“It was a beautiful Tuesday morning….” That’s how my September 11th story begins. I was on staff of a church in South Carolina when I heard about the first plane hitting the World Trade Center. What I remember the most about that day was the disorienting feeling I had. My whole world was thrown off and it took me some time to find my footing again. In a strange way, my September 11th story hasn’t ended. Even as we edge up on the tenth anniversary of that day, the intersection of my story and the larger story of September 11th is still unfolding. This is partially true because of the fact that I now live within 35 miles or so of what is now referred to as ‘ground zero’ but I also experience this continued unfolding every time I am reminded of what has changed since that Tuesday morning.
What’s your story? How has/does September 11th impact your story? Where were you? Who were you with? What changed in your story that day?
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My 9/11 story – That Tuesday morning I was headed off on another routine business trip. Leaving my house here in Basking Ridge before dawn, I drove to Newark Airport’s Terminal C to catch the 7:00 Continental flight to Washington Reagan National. I noticed the day was perfect for flying, one that pilots call “severe clear.” As one of the first flights out, we left on time and arrived in DC before 8:00. United’s flight 93 was scheduled to leave from Terminal A about an hour after we departed. My plan was to fly home again later that day, so I carried only a briefcase containing my laptop.
I was to make a sales presentation at 10:00 for the internet streaming media start-up I then worked for. The prospect, Intelsat, was located on the north side of DC, next to the Israeli embassy. I needed time to skinny down my master file of 130 PowerPoint slides to the 25 or so that would be best for the meeting, so I headed from the gate over to Continental’s President’s Club to find a cubby and get to work before I rented a car to drive up to Intelsat. As I finished my editing and packed up for the walk to the rent-a-car facility I heard the beginning of an animated conversation, but I wasn’t paying attention. As I walked through the almost empty club, a man was slumped against the otherwise vacant bar in his chair, looking closely at a small TV. It seemed something was going on, but I was in a hurry and thinking I might be later than I intended. It was about 8:40.
Quickly getting to my waiting rent-a-car, I drove out of the airport to get onto the George Washington Parkway, which runs up the west side of the Potomac to the beltway. My path took me near Reagan National’s runway, and I heard a huge roar as I left the airport. I thought a plane had taken off, going over my head. I looked up, as I always do, but saw nothing.
I turned on the radio and announcers, news people and callers began airing reports that a plane, appearing to be a silver one from American Airlines, had crashed into the Pentagon. Another story was part of the mix, a plane had hit the World Trade Center, and then another one. I tried to make a call on my cell phone but couldn’t get through. Well, nothing to do but get over to Intelsat, so I kept going. As I drove, the news and rumors came about what was going on. As a security measure, Washington’s many government and other office buildings were being emptied out and people were going into the streets.
At Intelsat, I was hoping to meet up as planned with Rob Blanchard, our local Systems Engineer, but when I got there (again, it was located next door to the Israeli embassy) people were exiting and several security guards holding what I took to be rifles or small machine guns were waving me away from the entrance. I found Rob on the street and drove to his nearby house. We settled in to watch the unfolding story and then saw the collapse of the two towers. We were able to use the internet for more news and emailing, so we got caught up with the rest of the company. Eventually the cell service worked enough for me to make a call home and let them know I was fine and would figure out a way to get home.
It developed that all airplanes were grounded, but since I had the rent-a-car I could make the four-hour drive home. The question in my mind was, which route should I take? The idea of taking the more direct path of I-95, what with possibly panicked drivers and the prospect of some other terrorist act, did not appeal to me. Instead, I chose to go north through Maryland and Harrisburg, PA, taking a slightly longer, but hopefully less congested or dangerous, drive home.
When I got back to Basking Ridge around 5:00, as I came over the hill on Route 78 eastbound, I could see the dark smoke rising from the direction of NYC, trailing off to the south.
