Our 9/11 moments

In 2002 – a year later - I asked family and friends to share their memories of 9/11/2001 moments. The following article – a result of that sharing – appeared in The Voice of the Southwest, a newspaper published by my friend Father Tim Farrell, pastor of the Sacred Heart Catholic Church, Farmington, New Mexico, at his request.

9/11 moments define our collective soul

by B. J. Trotter
11 September 2002

We were ordinary Americans doing ordinary things when the clock hand ticked away a minute that would throw our country into extraordinary times.

At 8:45 a.m. (EDT), September 11, 2001, most folks on the East Coast were arriving at work while the first, faint light of day was spreading along the Pacific coastline. At that moment, our lives changed forever. The clock ticked on, and it would be another 18 minutes before the second plane hit the second tower of New York City’s World Trade Center, and the awareness of that change began to creep into our collective consciousness.

While updating The Chicago Tribune’s Web site, Becky thought about her brother, a former NASA astronaut and now an American Airlines pilot, until she learned he was safe.

For Father Tim, a Catholic priest in New Mexico, the moment things got personal was 9:43 a.m., when American Airlines Flight 77 hit the Pentagon. Father Tim’s brother is a Coast Guard captain assigned to Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld’s office.

Comforting her students was foremost on the mind of Mary, director of the Applied English Center at a major Kansas university. The Center teaches English to foreign students, and Mary said they were “so far away from the comfort of their families. They were suffering, particularly my Muslim students, who were afraid their friends here would blame them.”

On Sept. 10, Joe Galloway, co-author of “We Were Soldiers Once … And Young” on which the movie was based, was sworn into government service as special consultant and speechwriter for Secretary of State Colin Powell. On Sept. 11, his first day at work in the State Department, Joe was standing in line to get his new ID badge and security pass, when at 10:22 a.m. the building was ordered evacuated. While entering the building Joe had seen smoke rising across the Potomac. He recalls, “I walked outside and now knew that the smoke was rising from the Pentagon where so many friends worked. People coming out of the building were gathering on the lawn, under the trees, sitting on the walls. I thought this was not too smart. I walked back to the Metro and tried to go home. It took me three hours to get there, by Metro, by city bus and by foot. I kept trying to call my wife on her cell phone, but the lines were all jammed.” All morning Joe was thinking about his old Vietnam War buddy Rick Rescorla, chief of security for Morgan Stanley’s office in the WTC.

Linda teaches third grade in Memphis. Her thoughts were with her son-in-law who would have been exiting his commuter train under the WTC that morning. “Some folks were asking, ‘Where is God?’ ” Linda said, but she knows God was with her son-in-law when he missed his train that morning.

The God they worship was with these friends during those heart-wrenching moments, and was with the victims and their loved ones.

The horror unfolding brought every one of us a kinship with every person in those buildings and on those planes. In an instant, they were our brothers and sisters. In another instant, their souls seemed to meld into one American soul, defying defeat by any evil foe.

More than 500,000 anxious minutes later, I asked these friends, and 52 other friends and family members across this country, to reflect on that fateful day. With few exceptions, they were willing and anxious to email their 9/11/2001 experiences. Our actions and our reactions as we went about our early morning routines that day are locked indelibly in memory.

Some were already at work; others had not yet had their morning coffee. Some were dropping their children off at school, enjoying a morning run or working out at a gym. One was waiting to board a flight when the country’s airlines shut down. Ordinary people doing ordinary things.

Without exception, each of us picked up the telephone to call loved ones: spouses, parents, children, friends. We wanted to know if they were getting the news, and, above all, we had to know they were safe. Just like the victims in those buildings and on those planes, we sought comfort hearing the voices of those we love.

However much we complain about “the media,” it is there when we need it – a lifeline, a free press which keeps us informed. We were listening to car radios, viewing news streamers on computers, “glued” to TVs. I remember “Today” going off, then Katie Couric saying, “We have breaking news.” I remember Matt Lauer's incredulity when he said, “That building’s coming down!”

One of the toughest jobs that morning was the comforting of children. Emails from young mothers, a pre-school teacher, a school pictures photographer and two elementary school teachers revealed they were no small heroes that day as they protected little ones in their charge.

“My mom and Jack picked me up from school,” recalls 12-year-old great-nephew Spencer. “They were trying to explain to me what happened. I had heard the teachers’ radios, but no announcements were made or discussed that day. Just silence. I was angry and sad that so many people died and were hurt. I called my dad, because he was supposed to fly somewhere that day.”

When reading Spencer’s email, I was reminded of the opening of the movie “Platoon:” “The first casualty of war is innocence.”

