Remembering Never
I didn’t want to do this for several reasons. Mainly, because I thought everyone else would. But then I realized they probably wouldn’t. When something big, emotional, and traumatic crosses our paths, sometimes it’s easier to forget about it. But sometimes there is value in remembering the thing you want to forget forever. It can clarify what’s important to you. In a sense, by remembering the hard things you refresh your list of priorities.
I remember it like it was yesterday…
I was living with my wife in our first house in Ft. Lauderdale. I had taken a job at an insurance repair business as a supervisor of a small crew. We repaired water and fire damage, mainly. My wife and I were also deep in the process of helping start a church in Miami, FL.
This particular day I was working alone. My job was to go to south Miami (Kendall, I think) to do some punch-out on an apartment building that the company had the contract on. I have always been a news junky, so I had the radio on in my work van while driving.
Just as I had arrived there was a new flash about a small commuter plane that had accidently flown into one of the World Trade Center buildings. Of course, in a short time I would learn that both those details were quite wrong.
At that point, I had no reason to be overly concerned or worried. I thought it was awful, but I had no idea. So I gathered my tools and went into to the apartment building to work.
I set up and went to work. I put on my little portable radio and started painting a door jams. While I was working and listening a second plane suddenly hit the other World Trade Center building. That’s when I knew it wasn’t an accident.
From there, the news was patchy. I was lacking focus and momentum, because I was a little afraid by this time. I continued working. I was dragging, but what else could I do?
And then the first building collapsed.
The news wasn’t clear on this at first. That’s because it was so unbelievable. Eventually, the truth was clear: The building was gone.
I was in shock and sick.
And then…
The other one fell.
By this time, I couldn’t work. I decided to take an early lunch. Mind you, I had only been working some 30 or so minutes. So I took my lunch in the van and listened to the radio. And listened. And listened.
Finally, I decided I couldn’t work. I was just so distraught. So I packed up, went home, and watched the TV coverage all day and late into the night. I couldn’t watch and couldn’t stop, all at the same time.
I went to work the next day. I also continued to watch the news coverage at night. But by the weekend, I couldn’t anymore. It was just too much. And that is the main approach I’ve taken since then.
I remember only when necessary.
A couple years ago, I flew up to Connecticut to help my Dad move. He lived in the south west portion of the state, which functioned as a suburb of New York City.
Through the course of the day, neighbors would stop by to wish my Dad well (we were pushing out the next day). One neighbor got to talking. We all sat on the grass in the spring sun. They had a beer and I had a Coke (since I hate beer, and all).
He got to talking about his big brother. Stories of childhood, being best friends, best men at each others weddings etc. ensued. So I asked if his brother lived in the area.
That’s when he told me all about September 11th. And I remembered it all over again. His brother worked in one of the buildings.
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He proceeded to recount the events of the day–from his perspective. He cried all the while. This was a big dude. He was a construction worker, big and burly. So it had quite an impact on me. I looked at the situation totally different. I’m glad he shared his story. In that moment, it brought clarity and does just as strongly every time I remember.
Remembering the things we never want to remember is hard. But sometimes it is good to. It helps us think on what is most important to us.
What were you doing that day?
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Thanks Jala and Leigh for sharing also.
I was in Gainesville, FL attending UF. I was getting ready for my English class and had the radio on. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when the song was interupted and the DJ’s came on with the news. I went to the TV and turned it on. I remember seeing it on the news before I left for class. I listened on my walkman all the way to class and halfway there the second tower was hit. Upon getting to class we all sat outside the door and class was cancelled. People started leaving and trying to call their families in New York. I watched the news the whole day and was so scared. I called my mom who knew nothing about it and said, “Well there is nothing I can do, I have to work.” I was mortified. Classes were cancelled and for about a week the campus was dead. I’ll never forget that walk.
Jason, I agree remembering is how we honor this great loss for the high price of our free nation…
I was home in bed ill that morning and recieved a phone call to watch the news, and I honestly can attest to Rick’s ingrained sense of this being an attack immediately. I am also a Marine.
Just after the news coverage of the first plane, I was in a panic in my mind, all I could do was wonder what would be next, will this be the only thing it takes to cripple our money driven nation? As all of us then soon found it was beyond our imagination, both towers and then the Pentagon… I stayed glued to the News like it was sustinance.
I made calls to my family and begged my younger sister to leave the city immediately. The call to my mother was most profound, before we discussed anything, her first words were “Oh those poor farmers, they didn’t ask for this.” Being her daughter, I understood her completely, she was referring to the good poor people of the attacking nation, it may seem cold but between the two of us, we were both pass the profound lost that was happening in real time for our nation and were both concerned with the future loss of life, because this was an act of war, and it had to be answered. It was unspoken, we are going to war. All I could say to her her was “Mommy, they are cannon fodder, those leaders won’t care.” I was so scared I went right to feeling like a helpless child speaking to her.