I knew the attack meant many people in the New York City area would be dead or injured. Later I learned of the specific, horrific impact on people in our community. The approximate numbers: 24 dead from the Somerset Hills area, including 17 from Bernards Township. 3 were from LCPC, two who I hadn’t known but one was the father of two kids I knew well from Sunday school. 3 people in my neighborhood were also directly affected: one worked high up in the WTC but on a floor below where the airliner entered the building. He made it down the stairs and then over to Brooklyn, coming home in a day or two; another neighbor was coming up out of the subway at the WTC and got covered in dust and grime; and saddest, Steve Genovese was killed. He, his wife and two-ear old daughter had moved into town earlier in the year. We met them at a neighborhood party in July.
Too many close calls in one day. Dead people I knew and knew of. Silence over the usually busy skies of Basking Ridge. Fear of more attacks, including nuclear. Anthrax?
I haven’t felt the same since.
I still have a lot of anger at the people and the belief system that inspired the attacks. I pray often that God will make me a better person, help me to make the world a better place as he intends, and to continue to help me understand how I should respond.
I was an administrative assistant at LPC the morning of 911, when a staff member reported that there had been an “accident” at one of the twin towers. We soon learned that it was no accident and that another plane had hit. The church office immediately became “Twin Towers Central”, a white board was pulled in and we all pooled our knowledge of which families in the congregation would’ve have people at work in the city, not just in that part of town, but anywhere that it would have been difficult to leave. I had a close friend from Dallas who was in NYC with a breakfast scheduled at the top of the first building at precisely the time it was hit. He was blessed to have been late for the meeting. For weeks following the event, the church office became the center for gathering and disseminating information about families that were affected. The services that followed were both a great comfort in grief and a celebration of the lives that were lost. LPCP wasn’t my home church, but it definitely felt like home during that trying time.
-Cathy Malmstrom, Adm.Ass’t, in 2001.
Prior to 9/11 I worked in the WTC on the 44th floor of Tower 1 for about 3 years. Unbeknownst to me my Grandmother was very worried about me being there each day and prayed constantly for me to get a job elsewhere and to be safe. In answer to her prayers, earlier that year I did take a new job a block away which is where I was the morning of 9/11. We felt the whole building shake and rushed to the window to see all the smoke. Someone thought it was a bomb. I called my parents to tell them to watch the news, but that I was ok. And then we found out it was a plane…and then the second plane… We were evacuated and congregated outside awaiting any news or instructions – and we kept being moved further and further away to where it would surely be “safe”. It was pandemonium outside with so many people having been evacuated or rushing to search for friends or family nearby. Finally the fear was too much and my boss told us to just get out of the area however we could. A friend and I headed north towards the lower east side where we thought there wouldn’t be anything that would be a target. We got sandwiches and sat trying to get any kind of news on a bench in the projects. A woman kept shouting updates out the window from her tv. But it was hard to know for sure what was going on. We kept seeing and hearing emergency vehicles headed downtown. We finally headed toward her friend’s apartment in the village to see if we could get some real news. We sat there all afternoon glued to the tv and still unable to use our phones to contact anyone. After dark I was finally able to meet up with my roommate and catch a boat across the Hudson to head home – I lived in Union City. They had all types of little boats people volunteered to shuttle people across the River. We were in a little boat with a small motor that sat maybe 10 people. They had buses in Hoboken that were just heading in all directions and dropping people as best they could at home.
We lived in a tall building on the cliff overlooking the city. That evening I had all kinds of phone calls from friends checking that I was alive. It was very sobering each time to realize what they had feared and that it could have been me up there that morning too. And then about 3am we had a loud knock at the door and it was the FBI. They needed to see everyone in the apartment and all IDs. They had a tip that one of the apartments in my building might have been used for surveillance before the attacks and were combing the building.
My company worked out of a disaster recovery site in NJ for a full month before our building was no longer considered part of Ground Zero and was declared stable, allowing us to return. The air still carried a distinct smell, the remains of destroyed buildings stood as a constant reminder of the tragedy of that day. I struggled to go in each day. I dealt with depression, anxiety, and post traumatic stress disorder for a long time. Ultimately I ended up leaving NY and moved to North Carolina to be with my family. In God’s wisdom my life took such a wonderful turn there as I not only healed but met my husband.
