It was a strange feeling, because I remember so strongly where I was. When the first plane hit, I was in Speech class. I didn't know, but this boy was giving a speech about carpe diem and why you should live each day to its fullest. How appropriate, how strange. I left class and noticed two things: 1) It was a perfectly beautiful day, with a bright blue sky and perfect temperatures, and 2) how campus was so deserted. It was 9:30 on a week day. Normally, there'd be people everywhere, going to and from class. It's not as if IU was a small school, so seeing so very few people out was bizarre. I walked back into my dorm, catching a snippet from the TV in the commons. I thought a plane crashed. You know, still a sad event, but that's all I thought. Just a plane crash. Until I went back upstairs and my suitemate had her TV on, sitting rapt with wet hair and a towel wrapped around her. She'd just gotten out of the shower, but couldn't bring herself to stop watching and get dressed. She was the one who explained to me that it was more than just a plane crash. Where were you?
So strange because the day before? My little hometown was all over CNN, because of a bank hostage situation. Just 24 hours earlier. If it'd happened a day later, NO ONE would've cared, but the day before? It was big news. A day later? It didn't matter. Life was changing.
I drove home that weekend, my breath catching in my throat as I passed the Indianapolis airport, still as a morgue. It was common to see planes flying in and out, but this day, it was like a ghost town. Shane and I got together with friends that Saturday night and we talked about where we were and where we were going to go from here. I remember drinking one too many strawberry daquiris and Shane's coworker putting her arms around my neck and saying that she loved me. I said it back and then, do you remember how for awhile after that, everyone just LOVED and held close? It was really nice, in spite of the great tragedy. I remember September 12th, when it'd sunk in just how many were lost, all of the people in NYC with signs looking for lost loved ones and how those of us who knew where our loved ones were? We just wanted to hold them so tight.
What if just for today we did that again, in honor of all of those who didn't live to see September 12th? I'll start. I love all of you, who email me when I have to go back to work and who hope that the sickness that has gripped our house passes and who tell me that I deserve a break and generally make me feel a little less crazy. Now, you do it. Hug, hold closer, and go out and love like it's September 12th.
14 comments:
Fighting back the tears at the breakfast table. It's still very fresh, raw in my mind. But I will. I'm going to love like it's September 12. Thank you Erin. I love your heart.
I was getting my hair highlighted. That appointment took 4 hours, because we all just stared at the TV.
Later that day, my niece was born and I became an Aunt, she's turning 9 today.
This morning, one of my best friends gave birth to twin boys, and they are perfect and healthy.
In the midst of sadness, there is still love. Lots of love, lots of miracles.
Speaking of loving.. http://www.guardian.co.uk/world/2001/sep/15/september11.politicsphilosophyandsociety2 i just posted this as a tweet.
I was a senior in high school and found out in the hallway on my way to an assembly by a teacher who even then minutes after it had just happened said.. 'i bet it was a terrorist attack and osama bin laden was responsible.' so wierd.
I was teaching a class of three year olds and feeling very vulnerable. They were installing fiber optic lines at the time and we couldn't even get online to see what was happening. It wasn't until 3:30 when I got home that I saw the devastation. I never slept that night. I was glued to the tv and couldn't move. I still remember the feeling of wanting all my family right there with me. Thanks Erin for a loving post. You are loved!
I had just dropped my 2-year-old off with my Aunt so that I could getting to weekly meeting in my real estate office. I turned on the radio and heard brief tidbits on my short drive, but thought it was a joke until I walked in my office and saw the look on everyone's faces.
Much love to you. xoxo
**sniff**
I was walking back from my coffee break at work when my boyfriend (now husband) walked up towards me and said - have you heard?
We managed then to get a hold of his brother who lived in DC to make sure they were all fine.
I went to a meeting after that, but all we did was stare at a tiny old TV in the corner of the room. I worked at a hospital, and even though we are many, many miles away from NY we had emergency meetings about how we would manage if causalties needed to be seen as far away as we were. Finally the word came near the end of the day that there would be no need for us to take on any casualties - which was sad - the hope was for thousands of INJURED people, not thousands of deceased people.
I was a Resident Assistant on a floor at Michigan State. I didn't have any early classes that day and so I was woken by my phone ringing, my Mom calling. I turned on the TV just before the second plane hit. I remember thinking it was so surreal. It looked like a movie - but it wasn't. The towers fell and I stood transfixed in horror. I never imagined that would be something I would see that morning. I remember standing in the middle of my room in my pajamas, my door wide open, my mouth open in shock and my eyes locked on the screen. My hand over my mouth when it wanted to be over my eyes, but how could I do that when people were suffering? Didn't they at least deserve witnesses to their tragedy? I didn't go to any classes that day. We sat in front of the TV and watched all day.I remember the footage of those that were in the towers above where the planes hit jumping out the windows before the towers fell. That is an image that is burned into my mind. Forever. What hopelessness they must have felt, what terror they must have been experiencing to make that choice. To see that as their only way out. My residents filed in and out of my room all day to talk, to process, to worry, to be scared. One girl on my floor was in a state of panic all day - her Dad worked within a few buildings of the towers. No one could get through to any New York number. Circuits were busy, broken, full. She had to go to bed that night still having no idea what happened to her Dad.
