When the planes hit the World Trade Center towers 10 years ago, I was sitting in Starbucks writing and drinking coffee.
Around 9 a.m. someone came in and said an airplane hit one of the World Trade Center towers. Must have been a freak accident, the woman said.
A bit later, another customer came in very upset, stating that two planes hit the World Trade Center and they think it was a terrorist attack.
The world stopped spinning right then for me.
I packed up my papers, got into the car, turned on the radio and drove to the office with a pounding heart, not sure what I would find, yet still not realizing on a local level, what it would mean to everyone individually. New York, which always seemed so far removed from most people, now became everyone’s backyard. And as everyone eventually found out, life would never be the same for any of us, in New York or anywhere else on the planet.
Life had changed, and with it the way we lived had to change as well.
But back to my story.
I arrived at the office where everyone was gathered watching the live events on TV, events that we would eventually come to see over and over again until our hearts ripped open for all who had lost so very much.
As I watched the coverage and realized how real it all was, I went to call my mother but couldn’t get through. Our phones were not working. I went outside on my cell to call my kids. No cell signal. They were all trying to reach me as well.
Panic ensued inside me. My mom and my kids for that time were unreachable, and my fear escalated. Moving back inside the office to the television, I realized my fears were not unfounded as the plane hit the Pentagon, the towers fell and United Airlines Flight 93 went down.
Our world was crumbling around us, time had no meaning and fear ruled my head and my heart.
Typing ceased in the newsroom, even conversation ceased as we watched in horror the images we all remember, and promised we’d never forget.
I finally reached my mom and my kids, and my life for a few brief moments was better. My little world was safe, for those moments.
Yet from that moment, R.E.M.’s “It’s the End of the World As We Know It” became the order of our very long day.
Watching the coverage on Sept. 11, 2011, brought it all back but magnified. Initially, I wasn’t going to watch the TV coverage. I didn’t think I could take it all again. These images not only brought back the horrors of that day and the sadness for all who lost loved ones, it brought back the memory of my own fears and vulnerability, frightened beyond belief, that the rest of the world, including New Jersey, would be blown to bits by any means possible. I remembered the fear of not reaching my loved ones and what a sinking, out-ofbody feeling that was in the midst of bombs bursting literally in the air.
So as the 10th anniversary approached, I struggled with how to deal with it.
Do I watch it all over again? Or not.
I turned on the TV on the morning of Sept. 11, and realized that the 9/11 remembrances all over were not just to remember those lost, but also to remember and cherish those around us who are still here.
So, I watched. Maybe I was meant to. Maybe we were all meant to. I prayed. I cried. I watched little children give messages of love to a father they’d never met, parents whose grief will never subside, and relatives and friends whose hearts remained crushed.
And, through it all, I remembered my own promise to never ever forget. And I realized that promise also meant to never forget what I had in my life — children and people who I love and who love me.
For when those towers were hit and those planes went down, what were the primary thoughts in our minds?
I think raking up the dust of those horrific gut-wrenching images gave all of us pause to rethink priorities, and realize that, yes, it is the end of the world as we knew it, but the hope is that a new world order will take its place, where we do remember that in the end, the thoughts we had on that day and many thereafter are the ones that count. The people we called that day to say “I love you” are the ones that count.
We are a nation of hard-ball players, skeptics, tough guys, but I’m guessing that when those towers were hit, no one called to settle a score, collect a debt or say cross words. They called to say, “I love you.”
Because those events not only changed the world, they changed how we live, how we think, and yes, maybe, hopefully, even how we love.
Even though the cohesiveness we felt at the time may have faded, the events gave us a different perspective that continues on the lives we live.
And that really is the lesson here for me. Love really is all around us, and watching those events 10 years ago showed us that. From how we valued love in our own lives to watching responders give so much of theirs. Seeing people and countries who stepped up to help us during that catastrophe.
And watching the images and remembering those events 10 years later brought it all home again.