As difficult and draining as that time was for me, it was also the closest I have ever felt to God – feeling him always there with me, upholding me and not letting me give up. I knew better than ever what it means to have him as my rock.
On 9/11/01 I lived and worked in Manhattan. I last saw the World Trade Center from the air on 9/9 when flying home from Pittsburgh. My apartment was just off the Hudson River at 70th Street and my work address was 11th and University near NYU at a young software company where I was Senior Vice President of Sales & Services. At the time we were exclusively focused on selling our software to the Financial Services industry. Therefore, I was at the World Trade Center very often and I knew it well. At my first job out of college I was assigned the WTC as my territory and visited almost every floor in every building.
Like many others, fate saved my life that day. A few months before, I received an invitation to the Risk Waters Technology Conference at Windows of the World Restaurant on the 107th floor of the North Tower starting at 8am on 9/11/01. The event was for technology companies doing business in the financial services industry. I spoke with a coworker and given our focus, we agreed that one of us should attend, probably me. So I placed the formal invitation on my desk. I remember the invitation since it was for an upscale event and the invitation was like a wedding invitation. The entire summer I planned to attend. Then I went on vacation to Martha’s Vineyard in August and came back to a very busy workload. However, I still intended to go to the event on 9/11. I worked late the night before and decided NOT to attend. I picked up the invitation off my desk and gently tossed into the wastebasket with some regret since it looked like a great event. Little did I know that decision would save my life, since everyone who attended the event perished. http://www.unpublishedarticles.com/stories/windowsontheworld.html
I woke up early on the morning of 9/11 and I still pondered going down to the event, but I preferred to work out that morning and then catch up on my work in the office. I was in the shower after my workout when the first plane struck the first tower. The TV was on and when I came out of the shower and saw the hole it made in the tower I knew the announcers were wrong. They announced that “a small plane had just hit the World Trade Center”. I knew instantly it was a 700 class jet because I new the size of the building. My heart sunk. My first reaction was to stay glued to the TV. Then when the second plane hit I knew we were under attack. I instantly felt threatened since my apartment was on the 38th Floor of a building directly up river only six miles from this attack. I went down to the River Pier outside my building and looked down river. I saw the enormous smoke plume and was in disbelief. My next action was to try to contact the members of my organization to make sure they were safe since we were in the WTC all the time. The only communications device that worked was our blackberry’s email. Thankfully I received replies that everyone was safe. I offered anyone who wanted it to come to my apartment for safe refuge until they determined how they could leave the city for their homes. Three individuals came and then headed north out of the city after a bit. We were all in shock. An eerie silence settled over Manhattan. Hardly anyone was on the street and the skies were silent except for an occasional F15 fighter jet fly over as they were now patrolling the skies over Manhattan. Like the rest of the country we were in shock and afraid.
About 90 minutes after the attack I went to the Red Cross near Lincoln Center and there were thousands of NYers standing in line to volunteer to help. I was very proud to see so many people willing to volunteer. We stood in line a long time but little did we know there was no one alive to help.
While I was waiting in line I received two phone calls, both carried bad news. The first was from a former coworker friend, Todd Smith who informed me that a mutual coworker friend, Todd Beamer, was in the plane that crashed in Shanksville, PA and died. I was shaken and in disbelief, so sad. One of the saddest sights I’ve seen in my life was on 9/16 at Todd’s Funeral in Plainsboro, NJ when I saw his wife Lisa in a black maternity dress with her children.
Moments later a second call came from one of my Recruiters who informed me that the Sales Professional he recruited for me and I was hiring Jeremy Glick, who was starting working for me in one week who told me he did not want to go on a trip to CA for his current employer nor did his wife was on the plane that crashed in PA and died. At that point I began to cry. I also remember praying.
I stood in line crying and strangely I felt incredibly guilty that I was still alive. I was overwhelmed that I could have died by going to the event at the WTC but survived because I did not attend. I was overwhelmed over the loss of an old business friend and a new business friend. I was overwhelmed by the loss for their families.
