines families intensified as the day wore on.
I skipped my Bible study, as I just wasn't able to get myself together. I had an appointment that morning with my hairdresser, but called her to cancel it. She understood, and immediately asked if my husband was okay. You see, we live less than five miles from Dallas-Ft. Worth airport, and our community is made up of many, many airline families. When my husband found out that I had cancelled my hair color appointment, he told me to go anyway, as he thought it wasn't good for me to sit around in my nightgown all day, crying over the television coverage. He was right, so I dressed, got in the car and drove in to town, about 8 miles. I remember thinking how surreal everything was, and how shell-shocked people looked. In fact, I even witnessed a minor accident on the way to the hairdresser's!
The TVs were on at the hairdresser's, so we were kept updated on what was happening. In the couple of hours I was there, my hairdresser and friend ministered to me. It's hard to describe how a visit to your hairdresser could be calming and healing, but it was. She is a wonderful Christian lady, and she basically took care of me for a couple of hours.
After I left there, my husband and I met at our church with one of our pastors who was concerned with the whereabouts of several of our members who are airline employees. She had been making phone calls all morning, trying to track down all church members who might have been on any of those flights. Fortunately, all were safe, as the crews that American Airlines lost were from Boston and New York, not DFW.
As the day went on, the surreal feelings continued. My three children (ages 13, 11 and 10) came home from school. The two older children had learned about the attack from their teachers, and even watched some of the television news coverage, but my youngest child, a daughter, had not been told at her school. Of course, all activities that afternoon and evening were cancelled. I remember going to the store to buy something to make quickly for dinner as our plans had changed for that evening, and still feeling shell shocked as I stood in the checkout line. It seemed like everything, and everybody, was quiet, or muted. Of course, the jet traffic had ended before noon that day, and not hearing a jet or commuter plane overhead where we live is highly unusual. I don?t ever remember hearing such quiet as we experienced that day.
The rest of the week was a blur of tears, heartache, and prayer. We held a prayer service at church Wednesday night, where I learned that a friend of mine (who works for American Airlines as a dispatcher and who?s wife is a Flight Attendant) was concerned over his best friend and college roommate, a firefighter in New York City. He would learn later that this man had died in the rescue attempt.
Of course, the air travel industry was shut down for several days nation-wide. My husband was to take out a trip the following day, but that was cancelled. He strongly felt that he needed to get back in to the cockpit, and show the public that he wasn?t afraid to fly, so he volunteered to fly any trip, anywhere, as soon as the airline needed him. He was selected to fly on one of the first trips out of Dallas-Ft. Worth. I was concerned, of course, but he called me from every stop he made. After three or four more trips, I settled down and tried not to show him that I was afraid for him, but I will never feel as I did before September 11th.
The days and weeks after September 11th seemed to drag on and on. I remember thinking, when will the grief end? On November 12th, a Monday, my husband and I were at our daughter?s elementary school participating in a Veteran?s Day celebration (we are both former Air Force Officers and Reservists) in our Air Force uniforms, when we learned from other parents that another American Airlines jet had gone down in Queens, NY. I broke down, and ran from the area so the children wouldn?t see me cry, thinking it was happening all over again. As we now know, this was not a terrorist attack, but a mechanical or structural problem, but it brought back all the horror and pain of two months earlier.
As an end to my personal story, we chose to travel to New York City in March over our children?s spring break. It just so happened that we were there the evening of March 11th, the six-month anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, and we watched the twin beams of light being turned on. We also visited the viewing platform, and watched as several sets of remains were removed the following day. It helped me, personally, to be at the site, and to pray for the victims there where it happened.
To all who lost a loved one or friend on September 11th, my heart goes out to you. I cannot fathom your grief, even as I deal with mine, and I did not have a family member or friend who perished. I pray that America will become stronger, that we will never forget those who died, and that we will continue to be the land of the free and the home of the brave. To do otherwise, would mean all those people died in vain. God Bless You all, and God Bless America.
My husband and I did, and we quickly ended our conversation with his mother. By this time both aircraft had hit the World Trade Center towers, but the second AA jet had not yet hit the Pentagon. We watched in horror as that story unfolded. After a time my husband attempted to find out the names of the crewmembers that had been lost. I called my mother to relate that Bob was safe at home, but to ask the whereabouts of my younger brother, who is a pilot for United Air Lines. I was pretty certain he wasn't on the first UAL flight to hit the WTC as I knew he flew a different type of aircraft than the one that had been reported to hit the WTC (a Boeing 767), but I was unsure of his whereabouts as the story in Pennsylvania unfolded. After several calls on my mother's part to my brother's home in California, we found out that he was overseas on a layover in Hong Kong. My family was safe, but the horror of all the lives that were lost, and the pain of it happening to our airlines families intensified as the day wore on.
