Ten years later, I don’t need to remember. I never forgot in the first place.
Early Tuesday, I call in sick. The last thing I want is to wrangle thirty strange kids when my throat is this sore.
Wake up.
Make coffee.
Turn on news.
There’s only one channel.
An accident?
How could this happen?
Aren’t there—
No.
No no no no no no no.
Not an accident.
No.
Too many voices. I’m sitting on the ground, coffee forgotten. I missed the couch and couldn’t seem to find my way up.
I’ll sit on the floor of the living room for the next six hours.
The dogs come to curl around me, only puppies, but they’re not playing that morning.
The phone is on the coffee table.
He picks up. “Good morning. How you feeling?”
“Turn on the T.V.”
“I’m really busy right now. Can you just tell me what’s going on?”
“I … I really can’t. Just—”
“I need to go, someone just walked—”
“Turn on the fucking television!”
“Are you crying?”
There is a murmur of voices in the background. I hear my father-in-law.
“Oh … shit. Oh, my God.” It is a prayer.
There’s nothing to say, but we sit on the phone together for another half an hour. I make him promise not to go to L.A. that day. I make him promise not to send any trucks to the port.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know.”
“How could this happen?”
“I don’t know.”
“Should we go donate blood or something? I feel like we have to do something.”
There’s a long silence on his end of the phone.
“I can see people jumping.”
And there is nothing to say.
My mom calls me when the plane hits Washington.
“They hit the Pentagon!”
“I just saw.”
“How could they hit the Pentagon?”
“I don’t know, Mom.”
“What is happening? It’s … the Pentagon.”
Something invincible has been vanquished. You’re not supposed to be able to attack the Pentagon. It’s our nation’s fortress. Our castle.
And the castle walls were breached.
“Do you have school friends in New York?”
“No … no one I keep in touch with.” There are a few, but none that I know how to contact.
“How about Washington?”
Yes, I think. I know some people in Washington.
Capitol Hill? Could they attack there?
Of course they could.
“I’m sure everyone’s fine, Mom. I’ll hear if they’re not. I don’t think they need me clogging up the phone lines on the East Coast.”
“Don’t go into L.A.”
“I won’t.”
“What is happening?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are they going to attack the West Coast?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t go into L.A.”
“I won’t.”
“Your cousin’s in Toronto.”
“How?”
“He was coming back from Europe. They landed in Toronto.”
“How is he going to get home?”
“I don’t know.”
By the time I see the first tower collapse, I’m lying on the floor, exhausted from crying, the dogs curled against me. But I can’t look away. People on the television wander the streets like ghosts. I hear something in the background about how many firefighters were lost, but there’s no way to guess how many people were in the towers.
Three thousand?
Ten?
I try to remember how many people live in the town where I grew up.
Two to five thousand dead in the towers.
They’re guessing.
It’s all a guess, because no one knows anything.
We thought we did. We thought we knew what an attack was. We thought we knew what a high jacker was. We thought we had procedures. We thought terrorism didn’t happen here. We thought no one could be evil enough to do something like this. We thought we had defenses. We thought we were safe.
“I don’t know.”
We didn’t know anything.
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Thank you for your post.
I lost “my brother” in tower two. He was just one of those foster kids who passed thru our house while we were stationed overseas when my dad was in the military. He was different, we had the same birthday..I was 5 minutes earlier. Which made me older and therefore wiser
We told people we were twins..he was tall.. I am short..he’s blonde ..me brunette…his eyes blue mine brown … his skin light mine dark..but don’t try to tell us we were not related! .Over time he stopped being my foster brother and simply became my brother. He never bonded with the rest of the family as he did with me. That was ok, Cause you only have one twin right???? We kept in touch even after the system moved him. We arranged to go to the same college. We laffed and We cried and lived like we had forever back then. We saw our first stones concert together….Traveled the world sharing the wonders together. We “got” each other..often when no one else did. It was comforting to know that I was alone in my “outside the boxness”. That if I marched to the beat of a different drummer at least I was not alone. I was part of a drum section.
He used to tell me that the best thing about the foster care system was that he found his “long lost sister” and the system gave him a family in me. He knew he was not getting out. He didn’t want me to worry so he didn’t call my cell he called the house phone and left a message of love and hope on the machine. Told me to be strong, that it was all going to be ok..truly it was. That these things happen (I remember thinking WTF…no planes do not crash into buildings..no they don’t) he told me not forget when it all gets too hard..stop, stand, and take deep breath, just breath…just breath…
10 years have passed. The hurt, pain & loss are there. The anguish has gone one. I have gone back to school to get that graduate degree He always pooked at me to get. I graduate in two years, and will take it to NYC (I haven’t been back since I went to look for him so long ago) I plan to take paper and do a rubbing of his name at the memorial…to frame it and hang it in my office next to my degree.
I have in the past 10 years stopped first responders and those serving in the military and thank them for their service. I don’t always agree about the politics..but I never want them to feel there service is not cherished. I thank Blue star (those with members in harms way) & Gold star ( those who lost a loved one in combat) for their gift of their loved one. i invite you and your readers to do the same.
10 years…it will take 10 centuries more to ever make sense or understand. For me, I just try to breath.
Just keep breathing. Thank you for sharing your story.
And I’m sure your brother is so proud of you.
E
I was sitting in a classroom with 31 high school seniors watching them grow up right before my eyes. I watched the towers fall in the reflection of their eyes. I was forever changed. I will never forget.
I don’t think any of us will. Thanks for sharing your story.
I will never forget. I think we all lost something that day, even if we didn’t have anyone there. I hope and pray no one ever forgets.
Thanks for reading, Cheryl. I think you’re right.