Sunday, September 11, 2011

My September 11th Story

Everyone who was alive has one, even the tiniest baby being born that day. One thing happened but we all had very different experiences with it. Most of you may not care where I was but I want my kids to know, just like I know that my parents were going to get their marriage license when JFK was shot. I remember the neighborhood moms standing in the driveway talking about Elvis the day he died and seeing it on the news (we lived in Memphis). I remember being in 3rd grade CLUE when Reagan was shot. I remember being in 8th grade science when the Space Shuttle Challenger blew up.

We moved to Fort Riley, Kansas in June of 2001 from Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri. Robert was a Captain and was assigned to the First Engineers as the Brigade Engineer for 1st Brigade, 1st Infantry Division. A portion of the brigade was on a six month deployment to Kuwait so the staff was heading over that September to assist in a training exercise in the Kuwaiti desert. On September 10, 2001, I took him to the brigade in the middle of the day so the first group could head out to Kuwait. For the first time ever, I made him give me his flight information. I had just figured out you could track flights online and wanted to give it a try. They flew commercial from KC to Chicago that afternoon and then Chicago to London overnight. I tracked until I knew his flight had left for London and then went to bed.

I got up about 7 (Central) on Tuesday, showered, went downstairs, grabbed a bowl of cereal and turned on The Today Show. It would have been right about the time the first plane hit and they broke in and showed the building with the hole in it. They weren't even sure yet what it was that hit the building. A small private plane, perhaps. I remember thinking what crazy person would hit a huge building with a plane. I mean, they could see it, right? I turned off the TV, went to the computer to check and be sure Robert's flight had left London, and then finished getting ready to leave the house.

As I left my house about 830 for PWOC my neighbor stepped out and said, "Did you see that a plane hit the WTC?" Me: "Yeah. That's crazy, " and on I went. I headed up to Morris Hill Chapel for PWOC. When we got there, the chaplain came in and said two planes had hit the WTC and maybe one the Pentagon. OK, now it's more than some crazy guy who can't fly right. We prayed. I asked him if he knew anything about international flights because now I'm thinking back to June, when we first arrived at the 1st Eng and they needed a warm body to go be the unit terrorism guy and Robert was the new guy and got stuck going to terrorist training. You know, how to thwart terrorists, hostage situations, what to do if you are on a plane that has been hijacked, those sort of things. I admit thinking had he been sent to that class to be prepared to be on a hijacked plane that day. Kind of like when that plane crashed that time in the midwest at a small airport that had just done a big emergency drill the week before which meant they knew exactly what to do and everyone survived. Did God prepare him to be hijacked that day? Should I be thankful for that? No one knew anything about international flights.

We had a break and a bunch of us crowded in to the DRE's office to watch his small TV. When I saw the second plane hit the building for the first time, I finally understood that saying "my blood ran cold." It did. I could feel the cold throughout my whole body. We went on to study and spent the time kind of studying, mostly praying and watching a fellow sister wait for her phone to ring with news of her brother who was in NY (he was not killed that day we later learned.)

I went home alone after that, turned on the TV, and just sat there. I watched the replays. We waited on those last few flights. I flipped through all the channels just to see everything but the news stations and networks without programming. The local news came in and said if we saw a vapor trail in the sky it was Air Force One headed for the bunker in Omaha. I cried.

All the family had called while we were gone so I had to get on the phone and let them know I was fine. I laughed because my dad wanted me to come to Atlanta and stay with him. I was on post at Riley, locked in and guarded. I lived across from some barracks and they had armed guards circling the buildings for the next three days. I would have had to drive alone for two days to get there - no planes. He lived close to two AF bases. I was probably safer than he was. I called my neighbor whose husband was on the same staff but had not yet left for the training exercise to see if she minded if I bugged her to bug him when the plane arrived in Kuwait. Later that afternoon I went over while she called him to ask. They had landed and were safe. A few hours later I did get a call from staff duty with the same information. It was a couple of days before I got to talk to Robert himself. It was deathly still and quiet that night on Fort Riley. No cars, no planes, no trains, no helicopters. Just the armed soldiers circling the buildings across the street silently.

I kept a TV on for about 5 days straight. I felt like if I turned it off, I was giving up hope on finding someone alive. It was on downstairs all day and in my bedroom all night. I couldn't bring myself to turn it off. I held on until everyone admitted there was no hope. I stayed home for about three days because to leave post meant having your car searched when you returned, which meant spending an hour waiting in line. I didn't have to be anywhere so I didn't need to be in that line. The next day we were all standing in the courtyard chatting when a helicopter came low overhead. We froze before remembering we lived close to the hospital and that's what it had to be.

As I said, Robert's flight had left London right before the attacks started. They had no idea anything had happened until they were landing. The British Airways pilot came on and said they wanted to express their condolences to the Americans for what had happened that day. They still had no idea what it could be but a British passenger commented that it must have been bad for him to say that. They got off the plane and through customs to be met by some soldiers telling them to get on the bus out front NOW!! Once on the bus and underway they were told what was happening. He really didn't get to see much of the coverage on TV while he was in Kuwait.

Robert was supposed to be gone about a month. More of the staff was supposed to follow on later days. They didn't go but worked nearly 24/7 there at Riley for a week or two. Those in Kuwait decided to go ahead and do that training exercise as best they could. We had no idea when they would make it home. No planes were flying anyway. In the end, they made it home as planned but it was a while before we knew if that would happen or not. I have to say I was very happy to have him home.

That was my September 11, 2001. My prayers to those who lost so much that day and to those who have lost so much since then because of that day.

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