My babies in September 2001.
Eleven years ago, I was at home with my two wee ones. It was a beautiful morning — blue skies, cool-ish breezes, and the promise of fall was in the air.
I don’t remember what I had planned for the day, but since I had a one year old and an almost three year old, I’m certain our day revolved around nap time.
Not long after he left for work, Pete called me from the office and said, “There’s some weird shit going on in New York. Apparently an airplane crashed into a building or something.” I remember that so clearly because, unlike me, Pete’s not one to drop a lot of profanity into casual conversation, so that was a sign that he was flummoxed.
Can you remember how much the internet has changed the way you get news? By 2001 — just a few short years since I had welcomed the internet into my life — I had already radically shifted away from watching TV, listening to the radio, or reading newspapers and gone instead to getting my news online.
Thus it was that my first instinct on that morning was to go to my computer — with its dial-up connection — and see what was going on. Remember how different the internet was then? There wasn’t so much of it and it was slow and often clunky. There were a lot of text-based sites, not too many interactive sites, and no social media. Forget about iPhones, Droids, and apps.
The internet was basically down for the count that day, so I called Pete back to get more information. He told me to turn on the TV and check for news, which hadn’t even occurred to me, so I did. Sure enough, there were images of the World Trade Center with smoke billowing out of it. My girls were in the living room with me, playing with their toys and chattering happily.
I hadn’t been watching for very long when the second plane hit. Like so many other people, I saw it happen live, not recorded. The shock of that moment still makes my heart jump a little. I was standing and my knees went weak. I staggered back to the sofa while I stared in disbelief at what was happening in front of my eyes. My babies were totally oblivious and kept playing.
One of my brothers lived nearby and I called him to see if he had heard what was going on. He ended up coming over and spending the day watching the news with me. In the meantime, my children asked for snacks and juice and demanded my attention. Of course they did. They had no idea that the world had just changed forever.
Somehow, time moved forward. I fixed lunch. I changed diapers on one and escorted the other one to the potty. I insisted that my girls take their usual naps. Somehow, I managed to be a parent.
Later in the afternoon, I’d had enough. I had bags of flower bulbs and it suddenly became imperative that I plant them right now. While Ellie napped and my brother watched the news, I took Grace outside and we planted daffodils and crocuses. It was all I could think to do. We dug together and planted. She was just old enough to understand that planting things led to flowers, although the time until the next spring seemed impossibly far way to her. I wondered what the world would be like next spring.
The next spring, those flowers did bloom and I remembered September 11th. In fact, every year since then, whenever I see those flowers, I remember that afternoon. Blue skies. Cool breezes. Airplanes flying into buildings.
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I always listen to NPR in the morning, and heard an off-hand comment about a small plane crashing into the WTC. Turned on the TV just to see the second plane go in.
I had carpool duty that morning – driving 6 neighborhood kids to the bus-stop. I had the radio on. One mom came dashing out of her house in her robe, asking if it was safe to send the kids to school.
When I dropped the kids off, I stopped the car in the turnaround and listened as Aaron Brown told how the south tower collapsed.
it was so eerie. I was just numb. We did send the kids to school. They were safe. We were 3000 miles away from it. But the radio and TV were on everywhere I went.
It’s one of those events that you will always remember where you were and what you did that day. It was just so unbelievable.
Beautiful post.
I saw the smoke from the Pentagon as I was driving home from Tysons Corner. I completely forgot the groceries in the car that I had bought before the first plane crashed. My husband was in NYC, I didn’t know where he was in the city, and I couldn’t contact him because the cell phone system was down. He took one of the few trains that were running to get home that night.
I lost a dear friend that day. I will never forget watching the second plane hit the building and frantically calling his sister to find out where he was suppose to be that morning. The moment we realized we had lost him will always stay with me.
I just read your post. So simple and so awful.
Josie, I’m so sorry.
I watched a program (2 youtube videos) last night about the families and their loved ones who called home to say goodbye. It was heart-wrenching. For some reason, I felt it necessary to watch, to remember. I don’t ever want my kids to think it was just airplanes and buildings.
My sister was living in Manhattan at that time, but luckily she had a two hour commute to work north of the city where the company had recently moved. We didn’t have to worry much on a personal level.
Beautiful post.
11 September is my oldest son’s birthday. He worked at the time on a military base and was obviously in a place where readiness and plans were there for any occurrence. It took a few hours to get through to him. At the time we couldn’t know if there would be further attacks, or where. And our fears paled next to those whose loved ones were in NY, or the Pentagon, or the plane.
I will never forget seeing that plane slam into the Tower, just like a movie. And you are right, our children live in a different world.
