An Unforgettable Day
September 11, 2001, is one of those “I remember where I was, what I was doing” kind of days. It was an unforgettable day. Generations before recall where they were at the attack on Pearl Harbor or the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, but my generation will remember the terrorist attacks of 9-11.
Like much of the country, my hometown in central Florida was having a typical Tuesday morning. I dropped my two children, a fifth-grader and a seventh-grader, off at school and drove to the gym. It was busy that morning. I warmed up on the treadmill before my exercise class started. A line of about fifteen treadmills stood in front of televisions hanging from the ceiling. I was watching a morning news show when they announced a plane had flown into one of the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center. It concerned me, but I thought it might have been one of those sightseeing planes.
I thought little about it and went into my class. When the class ended and everyone left, the gym looked different. It was completely silent; no one was working out. Everyone focused intently on the bank of television sets replaying the video of airplanes slamming into buildings. I felt sick to my stomach.
Once we realized it was no accident and that planes were unaccounted for, all I could think was, “I’ve got to get to my kids.” My hands shook as I tried to start my car, and I had a little meltdown, sobbing over the terrifying events reported. I thought about driving straight to their school and checking them out, but I was a mess, literally and emotionally. Instead, I drove home to my husband, who had our television on, and we hugged and cried in disbelief.
My children attended a private K-12 Christian school, and it was not unusual for parents to take lunch to their kids. That’s what I decided to do. After I got myself cleaned up and somewhat settled down, I picked up some lunch and took it to them. Like a lot of other moms, I just wanted to see them and make sure they were okay. I ate with my daughter and her friends, then returned home until time for pickup.
What’s Unknown Is Frightening
The most frightening thing to me about that day was not knowing what was going to happen next. We kept up with the news and knew that the authorities had grounded all flights. However, people speculated a lot about what else might be targeted until they accounted for all the planes—could the attackers target MacDill Air Force Base 40 miles west? Walt Disney World 40 miles east? We just didn’t know. And was this going to be the beginning of a war?
We were okay, but I knew people the attack affected. An acquaintance was with her family in the Magic Kingdom of Walt Disney World, way in the back in Frontierland. She said an announcement came to evacuate the park, and it took a while for them to exit. She said that while it was calm, it was intense because no one was 100% sure of their safety.
A close friend of mine was visiting family in Orlando with her husband and children. She was supposed to fly back to Idaho, where they lived, on September 12, because she had to get back to work. Since all flights were canceled, they rented a car and drove across the country.
About three years after 9-11, I met a woman at a scrapbooking event who lived in New York City during the attacks. She was on the train to her job in the financial district the morning of 9-11. She normally exited at the World Trade Center but got off a couple of stops earlier to run an errand. If she hadn’t, she would have been right at ground zero. She said it was terrifying, and it took her hours to get out of the city. I think she was one of the many who walked back across one of the bridges. Within a couple of years, she and her husband moved to a small town in central Florida when their first child was born.
How We React To Tragedy
When something as significant as an attack on your country’s soil happens, it affects you. I remember being much more fearful of getting on an airplane, knowing someone might decide to use it as a weapon. I was not as comfortable in crowded spaces like big cities or football stadiums. I became hyper-aware of my surroundings to the point of leaving a musical in London (not a moment I’m proud of). But the worst was realizing there are evil people in the world who want nothing more than to do harm, to destroy. Before 9-11, that was something that happened “over there”, not in the United States.
The days and weeks following the terrorist attacks of 9-11 were hopeful. Everyone had US flags with yellow ribbons displayed. Stores couldn’t keep flag pins or US flag car magnets in stock. People rallied around our wounded country and each other. While I wouldn’t want another September 11, I kind of wish we could go back to that. A lot has changed in twenty-five years.
How about you? Do you remember where you were when you heard about the terrorist attacks on the Twin Towers of the World Trade Center? While what I experienced was minuscule compared to what the people at the scene of the attack experienced, I think it’s important to share our stories, especially with those who were either too young to remember or not born yet.
Kim Wilbanks 