Seven Years Later: Remembering that Tuesday morning and the online community response

Let there be peace on earth,
and let it begin with me" -Jill Jackson and Sy Miller

I remember it well. It was a Tuesday. I had gone to work that morning. For me, it was just an ordinary day. After I arrived, I grabbed a cup of coffee, went to my office, closed the door and then settled in to my normal fifteen minute early morning routine: checking my email and phone messages. It wasn't very long before the girl who had been working for me, burst in to my office...with the news of what was happening at the World Trade Center.

Our work group had somehow wrangled up a television from one of the conference rooms and set it up in one of the empty offices. A crowd gathered as we watched disaster escalate right before our very eyes. We stared in disbelief as the second tower came crashing to the ground. Our Technical Systems Manager softly said to us: "Tower two is gone." We had all been standing and watching together...still I asked her, "What do you mean by 'tower two is gone'?" Soon there were additional fires and plane crashes in other locations. Needless to say, the rest of the day was a blur...as each of us called our families and friends to touch base and to make personal decisions as to what we should do.

My in-laws were here, visiting from another country, the same country of my husband's birth. They had also been watching the television coverage in stony silence. Arriving in June, they were to be leaving before the end of the year. The America that they had imagined and the America that my husband had dreamed of many years ago, were one and the same in their minds. Coming from a third world country, they were happy to be here in the 'land of opportunity', where everyone had cars, were rich and money flowed through the streets, as we all scooped it up in buckets. It did not take long for them to realize the real truth of the matter. When they first got here, we gave them a reality check; and during the semi-safe light of day, drove them around to see impoverished neighborhoods, where crime and desperation flourished. Clearly, their minds were blocked. They saw; but somehow, they still did not believe. Today, on September 11, 2001, they discovered that this was not the America they had in mind.

"Let there be peace on Earth,
the peace that was meant to be"

Long before they had arrived, we had made plans for them to visit New York City along with my parents and my sister. It was a bus trip sponsored by friends of ours. While my mother-in-law was just fascinated by being present in the USA, it had always been my father-in-law's dream trip; as he had always wanted to visit New York City. We thought that it would be a great opportunity for him to see the place of his dreams. The trip was scheduled for a few weeks later. They went, but with a deeper appreciation of all things American. They came back, realizing that they could say that they were here in the USA, in the year when history of the greatest proportions was being made. A few weeks later, we took our annual two-week vacation to the beach. We had a nice time, but the fun was tainted by the fresh and raw realities of weeks past. They left to go home that November, finally realizing that this was not the America they had had in mind. This was not the America we had in mind.

As I took my son to school this morning, and dropped him off, I realized even more so, the possibility of just how drastically things could change...in an instant...in a millisecond...And quite possibly, even before he gets back home this afternoon. This is the reality. Lets face it: Life is fragile.

"Let there be Peace on Earth,
and let it begin with me"

This is the America we need to keep in mind. This is the world we need to keep in mind.

I'm a native New Yorker and I'll never, ever forget the memories of that day.

My day job involves my watching television and news programs, often on several screens at a time, so I saw it all happen from the very beginning from several different shots and angles.  It was beyond horrific.

It was as if someone was invading my home and systematically killing my family as I watched.

The only time I've been that scared was when, as a child, I suffered through the many violent fights of my parents.  Many of those nights I was certain I would not survive to see another day.

So there I was many years later on 9/11 2001 seeing those attacks unfold and wondering if I would survive to see another day.

I don't ever want to live long enough to witness anything like it again.

Megan Smith ( http://www.blogher.com/haystackprofile/viewprofile... )
BlogHer Contributing Editor, TV/YouTube ( http://www.blogher.com/blog/megan-smith )
Megan's Minute: Quirky Commentary Around The Clock ( http://www.megansminute.com/ )

Thanks Michelle.

For the first few years, I didn't want to commemorate 9/11 or think back and remember.  I avoided the TV and the internet on each anniversary.  I still have not been to see Ground Zero, though I have been back to the city.  Part of me wants to go on remembering what was there before.  But sometimes, sometimes, late at night, when the house is asleep, I open up my files and bookmarks from that day and just read.

With time and distance, though, it has become somewhat cathartic to talk about what happened that day.  A loosening up of something frozen and hard and sad.