It is unreal to me that the kids I teach today have no frame of reference for this tragedy. That to them it really is like a movie - footage they have grown-up seeing of a past event they did not witness. I have no words to explain to them the time we lived and grieved in.
But I agree with you, we can behave like the 12th. I wish everyone could every single day. So I will continue it today, thank you for the push in a lovely direction. And I'll start with you. I love you. I don't know you in 'real' life but I feel like I do know you. I love your writing, how you inspire those around you, how you care and use your voice in honor of others. I love how you love.
yes. we certainly did love differently that day, didn't we?
i was working as a nurse and sat on the end of a patient's bed as we watched the news together.
oh, those families. =(
Great post! Love you, friend!
I was getting ready to go to class, turning on the radio to listen to a radio morning show like I always did before I left for IUN.
I remember the DJ saying something like, "Why haven't they evacuated the John Hancock building?" where the radio station was. The Sears Tower was already evacuated.
I went downstairs to turn on the TV. Something was wrong, and I saw the second plane hit,and I was afraid right away they we were going to war, that they were going to implement a draft and that my brother, who had just turned 18, would be called.
I cried. A lot. For the people in the tower and fear for my brother.
I was at work at a bagel shop. We opened early for police and firemen and so that's who we had in the cafe that morning. We listened to a small radio (as we did every morning) and the first plane hit. We all stopped and sat transfixed, and listened as the next plane hit as well. Then the men took off to do something. Anything. The next day we heard many of them left for NYC.
I frantically called my mom. Her family is in NYC. My uncle and cousin were on the way to the towers that morning.
They had been late. We found out later that day.
The cafe was quiet all morning. A few regulars came in, their faces stunned, and some were crying. I went home at 12pm and spent all day and night watching the TV. It was the first time I had SEEN anything. I'd spent hours just listening to the horror, and seeing it added another dimension. I cried a lot.
I went to NYC every year for 5 years beginning 2 years after the attack. Every year I went to Ground Zero and paid my respects. Every year I watched it evolve. Every year I felt the loss and hope of the space.
I hope to go again next year as my son is a bit better equipped to travel. It's a space I don't want to lose a connection to. It's a memory we must not shadow away in our minds. It's love we must never forget in our hearts.
(Jenny R)
Ultimate confession: When the 1st plane hit, I didn't know because I was watching 90210 re-runs and cable doesn't bother to interrupt Dylan and Kelly getting it on in Mexico to tell you that your nation is under attack.
I boarded a bus to campus and someone made a flippant comment about a plane crash in NY. No one on the bus knew what was really going on.
By the time I got to class (3rd floor, Balentine Hall, I still remember), the second plan had hit and my Native American lit. Professor (strange dude on a good day, even stranger that day), began talking about how we get through the worst days of our lives. No one understood what that had to do with THAT day. The shuffle of getting to class somehow deadened all of us from understanding the magnitude of what occurred.
He talked about the day his son died. About waking up the next morning and breathing. I chalked it up to his eccentricities.
He ended class with out teaching, us having only barley arrived.
By the time we left, there was a TV in every hallway, every common area on the IU campus. I remember standing on the 2nd floor, watching the towers fall. I remember standing in the Union, watching the towers fall.
I remember that everywhere you walked, you saw a screen with bodies and towers falling.
Most of all, I remember somehow not getting it. It took a few days for me to understand.
Erin, I love you too. :-)
I moved into a new house full of girls the day before. I had told my mom the night before not to call early anymore since I had roommates now. The phone rang at 6:15 am and I was so mad at her for calling early, she just screamed into the phone "we're under attack!" I ran upstairs, turned on the tv and woke up all the girls. We huddled around our tiny tv and didn't move for hours, totally unable to turn away from the screen. I'll never forget that day.
I was in NYC, just starting my senior year at NYU. It was a horrific day, week, month, semester. Many us were essentially trapped in our dorms in the days after the attack. You had to have ID to get below 14th street, and for the first few days the State Troopers that manned the check points didn't know where the NYU dorms were, and wouldn't let you by using only your student ID. It was a mess. Once NYU finally cancelled classes for the rest of the week (which didn't happen until Thursday!) I headed home - stopping to take in all the missing posters I passed on the way. Every single one.
But I also remember how united the city was in the days that followed. How immensely supportive, generous, and caring about each other we were. It was wonderful, if tragic that only in the wake of something so horrific can we find that kind of humanity.
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