Health & Fitness
Where were you when...?
The significance of September 11, 2011 for a West County mom.
If you are my generation, the question of "where were you when 9/11 happened" comes up often. For my parents' generation, it was "where were you when JFK was shot?" For this next generation, I can only hope it is something along the lines of "where were you when that meteor in the sky turned out to be a giant ice cream cone and we all ate chocolate chip ice cream for a month?"
9/11 holds a strong place in my life. My husband was in Manhattan that day. One month prior, he went to New York on business and I got to accompany him. All of his meetings were in the World Trade Center.
The morning of September 11, 2001, I was home with my 4 month old daughter and almost 3 year old son. We were having a normal morning of "Barney" and play-time when the phone rang. It was my father-in-law.
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"Have you talked to Andy?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied, "last night."
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"No! Have you talked to him today?" I wasn't used to my father-in-law being so serious about this...it was a little scary. "Aren't you watching the news," he asked.
"Larry, I have 2 small children...I'm watching 'Barney.'"
"TURN ON CNN!"
Just as I did, they were showing the second plane hitting the other tower. The rest of the morning was a whirlwind of emotions and trying not to freak out my children.
I called my husband's secretary, who was pretty sure he wasn't in meetings at the World Trade Center, but wasn't completely positive. I tried his cell phone, which wouldn't go through. I cried. I cursed, a lot, under my breath. I worried.
I got a number of phone calls that morning. I mostly remember hanging up on people because I didn't have answers for them, nor did I really want to hear people worry for me or with me. My mother called and asked what she could do. I believe my response was something along the lines of "bring him the *&^%$% home!" About 10 minutes later, she showed up at my house and took the kids to the basement to play. My mother was a rockstar that day (and every day for that matter).
I continued to watch the news, mostly the "Today Show," and didn't stop watching for a number of days. I don't remember shielding my children from the news, but was pretty sure they were young enough to not understand.
About 2 1/2 hours into my stressed-out ordeal, the phone rang. It was my husband. RELIEF! He had been in meetings in mid-town Manhattan and couldn't call because none of the phone lines were working. He finally found an old-style fax machine with a receiver on it and it had a dial tone. I cried when I heard his voice!
The rest of the day was a blur. I know that I had an IEP meeting with teachers from my son's pre-school. I don't remember what we discussed.
Two days later, after getting to Philadelphia and renting a car there, my husband arrived home, safe and sound. I hugged him and wouldn't let go. I knew how amazingly lucky I was.
Now, as I look at the footage and images and listen to the stories, I feel sick to my stomach. The sadness that emerged from that day is immeasurable. I know many people who were touched in one way or another by the devastation. I find that I can only watch or listen for a few minutes before the tears start to fall and the memories come screaming back into my head.
If anything, my experience taught me that I am truly lucky!
Now, if only we could have an ice cream filled meteor, my life would be perfect!