I skipped my Bible study, as I just wasn't able to get myself together. I had an appointment that morning with my hairdresser, but called her to cancel it. She understood, and immediately asked if my husband was okay. You see, we live less than five miles from Dallas-Ft. Worth airport, and our community is made up of many, many airline families. When my husband found out that I had cancelled my hair color appointment, he told me to go anyway, as he thought it wasn't good for me to sit around in my nightgown all day, crying over the television coverage. He was right, so I dressed, got in the car and drove in to town, about 8 miles. I remember thinking how surreal everything was, and how shell-shocked people looked. In fact, I even witnessed a minor accident on the way to the hairdresser's!
The TVs were on at the hairdresser's, so we were kept updated on what was happening. In the couple of hours I was there, my hairdresser and friend ministered to me. It's hard to describe how a visit to your hairdresser could be calming and healing, but it was. She is a wonderful Christian lady, and she basically took care of me for a couple of hours.
After I left there, my husband and I met at our church with one of our pastors who was concerned with the whereabouts of several of our members who are airline employees. She had been making phone calls all morning, trying to track down all church members who might have been on any of those flights. Fortunately, all were safe, as the crews that American Airlines lost were from Boston and New York, not DFW.
As the day went on, the surreal feelings continued. My three children (ages 13, 11 and 10) came home from school. The two older children had learned about the attack from their teachers, and even watched some of the television news coverage, but my youngest child, a daughter, had not been told at her school. Of course, all activities that afternoon and evening were cancelled. I remember going to the store to buy something to make quickly for dinner as our plans had changed for that evening, and still feeling shell shocked as I stood in the checkout line. It seemed like everything, and everybody, was quiet, or muted. Of course, the jet traffic had ended before noon that day, and not hearing a jet or commuter plane overhead where we live is highly unusual. I don?t ever remember hearing such quiet as we experienced that day.
The rest of the week was a blur of tears, heartache, and prayer. We held a prayer service at church Wednesday night, where I learned that a friend of mine (who works for American Airlines as a dispatcher and who?s wife is a Flight Attendant) was concerned over his best friend and college roommate, a firefighter in New York City. He would learn later that this man had died in the rescue attempt.
Of course, the air travel industry was shut down for several days nation-wide. My husband was to take out a trip the following day, but that was cancelled. He strongly felt that he needed to get back in to the cockpit, and show the public that he wasn?t afraid to fly, so he volunteered to fly any trip, anywhere, as soon as the airline needed him. He was selected to fly on one of the first trips out of Dallas-Ft. Worth. I was concerned, of course, but he called me from every stop he made. After three or four more trips, I settled down and tried not to show him that I was afraid for him, but I will never feel as I did before September 11th.
The days and weeks after September 11th seemed to drag on and on. I remember thinking, when will the grief end? On November 12th, a Monday, my husband and I were at our daughter?s elementary school participating in a Veteran?s Day celebration (we are both former Air Force Officers and Reservists) in our Air Force uniforms, when we learned from other parents that another American Airlines jet had gone down in Queens, NY. I broke down, and ran from the area so the children wouldn?t see me cry, thinking it was happening all over again. As we now know, this was not a terrorist attack, but a mechanical or structural problem, but it brought back all the horror and pain of two months earlier.
As an end to my personal story, we chose to travel to New York City in March over our children?s spring break. It just so happened that we were there the evening of March 11th, the six-month anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, and we watched the twin beams of light being turned on. We also visited the viewing platform, and watched as several sets of remains were removed the following day. It helped me, personally, to be at the site, and to pray for the victims there where it happened.
To all who lost a loved one or friend on September 11th, my heart goes out to you. I cannot fathom your grief, even as I deal with mine, and I did not have a family member or friend who perished. I pray that America will become stronger, that we will never forget those who died, and that we will continue to be the land of the free and the home of the brave. To do otherwise, would mean all those people died in vain. God Bless You all, and God Bless America.
Collection
Citation
“story3380.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed December 26, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/5265.