I had just recently started a new job at a local art gallery, but stayed home that morning because I had a dentist appointment at 9 (remember, we’re two hours behind). My husband called me on his way to work and just said “Turn on the tv. We’re under attack.” I thought he meant Rushmore. I just sat on the couch for an hour shocked. I too saw the second plane and the towers collapse live. It was eerie at best. I kept hoping it was some Orwellean prank. I finally pulled myself together and went to my dentist. It took them much too long to put in a simple filling because we kept getting distracted by the tv. It sucked (multiple novicaine shots) but we just couldn’t tear ourselves away. Determined to bring some normal back into our life, we left on a long-planned vacation with friends for Chicago the next day (amidst reports of $11/gallon gas – which we never saw). We were supposed to be going to a Jimmy Buffet concert, but it was cancelled. Chicago itself was eery. The whole town was skittish and so many of the great things about Chicago were closed due to the fear of further attacks.
I have heard it referred to as “our generation’s JFK”. It’s true in that we will never forget where we were when we found out and our lives have not been the same since. My heart goes out to all those who lost someone that day.
I remember getting out of my car that morning to go into work. Looking at the sky, so blue and filled with puffy white clouds. Beautiful. Then I went into work, and checked my email. A friend emailed me to ask if I’d heard about a plane crashing into the WTC. I thought, as did everyone, that a small plane went out of control and I thought…how sad for the pilot. Then the world went crazy.
It was a day just like today. I was at work in Charlottesville, where we always had the radio on NPR, so we heard about it fairly quickly. The other people in the office were from NY and had friends and family there. They couldn’t reach anybody by phone because the lines were immediately overloaded. When the Pentagon was hit, we closed up shop to get to our families, not knowing if and when we would be back at the studio. My daughter was in school and my parents had just moved to a new house and didn’t have phone service yet, so I couldn’t reach them to see what was going on there and to let them know I was on my way. That was the longest thirty-mile drive I’ve ever made.
Oh, Jen. So haunting and beautifully told. XO
I remember as a child hearing grown-ups reminisce about where they were when they heard that JFK was shot, and not understanding how a moment could have such long term impact….and then there was 9/11. It was a perfect fall day, and I was driving through one of my favorite neighborhoods to visit a friend. When I first heard it on the radio I thought it was a joke -a sick tasteless joke- because I just couldn’t fathom something so awful. Every detail of that day is permanently etched in my memory…and now I understand what the grownups were talking about. I wish I didn’t.
I was 18, and in my last year of high school in 2001… living in New Zealand, I don’t feel like we were any less affected…. yet we were also separated from it.
Our coverage was obviously delayed, as when the first plane hit, it was around 3 in the morning our time… no one (other than media and government.. and those awake in the middle of the night, I guess) knew what had happened until we woke up the next morning.
I can remember that entire day very clearly.
I woke up and got into the shower, and within minutes my mother was banging on the bathroom door calling out ‘America has been attacked by terrorists’… and this is stupid, but my first thought, was ‘That’s ridiculous… she’s saying that as a tactic to make me get out of the shower’
We spent the day at school glued to the televisions, watching the footage over and over again, and just staring in horror… that was the first real taste of death and terrorism that most of us had ever had.
We’d never lived in a time where war was really something we were concerned about. I mean.. yeah there were smaller wars going on, there was always fighting in the middle east between Israel and Palestine… I’d learnt about dozens of wars in my History classes.
But the reality of it? And the suddenly short distance that America seemed to be from us… scary as hell.
I can remember being absolutely adamant that if this thing turned into a war, and that if New Zealand stepped in (which we did, but in peacekeeping missions, rather than battle) that I would enlist, because I was damn well doing to protect my country.
I didn’t. I actually considered the Navy for a while… but let’s face it. NZ doesn’t do war the same way America does. We have in the past… but we’re a little more peace loving now.
I find it amazing every year, when on September 11th, the subject comes up in my classroom… and these kids? Not a single one of them was alive 11 year ago. September 11th means nothing to them. Some of them have ‘heard of it’… some of them know someone who knows someone who knew someone who was involved somehow. But it never affected them, it never impacted in their lives.
And for that? I’m glad.
I think war and terrorism are dreadful things. Necessary at times, yes. (Because let’s face it….. those who flew those planes aren’t the only people guilty of terrorisim. Every bomb dropped is an act or terrorism, every bullet fired is terror for someone, and viewed as terrorism by their people.)
I’m glad that these kids are innocent to what the world is really like. I hope they stay that way.