The next night, like many residents of Manhattan I defiantly went out to dinner and sat at an outdoor bistro. The streets were filled again and I remember thinking we will not give into terror. I remember being proud of the resilience of NY.
The days that followed had more silence in the air due to the commercial air traffic ban. The crossings were closed for awhile and when they were reopened all vehicles were searched by soldiers. My office location was within the Restricted Zone starting at 14th Street. We were not allowed to enter for a few days and when we finally could we were checked by soldiers at a military checkpoint. The soldiers were young, very nervous and from the Midwest. I realized they were there to help but their fear translated into hostile stares at us.
Back at work, our business was wiped out. Some of the companies in our pipeline no longer existed. The whole financial services industry was reeling from the attack. I advised my team to offer any help we could provide and to take one month off from trying to sell our software. We had to start over essentially.
Outside on the streets our beautiful blue skies were replaced by gray skies. The enormous smoke plume drifted with the wind. North to my apartment then west to NJ then north again, etc.
I suffered low grade depression about the experience for a few years. I choke back tears every time I hear Bruce Springsteen’s song The Rising.
I’m very thankful to God for the blessing of life that I have and mourn the losses we have all experienced on 9/11 at the Pentagon, in PA, and at the WTC.
My story takes place in the aftermath of the tragedy, on a cold evening in late October or early November, when 5 LCPC members helped serve food to the rescue workers near the site in lower Manhattan.
Our mission partner SHIP was taking their food truck into the City every day to bring food to the workers, and Tom O’Leary invited friends and supporters to join him and help with the serving. Tom lost a nephew firefighter on 9/11 and wanted to do something to help. He partnered with Time-To-Eat diner (on the Somerville Circle) who prepared the food; the truck and a carload of people went in each day, for about a month, I think.
The day I went the group included Jane Lambo, Ron Alkhas who was then a youth leader, myself and our new assistant pastor, Jeff Newfeld. Jeff had never been to NYC before, having recently arrived from the south. There were one or two others: I’m sorry I don’t remember who. At least one other LCPC group had gone the week before, and Steve McConnell was in that group. These were coveted spots, and those of us that got to go felt very privileged to have been able to serve in this way.….
The little caravan of the food truck and a van of workers was escorted all the way by a police car…through the Holland Tunnel and to the serving site behind the lower Manhattan police station.. The city was eerie, and the sky was very dark and full of ash. As well as I know the City, I could not get my bearings in the devastation. We all helped, serving the ham, turkey, coffee, soup, and deserts, and greeting and thanking the workers. My job was to hold a tarp over a huge vat of soup to protect it from the soot, and lift it as each one came for their bowl full. The first rescuer we served that late afternoon was one of the rescue dogs, with his booties on to protect his feet from the heat. Worker after worker came until most of the food was gone.
Before we left, someone had arranged for us to be driven through the recovery site, on the makeshift road and a sort of bridge. I don’t think we spoke a word all the way home. It was a surreal experience, engraved in my memory.
If any of the others who went remember their experience, I would love to hear it…
Ginny, I was there with the food van, too, that night. I still have the framed picture of Hanson, the rescue dog on my shelf. I’ve posted some reflections on what it was like to work in the church office that day. Was happy to read your recollection of our trip to ground zero to serve food. I felt it was a real honor to be there. And the dog broke my heart. -Cathy
Our memories of the 9/11 tragedy are both fresh and personal.
Our nephew was working that day on the 84th floor of the North Tower. He miraculously was able to break through a wall of debris, into a stairwell and down to safety. Just previously, he had called his wife and daughter, telling them his way was blocked and he probably could not escape.
Three people also special to us perished on Flight 93 near Shanksville, PA that same morning, when the fourth hijacked plane crashed into a farmer’s field. One of these was Todd Beamer, a Wheaton College classmate of our son, Eric,and remembered for his cell phone relay of the “Lord’s Prayer”, and his call (“Let’s Roll!) for his fellow passengers to storm the terrorists.
