story9378.xml
Title
story9378.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2003-07-19
911DA Story: Story
We were on our "annual" vacation to Myrtle Beach, SC, from our home in Central Ohio. We'd arrived in MB Sunday, September 9th; Tuesday, September 11, 2001 began as all our other vacation mornings: we woke, ate breakfast and prepared to head down to the beach. We typically don't turn the television or radio on in the morning -- our vacations "shut out" the outside world.
But that morning, I grabbed our little itty bitty "mini boom box" to take to the beach, thinking we'd listen to the radio, oldies, talk radio, whatever.
On the way down, two women in the elevator were talking, "This means war," and we had no idea what they were talking about.
After setting up the beach blanket, etc., my husband started tossing the baseball to our boys, then ages 6 and 4. I sat on the beach blanket, enjoying the sun, and turned on the radio.
As I sat, the story of what was happening in New York and Washington unfolded before my mind via a little 2" speaker, sitting on a blanket on the soft, sun-warmed sand of Myrtle Beach, miles and miles south of all the horror. I watched my family, cheerfully tossing a baseball back and forth, heard the gulls above, the crash of the ocean waves mixed with the sounds of awe, horror, sheer terror and screams coming out of the radio.
Needless to say, we spent a lot more time that vacation watching the news, shooing the boys to the other room to watch Nickelodeon, than we ever would have.
I tried hard as ever not to cry that week. I succeeded until after we'd returned from our "vacation". I feel my crying and watching news had an effect on our 4-year-old, who, after that exhibited some interesting personality quirks, which were new to him.
I ached, and still do, for all those in NY and Washington, all the victims and their families. I revisit the web sites, the video sites, often. I will never forget what happened that day.
But that morning, I grabbed our little itty bitty "mini boom box" to take to the beach, thinking we'd listen to the radio, oldies, talk radio, whatever.
On the way down, two women in the elevator were talking, "This means war," and we had no idea what they were talking about.
After setting up the beach blanket, etc., my husband started tossing the baseball to our boys, then ages 6 and 4. I sat on the beach blanket, enjoying the sun, and turned on the radio.
As I sat, the story of what was happening in New York and Washington unfolded before my mind via a little 2" speaker, sitting on a blanket on the soft, sun-warmed sand of Myrtle Beach, miles and miles south of all the horror. I watched my family, cheerfully tossing a baseball back and forth, heard the gulls above, the crash of the ocean waves mixed with the sounds of awe, horror, sheer terror and screams coming out of the radio.
Needless to say, we spent a lot more time that vacation watching the news, shooing the boys to the other room to watch Nickelodeon, than we ever would have.
I tried hard as ever not to cry that week. I succeeded until after we'd returned from our "vacation". I feel my crying and watching news had an effect on our 4-year-old, who, after that exhibited some interesting personality quirks, which were new to him.
I ached, and still do, for all those in NY and Washington, all the victims and their families. I revisit the web sites, the video sites, often. I will never forget what happened that day.
Collection
Citation
“story9378.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed April 16, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/8792.