West of Ground Zero - My Account Of 9-11

It’s hard to believe that it’s been almost a quarter-century since our generation had their own version of Pearl Harbor.  But it’s true - 9/11 occurred almost 25 years ago.  It was a seminal event that every American will remember as long as they walk this earth.  It was bigger than the Challenger, and maybe even the assassination of John Kennedy. 

This is my account of what happened. I’ve been meaning to write it for some time because I want my grandchildren to know the personal stories that aren’t in history books.  And I’m only describing the events of my day because, they are etched in my mind forever. 

On September 11, 2001 I was in Chicago, attending a huge international trade show.  Since it didn’t open until 10 o’clock, I took an early walk through the park that flanks Lake Michigan. A couple of miles later,  I went back to my room and turned on the Today Show - Tom Brokaw and Katie Couric had been my wake up companions for years.  But instead of two hosts yakking, there was a shot of the World Trade Center Towers, one of which was spewing black smoke from its midsection. The reporters weren’t sure what happened; however, there was some conjecture that a small plane had hit the building - maybe the pilot of a corporate jet had a heart attack. 

I went to the bathroom, showered and returned to the television. Immediately, I froze in horror in front of the screen. The second tower had been hit - now a mirror image of the first.  Furthermore, we knew the cause, because there was a video of a passenger jet slamming into the building. 

 

The broadcasters began using the term terrorism, and mentioned someone named Osama bin Laden. Turning away from the TV, I went to my hotel window, and looked for the Sears Tower.  It was only a block away.  I shuddered, because like everyone else in downtown Chicago, I thought it may be on the terrorist’s list. 

By the time I dressed and got to the lobby, televisions were blaring.  The mood was somber, subdued, and scared. Everyone realized that America had been attacked on its own soil. Well, everyone but one of my fellow employees, Mims. I met him at the first floor elevator.  

“What’s going on?”, he asked

“You mean you haven’t had the TV on?”  

He had not. So I filled him in on everything as he stared at a TV.  Finally, he turned to me and said quietly, “One of my customers and good friends has an office in the first tower. I hope he gets out.”

We walked out of the hotel and ducked in a nearby diner for breakfast.  A small black and white set was on the counter playing the news. Soon after ordering, someone pointed at the screen and said,”Look!” We gasped as the first tower collapsed.  Mims burst into tears. “I just watched my friend die!”, he wailed. Within a half hour the second skyscraper disintegrated into a cloud of dust and rubble. We were witnessing a mass murder take place right before our eyes. 

While we were in the diner, the FAA suspended all domestic flights.  And every airborne plane was instructed to immediately land at the nearest airport. Flights coming into the United States were directed to land Mexico or Canada. Now thousands of passengers were stranded. 

This created a mad scramble at every rental car desk in Chicago, causing some individuals to become quite creative. People began booking trains. Some were buying clunker cars. I even heard of one guy who negotiated a flat rate with a cab to drive him from Chicago to Dallas.

Our group decided the best idea was to split up: two of us headed to Hertz, while Mims and I headed to the convention center.  The huge pavilion was nearly deserted; the scant few that were in attendance  huddled around televisions.  It was there we learned more about the extent of the attack.  We knew that an airplane headed for the White House had been taken down. In addition, the Pentagon had been hit.   Could there be more?

By noon, the streets of Chicago, normally bustling with thousands of people, were deserted. No cars, almost no cabs. The scene of such a vibrant city laying silently before us like a wounded animal was one I’ll never forget. The only sounds we heard were fighter jets that continuously circled the downtown area. 

It took us days to get ground transportation.  We finally snagged  a U Haul truck - not our first choice, but it got us home. It was a quiet, pensive trip.  Listening to the news as we drove made it clear that 9/11 changed us.  It sickened us. It angered us. We felt vulnerable. Not since The War of 1812 had someone taken the fight to us in our country.  Innocents died. There were also buckets of questions about why and how this could happen in America. However, I also felt a wave of patriotism and unity I haven’t felt since.  And stories emerged about heroes, bravery, honor, and sacrifice. 

Six hundred miles later, we pulled in to my driveway.  As I took my luggage out, I couldn’t help but glance around my neighborhood. Everything looked the same -  but it wasn’t, and it never will be again.