Today, a new student center at his Alma Mater bears his name Don and Jean Peterson, friends of ours from Long Hill Chapel, also lost their lives en route to California to visit their daughter.
Remarkably, the only item of theirs found intact was Don’s Bible, charred but identifiable. It is now displayed at the Keswick Bible Conference Center, where Don was a counselor to recovering alcoholics. It is a continual reminder to their love of God’s Word; and their confidence in His goodness and faithfulness.
Grace and Jack: thank you for writing your rememberance; I did not know that
Don’s Bible was found; I will one day go to Keswick to see it; Keswick was a place I use to go for summers when I was raising Danielle as a small child before she became a teenager. They ministered to single people, esp. the those seeking comfort during broken relationships. I received many wonderful blessing at Keswick and the joy spread by the good work in South Jersey off the Garden State Parkway. Thank you for sharing reg. Don and Jean I went to Shanksville last year for the 9th anniversary, made a new friend and took her to lunch in Don’s memory. JFoley
Like the beginning of everyone’s story it was a gorgeous day. Very, very blue sky. We usually take a last vacation to either Cape May or Wildwood to end the summer and this time we spent the night before at mom’s in Brick. We were talking about all the coincedental big things that seem to happen every time we go away and Andy said “I wonder what will happen this time”.
We got up the next day and went for a walk and we noticed that there was not a single cloud in the sky. When we got back we saw mom’s neighbor and she told us what happened. Of course she was crying so we went inside and watched the horror unfold and then the other plane hit. I tried to call my coworker but “all circuits were busy”. When we got to Cape May, everyone was watching so our vacation ended up being between watching everything unfold on TV to trying to enjoy our vacation the best we could. So needless to say the vacation was very odd that year but of course one that I’ll never forget.
i was 6 at the time but i remeber somewhat vividly what had happened. i got to school and it was going along like it usally did. i was in the smaller classes(like 6 kids) and my teacher suddenly brought the 6 of us to another classroom where there where also like 6 kids. the teachers told us to go play with the toys in the back and so we did. i turned around at some point and i saw the teachers around one of those tv’s on carts. one of them had their hands on their mouth and they all had such sad looks on their faces. the tv chanel was cnn and i saw that one of the two towers had huge amounts of smoke flowing from it. at the time, i didn’t know what was happening, but i could tell it wasn’t good.
that brief minute is the only major thing i can recall from that day.
We were living in San Francisco at the time. My Aunt who lived nearby called me at 7:00 that morning to say “Isn’t Chris in NY? turn on the TV”. I knew my husband was in NY on business but I had no idea where. As I called his cell phone and got no response and watched on TV the tower fall–and realized it was already past 10:00 in NYC–I began to worry. His company was not open yet, so I could not reach his secretary to find out his hotel or itinerary. The next 2 hours were really tough. I fell to my knees in prayer for God to save my husband. I found myself lying prostrate on the floor gasping out my prayer through gushing tears. Then God heard me. An incredible peace came upon me. It was not the assurance that Chris was alive, but that whatever the outcome, everything was going to be ok. I picked myself up off the floor–I had to get the kids off to school, deciding not to mention anything at this point. At the drop off line I exchanged a “knowing look” with the teacher receiving my kids. On the way home I experienced a minor miracle with the kindness and timing of God. I got stuck behind a truck on the narrow road to my home. This delayed me just enough to receive a cell phone call from my husband Chirs. A few yards more and I would have been out of the service area and we did not get service at our home. This was his one opportunity to call, he would not have been able to reach me at home a few minutes later. He was ok, calling me from a pay phone at the ferry building waiting to get off Manhattan. He had been in his room at the Marriott (between the two towers) when the first plane hit. He witnessed the 2nd plane going into the 2nd tower and all of the horrors that followed. His story of escape and enduring the ash from the collapse of both towers is a testimony as well.
