It was 6:15 am in the morning when our phone rang. I remember, I was annoyed because it was so early and I didn't want the baby to wake up. My husband rolled over and checked the caller ID, it was his folks from the East Coast.
He answered and immediately sat up. "What? What?"
He clicked the speaker button on the phone.
My in-laws were sobbing. "We're under attack! The World Trade Center has just been bombed!"
"Oh my God!" I bellowed.
We padded down the hall to our only T.V. set and flicked it on. We watched in terror when the second plane crashed into the remaining World Trade Tower.
I don't remember if we even ate that day, or got dressed for that matter. At one point, the baby woke and I brought her into the living room so I could watch. We just stood, and watched.
We all cried as the towers fell.
It was like watching freedom itself crumble and burn with all those poor lost souls in between the twisted metal, and the blankets of paper snowing across the city.
I know my experience is small compared to those who were actually there. For them, my heart weeps.
I wish the world was further along in our quest for peace so that a day like that is never repeated.
Though I choose not to dwell in fear, I shall never forget. And neither should you.
He answered and immediately sat up. "What? What?"
He clicked the speaker button on the phone.
My in-laws were sobbing. "We're under attack! The World Trade Center has just been bombed!"
"Oh my God!" I bellowed.
We padded down the hall to our only T.V. set and flicked it on. We watched in terror when the second plane crashed into the remaining World Trade Tower.
I don't remember if we even ate that day, or got dressed for that matter. At one point, the baby woke and I brought her into the living room so I could watch. We just stood, and watched.
We all cried as the towers fell.
It was like watching freedom itself crumble and burn with all those poor lost souls in between the twisted metal, and the blankets of paper snowing across the city.
I know my experience is small compared to those who were actually there. For them, my heart weeps.
I wish the world was further along in our quest for peace so that a day like that is never repeated.
Though I choose not to dwell in fear, I shall never forget. And neither should you.
I had my Jump-Seat pass for Flight 77 out of IAD. But was released from work, was an FO for Atlantic Coast Airlines, so I was ably to commute home to LAX the night before.
ReplyDeleteWas woken up to my friend calling and asking where I was.
Turns out I spoke with Mohamed Atta {the lead high-jacker) about 8 months before that terrible day, when I was flight instructing out of Orange County CA.
On another occasion, when Jump-Seating home, turns out that the terrorist were doing dry-runs on the flight I was on from IAD to LAX.
Still can't believe how close I came to be on that flight, and wish I had the for-thought to do something about it. Guilt...
Aviation is a small community....