I have always been and always will be in awe that, although so many lives were lost that day, there could have been so many more lives lost considering the scale of the event.  And there weren't.

Thank you for your offer of prayer.  If you could, please also remember those family members who do not have remains to grieve over yet.  And pray that the government will right the wrongs created by the Fresh Kills Landfill tragedy ( http://www.nytimes.com/2008/07/08/nyregion/08remai... ).  No one deseves a landfill as their final resting place.

I was a member of a forum that had a number of New Yorkers, and what I remember most are the "check in" threads. I think it was a way for those of us without friends or family in New York or DC to connect.

Available Light ( http://kathy-p.blogspot.com ) & Five Dollar Radio ( http://fivedollarradio.blogspot.com/ )

It was our anniversary.  I waited up for my husband, who worked nights. He came home, I got ready for work.  I turned on the news right before I left and the first thing I saw was images of the first plane crashing.  As we watched the news we saw the second plane crash.  When I arrived at work I had to tell the two girls there what had happened-   As I am typing this I am in tears...seven years later.

~Susan                                                                                                                   

http://lilmomthatcould.com/

My goodness you took me back to the panic and horror I felt that day.  My heart aches for you today. A lot of my family live in NY as well and we know a lot who did not make it.  I just remember the panic and the OH MY GOD NOOOOO! Cries from my mom.  My dad who was the funniest happiest person you could ever meet just cried and smoked and called.  My parents only had 3 children naturally but they raised many more.  My dad was worried about his boys, my cousins who worked in and around the towers.  Then my mom's friend whose daughter worked at the Petagon.  I remember the busy signals and sometimes just dead air. Honey I need to go and pray and I will include you and all those like you in it.  

Michelle

I blog at http://www.mommycan.blogspot.com/

I was leaving the house to see a client when they called to cancel our meeting.  "Turn on the TV," she said.

I hung up and turned on the TV.  There were these confusing images of the Twin Towers, anxious reporters.  I immediately tried to reach my family in New York.  All lines were busy.  I went for my computer, but nothing much was online yet.  Then the second plane hit.

Immediately, I knew something was terribly wrong.  One of my cousins had been evacuated from the Twin Towers in  1993 and refused to go back.  I was frantically dialing anyone I could think of in New York. I could not get through.  Then, a plane hit the Pentagon.  I thought of an ex-boyfriend who works for Naval Intelligence.  It was hard to breathe or punch the right numbers on the phone.

I called my other cousin who still worked in one of the WTC buildings.  My uncle answered the phone.  He had just retired from decades of owning a company that manages the huge cranes at the Port Authority of NY and NJ.  The Port Authority offices were in the WTC.  His son-in-law worked at the Towers.  I tried to broach the subject carefully, asking him where Peter was and telling him to turn on the TV.  My strong uncle, patriarch of the family, became panicked.  He kept whispering, "I made him late for work.  We were playing with his baby, and I made him late for work." We were both watching the television as the first tower fell.  

Crying, we hung up with each other and tried to call others.  I have 3 cousins in NYPD, 1 in the Port Authority PD, 2 uncles retired from NYPD, a cousin who is a doctor in the city.  We have dozens of friends and relatives who work in the Towers or for the NYFD and NYPD.  I couldn't get through to anyone.

I opened up my laptop and began to type.  I followed what was happening on blogs, on forums.  I listened to the NYFD and NYPD online radios, straining to hear a name I knew.  I tried to call my husband in Wisconsin and couldn't get through.  I tried to track down colleagues from my old company.  One was missing here, one was missing there.  I finally reached my mother through email, "Where is Billy?  Kevin?  Danny?"  I wanted to type in all caps.  My house, my neighborhood in Chicago was eerily quiet but inside, I was screaming.

I finally reached my sister in Somerset, PA.  We traded information about what we knew.  Suddenly, she screamed and began to cry. "Mark (her husband in the State Police) just came in and grabbed his rifle.  A plane crashed here.  A plane crashed here."  And then the line went dead.