I was so angry I wanted to hold a peace rally, I have been behind the scenes and The War Machine is cruel. How can two nations that seem to hold the Love of God so closely be so blood thirsty and greedy.
I do believe that the media quickly hushed the reposts os children being asked what they think, most responded with “What did we do to them?”, before being coached in their responses.
When I was well enough to venture out after a couple of days, it seemed like a ghost town. Grief stricken people were everywhere. I was so dazed, it was like a bad dream, and everyone was in it with me. Focus was not a possiblity, I was scared to drive, other people passing me didn’t seem to see the road at all. Kids were subdued, the sounds of happy playing was gone.
As the nation began to regroup & grab onto a plan of action, my mother & I held lengthy long distant conversations, I was just outside of Chicago & she was in my hometown in Florida. I can’t say how comforting it was, but terrible at the same time, the distance was hard.
She made it a point to me that there were distant relatives in the Bin Laden family also residents in Florida & were the only people to actually fly out during the hold we had on all flights during the aftermath. They actually have a direct connection to the White House. Money is powerful it seems.
However to end the conspiracy theory, a good friend was on the Marine detail with the President at the school that morning and can say, the White House was completely surprised. I do hope we never see another 9/11.
Thank you, Mr. Swift.
I was just starting my second week as a Sophomore at Flagler College. I was in my Acting One class and was preparing for a monologue.
Ironically enough, the head of Flagler’s Communication’s Department delivered the message to my professor. I saw her reaction, and had assumed one of the students was in an accident or something like that, but when she said, “a plane crashed into the WTC” – I knew already that we were under attack.
They had tried once in 1993, I was in bootcamp during that attack, and I figured, well, I guess they tried from the ground, why not the air? I knew it was an attack immediately, and some people thought I was nuts – then, almost five minutes later we were told about the second plane . . . I didn’t seem so nuts anymore.
So, we all went to our next class, waiting for the school to give us direction, hell I was only one year out of the Marines at that point, and I LONGED for direction and guidance, and a target for my rage. When I got to my next class, Behavioral Psychology, the professor got in front of us and told us the school was shutting down, the rest of his words were a blur – as a girl sitting in front of me commented, “God, I can’t believe how bad my hair is today.” – seconds later the professor broke out into tears saying he had family that lived in Manhattan directly adjacent to the WTC and he didn’t know if they were safe or anything. He abruptly left the classroom and I restrained myself from lashing out at the 18 year old idiot in front of me. As I walked home I thought about my experiences in the Marines – everyone deals with things in their own way, we are notorious for our gallows humor, maybe this hair comment was the only way she could capture some normalcy that day, I thought.
Then I got home and immediately called my grandfather and emailed a friend who was working for a civilian “agency” at the Pentagon to make sure he was aliveHe was, I found out a few days later. My grandfather explained how this attack was different than Pearl Harbor, because it was televised, during Pearl it was all via radio and details were sketchy at best – and the drama played out over days. 9/11 was sickening in that all happened, live on TV – evil had landed at home and lives were lost as people chose how they would take their final destination to join God, by fire or by fall.
I spoke to everyone I could get on the phone, then I left the TV on for DAYS, I think I skipped a few days of classes and the skies opened up and we were under severe storm watches all week the rest of that week.
I went to work at a hotel months later and there was a guy there who stayed with us a lot and he told me that he called his wife that day and told her to write down as much as she could remember from 9/10/01 – that was the last day America was free and innocent.
America bled for months, and my heart still bleeds today.
I was in IHOP with co-pastor Mike. I was heading to Sudan the next day (Sept 12) for a mission trip and Mike was going to cover my bases.
All flights were grounded. And our church’s board wouldn’t let me leave for over six weeks. Missions changed dramatically after that. Missions is just now starting to gain back ground lost.
Thanks for sharing that. Powerful stuff.
I was in Cedar City, riding to work with my mom. My college was just down the street from my mom’s work, so I could easily walk there in the fall morning of Southern Utah. My mom was getting this little mom and pop eatery opened up for the morning rush. Brewing coffee, setting out bagels, etc. I was sitting at a table brushing up on some studying. Our time zone is two hours behind New York’s. The owner (a dear friend of the family) came rushing in. Ironically, he is of middle eastern descent, yet he was the one who kept saying something about planes hitting the building. Like so many Americans hearing the news from far away through a second hand source, it didn’t really materialize in my mind what was going on. Then, as my classes progressed that day, the most tangible, yet indescribable, depression and angst set in over the whole campus. By the time I made it home that day and started watching footage, I was horrified and, yes, crying my eyes out. I’ve always been extremely close to my family, and I couldn’t shake from my mind that thousands of mothers, fathers, daughters, and sons had perished just because they headed to work or took a flight somewhere that morning.