I just wanted to write down what my September 11th was like 10 years ago...
I had just moved to DC. It was a quiet morning, Patrick was out of town for work. He had just gotten staffed on a project in Long Island, NY a few weeks earlier, just after I decided to move up to the DC area.
I was unpacking boxes and the phone rang. I was not in a hurry to answer the phone, because I had only lived in the house with Patrick for 3 days, so surely no one was calling for me. After the phone rang and rang and rang, I figured something was important so I picked it up.
My mom sounded weird. "Where does Patrick work?" she asked.
"New York" I said.
"Where in New York?" she asked.
"Long Island" I replied.
"Turn on the TV"
"What channel?"
"The news - any news."
I saw the WTC towers billowing with smoke. Mom told me that planes had crashed into the buildings. I felt my heart beating and could hear it in my ears.
Was Patrick there? Had he taken a breakfast meeting downtown? What was going on? Were we under attack? Who would DO such a thing? I felt the ground tremble and my heart raced.
"MOM!! I just felt something! I think something happened here! Let me go check!! I need to call Patrick!"
That was Flight 77 crashing into the Pentagon. We lived in Old Town Alexandria at the time, and were minutes from the Pentagon as well as the airport.
God said to me then, audibly, slowly, as if to calm me, "Be Still, and Know that I Am God. Be Still and Know that I Am God. Be Still and Know that I Am God. Be Still and Know that I Am God. Be Still and Know that I Am God." It was the second time in my life He had spoken to me directly.
The next few hours were a blur. I remember firetrucks, ambulances, sirens racing down our street - they just kept coming and coming. I remember crying while watching the towers fall and shouting "RUN!!!" to those on TV who were filming and reporting on the incident. I remember seeing people jump from the towers and feeling sick to my stomach that the situation they were in was so dire they jumped from a 110 story building. And I remember trying hopelessly to get in touch with Patrick.
I finally got an email from him around 3:30pm, saying he was fine, but devastated. He would try to rent a car and drive home as soon as he could. I felt so completely alone.
I stayed glued to the TV for days, but the outside became eerily quiet. No planes overhead, no one headed to work. No traffic. I volunteered at a donation site organizing water and food that had been donated by people from all over the area. I went to the church across the street for a prayer vigil, but not being Catholic, I couldn't participate well and felt even more alone. I was overjoyed to see Patrick when he finally made it home.
I felt a huge swell of pride and sadness for the firefighters, the police, the good samaritans, the stories of heroes we all saw on TV that day and the weeks following, the "Let's Roll" that Todd Beamer shouted before staving off another devastating crash. There were so many stories. And the pictures of the people in NYC holding photos of their loved ones on TV to see if anyone had seen them. So much devastation it was so hard to not spend days and days just crying.
I didn't know anyone personally who died in the attacks on September 11th. But I was almost on one of those planes. A few weeks before, I was booking my flight to see my sister Alicia in California. I was going to go on Tuesday. I was all ready to book my seat on Flight 77 from Dulles to LAX, but at the last minute found a flight to Orange County instead. But it was on Wednesday. I had a hard time deciding if I wanted to cut my stay a day shorter with my sister just to save an hour or two of driving, but I ultimately decided to take the later flight. After all, it was only $30 more... With that $30 I feel I inadvertently saved my life.
So, that's my September 11th, 2001. Even just viewed from the TV screen, it impacted us all as if we were standing there with the people in the Financial District of NYC, with those at the Pentagon, and those on the phone lines with their loved ones on Flight 93. I will never forget how I felt that day and the days afterward, and though I don't want to watch it all over again on TV this weekend, I do want to remember how it made me feel.
I hope I never feel that helpless and insignificant ever again.