I started to hyperventilate.  What the hell was happening?  The only information I could get was coming from blogs, email, forums, news sites.  My fingers flew over the keyboard, desperately searching for information.  Nobody was reporting a plane down in Pennsylvania!  OMG.  What if planes were crashing everywhere, crashing faster than the news could even know.  My shaking hands kept dialing and dialing, the busy signals buzzing and buzzing.  The TV droned on in the background.  The voices on the police radio jumbled and confusing.  

The news confirmed what I already knew about Flight 93.

The second Tower fell.

My husband finally reached me.  I begged him to come home.  I thought of the Sears Tower, just a mile or two away, and I cringe.  The Hancock Building.  Where are the planes?  How many are there?  Rumors were flying.  

I reached my mother via email and then on the phone.  Billy is missing.  We think that Danny and Kevin were working at the base of the Towers, but now, no one can reach them.  Laura's husband in the Port Authority had traded his night shift for the Port Authority PD with a friend, and now is whole unit is missing.  Peter was late for work and never made it to the Towers before the attacks.  Sister Margaret Edward and Cathy are reporting that few people are making it to the hospitals yet.  Mark has responded to the crash in Somerset.  We cried and consoled each other, I read her what I can find from the internet on my laptop, then hung up and I started working the internet again.  I saw photos I wish now I had never seen  (they were quickly pulled from the internet within the first few days).  I heard things on the police radio I wish I hadn't heard.  When I first heard the call go out for more body bags, I just folded in upon myself with grief.

My memory of those first few days is a blur.  There wasn't much sleep.  I was glued to my computer trying to find people.  Although one of my cousins was injured when the second Tower fell, they all lived.  Many of their friends (our family friends) died.  A business colleague, a young newlywed, was trapped in the North Tower and never made it out.  Many of the employees of the company of a close family friend (Cantor Fitz) died.  For those of us who couldn't be in NYC during those first days, the internet kept us connected.  I was sitting at my computer at 4 am nights later when the first flight was sent back up from O'Hare and I remember wanting to dive under my desk shaking in fear when I heard the whine of the plane's engine overhead.

I have kept the photos, the website bookmarks, the emails for years. Everything is still here, in my memory and on my hard drive.

Getting e-mails asking about little old me was crazy. Some of the folks e-mailing were from a mailing list I was on and some had never met me, they just knew me via e-mail. It's crazy, but it definitely touched my heart. I try my best to return the favor as often as possible.

Dimple and a Smirk (dot) com ( http://www.dimpleandasmirk.com )

That was the remarkable thing about that day. We were all going about our usual routines, work, school, etc. Of the people I talk to about September 11, that is definitely one familiar comment...that we were just doing what we always do that morning.

Dimple and a Smirk (dot) com ( http://www.dimpleandasmirk.com )

When I talk to people from my mom's generation they know where they were and what they were doing when they heard of Dr. King and JFK's deaths.  THis seem to be that same kind of thing for us.  My son was a few days from being a month old.  I woke to my mother praying and crying. She prayed evey morning but by that time she was usually done.  I turned on the TV and just sat and watched in horror.  I remember us with the house phone and every cell we had trying to call relatives and friends to see if they were fine.  All the while my mom is praying and sobbing. One call in particular was to my cousin who worked for Smith Barney at night, he was sleeping blissfully when he said every phone he had started ringing.  He said knowing how much he was loved and cared about was overwhelming.  He said it changed him for the better. I cried for days.  I still shed a tear everytime I think of that day.

Michelle

I blog at http://www.mommycan.blogspot.com/

I got up early that morning, like always. I nuked a cup of day old coffee, like always. I read my work email and personal email, like always. I sifted through my work related message boards for flames or spam, like always. And then I went to spend some time with online friends, like always.

I was the community leader for some message boards at iVillage and it just happened that "No news is good news day" fell on 9/11 (that holiday no longer exists on the Brownielocks holiday listings - imagine that.) I posted it. With some funky questions and discussion about the difference between good news and bad news, and about whether you would prefer to go through life without any news at all... stuff like that.

An hour later, that was NOT the topic I wish I had posted on those message boards. Thankfully, the members of my online community understood that I had posted BEFORE we were all glued to our TVs. Before everything.

I can think of a lot of ways online communities have evolved from 9/11 and because of 9/11. Interesting topic.

~Denise
BlogHer Community Manager

Flamingo House Happenings ( http://www.flamingohouse.net/ )