Cate, my youngest was 2yo at the time. His 7th grade history teacher spoke about it yesterday, and showed 3 pictures, but they were of the towers prior to that horrible day, then standing but in smoke and flames, and then …gone… rubble. But my boy, he thought it was just about the planes and the buildings. I think I might have tried to let him keep that precious innocence, but he is the youngest of 4 children and this event was a big one for our family. His dad had to go to war when he was in Kindergarten, so I couldn’t leave it at that. I showed him a few news clips, so he saw the 2nd plane fly into that building… so he could realize there were people in the plane and in the building.. and then, to my sorrow, I shared with him the footage (brief, not graphic, but still horrible) of people who chose to jump rather than burn in the towers. THAT was his moment of realization, as he soberly considered nearly 3,000 people dying that day.
I’m glad his teacher didn’t show him those news clips. I’m glad I was sitting next to him, talking through it with him. And I’m glad there are innocent children out there today.
I posted about it today. We woke up a bit late that morning to typical local radio chatter, and then the breaking news that a plane had flown into one of the towers. Once it was established that this was not a sick joke, that it was real and maybe a BIG plane, I rushed to turn on the TV… and within minutes saw the 2nd plane hit the other tower. In the midst of all this, my husband left for work (he was active duty Army and worked at the hospital) and I had 4 children to take care of: two of whom attended public school, a 2yo to get off to his preschool/Mother’s Day Out program, and a 3rd grader to homeschool. It was the homeschooler’s 9th birthday.
Somehow, the kids managed to have a normal day in public school, for which I am thankful (no TVs allowed in classroom, but boy was the office subdued and watching TV!) but my homeschooler and I only put in a partial day of normal lessons. We curbed our TV watching when everything began to simply be repeated over and over again, with only talking heads and guesses. I worried about military friends who might have been working at the Pentagon that day. My mother called from my brother’s house 2 hours north of Chicago — she was supposed to board a plane that morning to Seattle, but of course that wasn’t going to happen. She managed to get a rental car by acting fast in Milwaukee and drove to home to Seattle instead.
Living in military housing, with all schools and stores on “the outside” of our gates meant that for a few weeks, we had to wait in long lines to re-enter anytime we came home. The five-minute drive from school became nearly an hour. My birthday boy, who turned 9yo that day, was educated by NPR and discussions with his mother.
Those silent, empty skies for the rest of the week… the sudden threat of wartime… the horrible images from the television… and a boy who knew for several years that it was inappropriate to celebrate with a party on his birthday.
Karen – I have over the last few years taught my classes about World Wars 1&2 ( just the basics) in the context of Religious Education (I teach in a Church school), as well as about other atrocities – the need for people like MLK and what he and others long before him went through, that he had to fight so hard for rights, I’ve taught them about Hitler and about what happened on September 11th. I’ve shown them pictures – much like the ones your son was shown. (Never the footage. Ever. I voyldnt and wouldn’t
Oops – pressed submit.
I couldn’t, and wouldn’t show footage of it.)
My class last ear… It was mentioned…. Briefly It really meant mean anything to them. And while, as a history lover, I would never want to NOT teach something, I fail to see why 8 & 9 years old need to be exposed to terrorism.
My kids this year….. We skipped right over the day. They never mentioned the significance lf the date. So neither did I.
There is time enough to learn of the horrors of the world.
So while I totally get your sons teachers thinking, and yours … I also get mine.
I guess having older kids who were odd enough to understand 9/11 when it happened makes a difference. But mine? It has never meant anything to them, and I hope that when it goes mean something, they are old enough to take it in, process it.. and see it as a part of history. Because that’s what it is to them Anything before they were born is history to them.
Anyway… That’s my thinking. I do think that.being in NZ makes a difference though. We’re more removed.. yet sill connected, and at times just as affected. But removed If that makes sense.
I was teaching that day, and tried very hard to protect my students from the overwhelming amount of TV coverage that seemed to loop the same images over and over. Not that I didn’t care about the news, I did. But I knew immediately I’d have to temper my own “need to know” with normal routine.
For us in the Uk it was afternoon. I had just collected my children from school and brought them home. I was pregnant and so had snoozed that afternoon . We got home and I got the kids a drink and switched on the TV to catch the news. I saw the tower smoking and thought it was a film, I went to change channel and realised it was the news and it was live. I shooed the children into the garden and watched in horror. I wept for those who were dying, for my children and for my unborn babe. The Uk had been to war in my lifetime and I “knew” what was coming – not the details but that once again our own would be called to give the ultimate sacrifice. The next day the children were told about it in school. Every year they commemorate it and as they have got older realise the horror of what took place. It is still acknowledged in senior schools each year but not so mu primary. As some one who grew up during the “troubles” in NI even though I did not live there terrorism was all too familiar and too many friends have died because of it. RIP (/11, 7/7 and all the other terrorist victims. And yes…my children played.
Yes.