story905.xml

story905.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-07-18

I was running late that morning and was getting ready to leave for my job as a substitute teacher at a middle school. The phone rang about 6:15 a.m. Hawaii time (12:15 NYC time). My husband's co-worker frantically tried to tell me what had happened. She was worried for us as we both have family outside of NYC. Finally, she said, "Just turn on the TV." I did, and can only describe what I felt at first as disbelief. To see the whole scenario--two planes crashing, then the towers collapsing one after the other, then the Pentagon, and the plane in Shanksville in a matter of moments was too much to hold in my mind. I was too numb even to cry. That would come later.

I went to my job because I didn't know what else to do. The principal gave us permission to have the TVs on all day. I honestly don't remember teaching any curriculum that day. We watched TV and talked and tried to understand what had happened. Back at home I turned on CNN, and it seems like all I did for days was sit in front of the TV and watch and cry. I know I went to work at least some of the days, coached soccer, and cared for my family, but that is a blur. What I remember is the images from TV--the planes hitting the buildings, the collapses, the ash-covered people, the families of the victims holding up pictures of their missing loved ones, begging for help, desperate for any information, the memorials and vigils that sprang up everywhere, the prayer services, the heroes--the fire fighters, police, EMTs and all the volunteers. I felt grief, great sadness, anger, a reborn patriotism I'd forgotten I had, and a great pride and gratitude for all the heroes that emerged that day and after.

I felt somewhat alone out here in Hawaii. As someone who lived most of her life just outside NYC, I think I felt it more deeply than lots of people here. I know I felt it DIFFERENTLY. The reporters and anchors on TV became my friends and connection to NYC . I was desperate for a way to help, but I was so far away. I gave money and blood and prayers, but it wasn't enough. I looked into joining the military, but I was too old. I had to settle for symbols--flying my flag, and renewing my comittment to teach my children and those I taught in school about our country and how fortunate they are to be Americans.

Months later I have been to the WTC site and to the Pentagon. Being there was important to me. I needed to pay my respects in person at last. There is a feeling there at the WTC site and at the memorial by St. Pauls and the platform. First is the sadness of the enormity of the loss, but there is hope there as well. So many people from all over the world have come to share their grief, pay their respects, and in many cases, leave an offering and add their voice to the memorial wall. I found some comfort there even amid the sadness.

Even today I hurt deeply. I sometimes still see video in my head. I keep a collection of books, magazines, articles, photos, lapel pins, and transcripts of the events of September 11 and the aftermath. Some think I am obsessive, and they may be right, but it is my tribute, part of my promise to Never Forget.