One of our first thoughts that morning was “How can I help?” In the days ahead we would pour out our pocketbooks and our prayers for the families of the victims.

John, a Microsoft executive in Washington State, said, “I was amazed at the level of our community involvement at work. I was leading our division’s United Way campaign at the time, and many people approached me to see how they could help. Microsoft really rallied and immediately played a major role in building the computer infrastructure for the Ground Zero crews. They set up computers to help loved ones looking for those lost. They set up the infrastructure the Red Cross needed to run things in NYC. Several folks from Seattle drove to NYC with computer systems and their own expertise and helped without thought of commercial gain. The feeling of national unity and genuine community was amazing, and everyone I worked with was inspired to reach out and join together in a way I’ve never experienced.”

Reflections on that fateful day continue. Some of us remember feeling suddenly cold or as if we were hit in the stomach. We felt anger. We felt fear. We felt pride. We felt love. We felt pain.

Linda keeps picturing all those waiting ambulances and medical personnel, lined up and ready to save victims who never came out of the rubble. I remember thinking New Yorkers really do have “heart.”

Father Tim remembers: “I guess the saddest moments of this whole horrible mess were the haunted eyes of all the loved ones with little Xeroxed and computer-generated pictures of their missing loved ones. Person after hurting person stared at me in my comfortable living room. There they were looking for hope with a little picture on a piece of paper. I didn't know them, but I hurt for them then, and I hurt for them now. It was the most helpless feeling I have ever felt.

“As a priest, I visit the sick and the dying all the time. There is great comfort I can bring them. In this instance, I felt so helpless. But, I prayed for all those lost and saddened eyes. They still haunt me, and I still pray for them. I probably will for the rest of my life.

“Late night Tuesday, Sept. 11th, I sat with Father Ray Mahlmann, a New York City boy and my good friend and assistant pastor. We sat together in silence in our living room of the rectory, watching the dark city of New York, his hometown, enveloped in tragedy and loss. All of a sudden it struck me: when I was a little boy and terrible things happened, my Mama would make chocolate chip cookies, and I would eat them with a big glass of milk. I went into the kitchen and made homemade cookies, and we ate ALL of them with lots of cold milk. After such a horrible day, this seemed my answer: that by eating cookies and milk, the sun would come up tomorrow, and we would rebuild. Cookies and milk can do that for a soul.”

Niece Debra remembers her husband Preston (with a degree in construction management) was explaining to her that there was no way the buildings could remain standing because “the soaring heat on the steel structure will cause the supports to weaken and collapse” when a minute later the first building fell.

Several who emailed had the personal experience of having seen NYC from the top of the WTC and dining at Windows on the World.

My son Ladd emailed that “nothing short of ‘War and Peace’ could express what we have all felt since that tragic event.”

Friend Faye, wife of a Unity pastor in St. Louis, prayed the Unity “Prayer of Protection:” “The love of God enfolds us; The power of God protects us; The presence of God watches over us, Wherever we are, God is.” Friend Gene, who had worked in a newsroom with me here in South Carolina, simply ended his email: “Prayed a lot.”

Ann, the mother of 4-year-old Ryan, is concerned that we are becoming apathetic, that we are forgetting the enormity of our wound. “I feel more vulnerable than I did a year ago. I feel like we could be attacked at any time. Every day before I turn on my TV, I say a little prayer that nothing has happened.” Ann, whose birthday is the 11th of September, is worried about Ryan’s world.

As the clock ticked toward midnight on that new “day of infamy,” Microsoft’s John was second-guessing himself: “Strangely enough, it took some time for the ramifications to sink in. I remember one newsperson saying life as we knew it would take a dramatic turn. Honestly, I remember questioning that since it was ‘so far away,’ both geographically –from Seattle – and culturally – NYC and all it stands for. By the end of the day – as predicted – life began its gradual but pervasive shift to ‘post-9/11.’ ”

Writer Joe Galloway’s old war buddy Cyril R. “Rick” Rescorla died that day: “Rick called for an immediate evacuation and was responsible for saving the lives of 3,000 Morgan Stanley employees. He got them all out but five, and he had gone back in to get them when the building fell in. Rick died in that building, but he died saving the lives of 3,000 people and preventing incalculable damage to the lives of their spouses, children, siblings, parents and friends – a circle that surely totaled more than 15,000 other people. We miss him and mourn his absence, but Rick died a real American hero.”

We must draw upon the strength and resolve of all the heroes that day and trust that, in the words of the patriotic song, “Right is right, and right will stand the test.”
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An important second post follows.