story1781.xml
Title
story1781.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-09-05
911DA Story: Story
My husband and I work for the federal government in Wshington. My sister called me, hysterical, to ask if we were okay, because she'd heard that the Old Executive Office Building had been hit by one of the planes. This was the first I'd heard of any of this.
From this point on, we were glued to radios and the couple portable TVs that were in the office. We couldn't believe what was happening.
Then, the rumors began flying, on radio and on TV. The White House had been hit; no, it hadn't. The Capitol had been hit; no, it hadn't. There were more planes on the way -- maybe yes, maybe no. Each time, the fear in our office (located between the White House and the Capitol) ratcheted up another notch.
We were released around noon. I told my husband to walk over to my office, and we'd start trying to make our way home together. On the lower floors of my building are offices of the Secret Service. Suddenly, these guys I had joked with in the elevator were outside parolling the sidewalks, with flak jackets on. The guards in the lobby were a comforting presence.
Hubby arrived, and we started trying to get home. We catch the VRE commuter train in and out, so we had to make it to the trains, which were not being allowed into the city over the bridge. We got word that the trains could make it as far as Alexandria, and if we could get there, we could get home.
We managed to make it onto the Metro. Never in my life have I been on a train that was so silent. There were armed guards on it, and everyone had only one question -- "Any news?"
When we rode through the Pentagon Metro station, it felt as though the entire train was holding its breath.
We made it to Alexandria, and caught a train home. That night, we went out to a local restaurant, and solemnly raised a glass of wine. We were alive, and we were grateful.
From this point on, we were glued to radios and the couple portable TVs that were in the office. We couldn't believe what was happening.
Then, the rumors began flying, on radio and on TV. The White House had been hit; no, it hadn't. The Capitol had been hit; no, it hadn't. There were more planes on the way -- maybe yes, maybe no. Each time, the fear in our office (located between the White House and the Capitol) ratcheted up another notch.
We were released around noon. I told my husband to walk over to my office, and we'd start trying to make our way home together. On the lower floors of my building are offices of the Secret Service. Suddenly, these guys I had joked with in the elevator were outside parolling the sidewalks, with flak jackets on. The guards in the lobby were a comforting presence.
Hubby arrived, and we started trying to get home. We catch the VRE commuter train in and out, so we had to make it to the trains, which were not being allowed into the city over the bridge. We got word that the trains could make it as far as Alexandria, and if we could get there, we could get home.
We managed to make it onto the Metro. Never in my life have I been on a train that was so silent. There were armed guards on it, and everyone had only one question -- "Any news?"
When we rode through the Pentagon Metro station, it felt as though the entire train was holding its breath.
We made it to Alexandria, and caught a train home. That night, we went out to a local restaurant, and solemnly raised a glass of wine. We were alive, and we were grateful.
Collection
Citation
“story1781.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed December 18, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/9093.