story1686.xml

story1686.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-03

My name is Dave Shultz, and my September 11 story occurred in some proximity to the Pentagon attack. I was working as a journalist in downtown Washington, D.C. We had a television set in our office, and I remember walking in and seeing dark smoke rolling out from what looked like a gash in the side of one of the towers. A colleague told me that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. My immediate thought was that the plane must've been a small private plane -- surely a larger craft would've been piloted by a professional, and much less likely to make such a mistake.

I went to my desk, and wrote an e-mail to a friend, to see if he'd gotten any information on it. Meanwhile, I tried to log onto the Washingtonpost.com website, which was, at that time, unavailable, probably due to the number of "hits" on the site.

As I was at my desk, I heard that another plane had hit, this time on the other tower. The first collision had seemed so unlikely that the second confirmed our suspicions that this couldn't be unlucky coincidence. At that time, word started circulating that there was actually a collection of airborne planes in a coordinated attack, with some headed for Washington.

My first thought was to call my wife -- we'd only been married a few months -- and tell her to get home. She worked in Rosslyn, a business community across the Potomac River from Washington, and I didn't want her to be near the city, particularly as she was working in the very tall USA Today building. When I reached her (cell phones weren't working), she told me that her building was being evacuated. She wanted to meet me nearby, but I told her that I'd see her at home. I didn't know what the Washington Metro system would be like, but I guessed that it wouldn't be running (I didn't drive into work). I'd board it, and try to get as close to home as possible -- then I'd figure out what to do to get the rest of the way home.

About this time, we heard that the Pentagon had been hit; this sealed it for us, and we all started talking about leaving. Our building was on 17th and K street, and it was showing on the t.v. screen as local newscasters set up in the city -- the feeling was that the White House or Congress might also be targets. As we're not very far from either site, I said my goodbyes and got on the Farragut North station, blue line, headed south across the river and into Alexandria, where we had an apartment in a high rise.

The metro was crowded, but orderly -- people were unusually solicitous and polite. We didn't stop at the Pentagon stop, zoomed by it. I got off at Pentagon City, a large mall just south of the Pentagon.

The mall was completely deserted. Walking through it, I felt like a character from "War of the Worlds," as though I were the only person left in the area. I walked out of the mall, into the empty parking lot, and smelled the smoke. Looking toward the Pentagon, I could see the cloud rising over the top of the I-395 overpass. A deputized somebody told me I couldn't linger there, that I had to get out of that area for security reasons.

I called my wife, Sherry, who picked me up (we live about 10 minutes from the Pentagon). When we got home, it was about 11:15 a.m. I took off my shirt, got a drink, and walked out to the balcony. We live on the 16th floor of a building that overlooks the city. I could clearly see the smoke from the Pentagon; the Capitol dome was intact, and the Washington Monument and National Cathedral were visible (it was a gorgeous day). I don't recall if National Airport had stopped flights by that point, but in the weeks and months to come, that airport would be closed. We'd grown accustomed to sitting on the balcony and watching the flights queue up over the city -- no more. In addition, there was a notable blackness on that part of the Potomac river, as all the airport lights to which we'd become accusomed were now out. A flight of two fighter jets went over the city, something I'd not seen before. I remember thinking that Washington D.C. hadn't had smoke over it from aggressive attack since the War of 1812. It was a very odd, disturbing moment.

The Pentagon smoked for several days afterward, and we could smell it acutely from the balcony. For several nights after the attack, other residents in the building pulled fire alarms, thinking the smoke they smelled came from our building. This may sound like an unusual concern, but being as our building is one of the few tall ones in the area south of the city, my concern was that a repeat attack may pick it to hit if for some reason they were unable to make it to the city. For weeks after the attack, I passed Humvees, APC vehicles and armed soldiers when going into work.

I didn't know anyone killed in the attack, though a bar in Old Town Alexandria had a picture of a naval officer who died taped in the window for months afterward.