The very next year we moved to NJ. There was already a bond we shared with the people of this area. We could truly empathize. 10 years later I have the confidence that God is in the details of our lives and His Plan for each of us is secure.
today i want to revisit an experience i had on 11 september 2001. i offer this story to share how God worked on that day.
fall of 2001 found me just starting my second year as high school youth director at liberty corner presbyterian church. our town was only about 45 minutes outside of NY City, and was located on a main commuter-rail line into the city. we had many families with one or both parents who worked in the city. at the church, i had begun to grow really close to my students and was really excited for the year as it began. most of my students went to Ridge High School. as i had grown up in liberty corner, and had attended that local high school, i still knew a lot of the teachers/administrators. i thus had a good relationship with Ridge and had the open opportunity to freely visit my students there. i was also invited to be a participant in a program called Challenge Day that this school was using to benefit the student community. the had piloted it the previous year (which i also got to be a part of), and they were now going to institute it as a yearly event for the incoming freshman as they entered high school. so the morning of 11 september 2001 found me at Ridge High School as a volunteer for Challenge Day for the freshman – school had been in session less than a week.
the morning had just barely gotten rolling, when an announcement came over the intercom (i believe around 9am) that something had happened in manhattan, involving a plane and the world trade center. the announcement was communicated in a way that didn’t lead me to believe it was a large-magnitude crisis – or at least i didn’t get the impression that it was anywhere near the horror that it actually turned out to be. no one in the gym reacted after that announcement. minutes later, another announcement was made that seemed to communicate a bit more of the magnitude of the situation. after this announcement, our program took a short break. i exited the gym with my current partner, Laura (one of my youth group kids), and we headed for the bathrooms. as i walked down the hall with Laura, i spotted another student of mine at her locker – a sophomore named Allison – as my steps drew me closer to her, i saw tears in her eyes and a look of terror on her face. and then it clicked in my head: “o God, your dad works in the trade center.” in that moment, we didn’t know what exactly the situation was, but knew that there was potential danger in what had transpired. i immediately put my arms around Allison, and began walking her toward the main office to make a phone call (cell phones hadn’t yet been acquired by every human between age 5 and 105).
at this point Allison was inconsolable. we got to the office and there were at least a couple dozen other people there already, all with red eyes and tears on their cheeks. allison tried to get through to her mom, but cell phones were down, and land-lines were jammed. i saw student after student that i knew…even Laura (who i was partnered with earlier) had ended up at the office – she had forgotten that her dad was supposed to fly from Newark to Boston that morning. thankfully he wasn’t on any of the involved flights.
it was unbelievable to be at our high school that morning. to see SO many people who had parents working in the towers, or others who potentially could have been on the involved flights that morning. it’s impossible to describe the feeling of being so close to something so horrific – SEEING the horror realized on the faces of teenagers and adults alike. i mingled around with the students i knew for awhile, trying to be some sort of presence. Allison’s mom soon arrived to pick her up – to head home and wait for word of whether their father/husband was ok. i couldn’t imagine. eventually, they received word that Allison’s dad was alright.
after seeing Allison off, and then tending to a few other students i knew, i eventually headed back to the church. anything that had been intended as work that day was postponed, and we spent the rest of the day on the phones trying to check in on all the families we knew who worked in and around manhattan. as the afternoon grew on, a handful of us started cooking – making food for as many of the families as we could who had spent their day worrying about a family member, instead of remembering to eat.
all in all, our church had a few families with members who died in the world trade center events that day. in particular, we had two families with students in our youth groups who lost fathers. the one, a high school girl, lost her father – and he was virtually all she had left as a family. the other – a brother and a sister, lost their dad – but thankfully (at least) still had their mom.
i still remember, in the days that followed, hearing stories from people – like, choosing to go into work late that day – a choice that unknowingly led them to be safe from the events that unfolded earlier that morning. and me – insecure, meager, high school youth director – God allowed me the chance to be at my students’ high school that morning. i’m not entirely sure why – i had no great words of comfort, i held no extravagant prayer vigils – but i got to stand beside a few students of mine who were trapped in a moment of thinking they had just potentially lost a parent. and i can’t think of any better situation for God to use someone in than that.