story6064.xml

story6064.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-12

I remember this day a year ago, as I imagine most of you do as well. I remember sitting here in the office, arriving early as I am inclined to do, listening to the morning complaints and gossip floating around our open work area while anxiously waiting for the coffee to finally finish dripping. There was a little giggle at something or other someone said that immediately piqued my interest. I remember asking my coworker to repeat it ? a plane ran into the World Trade Center? When? This morning? Are you kidding? It seemed like a joke to me at the time.

Then our receptionist walked in?she wasn?t inclined to come in early to participate in the morning frivolity?and joined right in, ?Yeah, there was another plane, too!? I remember this all vividly because right then, my life changed forever. There were no more smiles. In an instant everyone scrambled to the nearest radio to find out what was happening. I remember thinking, ?This can?t possibly be real, can it??

The following few hours were rife with an ever increasing dose of horror: A plane crashed in Pennsylvania, The Pentagon was hit, The World Trade Center?s Twin Towers Collapsed, Thousands of People Dead, People Leaping From Eighty Stories Up to Their Deaths! It refused to stop coming. The voices on the radio were as confused as I was by the rapidly unfolding events of the morning. I remember that suddenly, a television set appeared in our work area and someone fiddling with a set of rabbit ears and then those terrifying images began to appear before us. I can?t remember breathing after the first time I witnessed the image of a fully fueled airliner disappearing into the side of one of the Twin Towers. And, sadly, I still refused to believe it.

In the days and weeks that followed it just didn?t seem to get any better. Everyone I met, everyone I talked to had a singular focus?September eleventh. Suddenly, every one of us was the same. It no longer seemed to matter that we all still had to go to work everyday and earn a living or that our kids were driving us crazy or that our parents were overbearing or that our car didn?t work.

I remember a few conversations that still haunt me to this day. I?m sure we all have them. Someone?s brother was at the Pentagon. Another?s uncle was at the World Trade Center. But, most of all I remember the collective fear invading us all. How could this have happened? And, will it happen again? What about the power plant? Or, the LNG terminal sitting invitingly out in the bay beckoning another attack?

I?m not sure when those feelings began to subside or even how I let them begin to dissipate. I do know, however, that certain things will never be the same. I remember looking up at a passing airliner and thinking, I wonder where they?re going? Now I see one and stare after it hoping it will land safely where it is supposed to go. I remember that when I heard the word ?cap? I thought of a baseball hat. Now I think of military jets flying over our heads protecting our skies.

I see now that most of us have moved on after a year. The morning gossip and complaints and jokes are back in the office. The coffee pot is back to being more important in the morning than the phone or the filing or the work. I notice most of us are back to worrying about the economy, our bosses, our kids and parents more so than events we cannot possibly control. But, then here we are on September eleventh?three hundred sixty five days away from the worst day any of us can remember and I wonder ? have we really moved on? I?m not sure we have. I will never look at travel in the same way as I did, three hundred sixty six days ago. I don?t think I?ll be able to look at tall building anymore without considering whether or not it might be a target. I have driven past the power plant on a number of occasions and remember each time, breathing a sigh of relief when I?m safely away. It is an unwelcome feeling I just can?t seem to shake.

That is really what September eleventh has done to us all. In those few short hours when the world of terror reined over us one year ago today, we were made to carry a burden that may never go away. I cannot pretend to know whether that which we all carry will fade completely. Just as I am sure everyone who lived through December seventh, nineteen forty-one could not have possibly imagined their feelings of that morning ever leaving them. I may have smiled my last smile on this day. I just don?t know.