As if it were yesterday

Eight years ago this morning, I helped an Indian lady and her son hail a cab while I was walking to church for my volunteer day. The boy was running late for school, and I was happy to help.

It’s a random, but very vivid memory. Probably because–when I look back on Sept 11, 2001, that was the last joyful interaction I had for a while.

When I  sat down to my computer at the church office, a friend IMed me:  “OMG, Jenn, did you hear?  A plane flew into the WTC!”  It sounded odd, and I didn’t know what to make of it, until he sent me a link to a video.

I couldn’t believe what I saw.  I thought it was fake; some very cruel and distorted hoax that was propagating around the Internet.  But just then, one of the pastors rolled in a TV. . . we watched wide-eyed.  . . one tower had fallen.

Just then, my friend from London called me:  “Are you OK?  Is your uncle OK? What’s going on?”  As I was on the phone w/ her — sharing the mind-numbing moments–the second tower started to crumble.

“Ohmygosh, Rach. . .the tower. . it’s going down.  It’s…  Rach… it’s… gone.  The towers are gone.”

“They’re gone,” was all I could say for the next several minutes.  My brain was not comprehending what my eyes were seeing.

The memories from the rest of the day are equally as vivid; I’m not sure they’ll ever fade. I remember what I was wearing.  I remember all the people who called our church trying to find out the status of friends who worked at the Pentagon.

I remember fielding calls from those individuals (who were, thankfully, safe) trying to help them get home, or find a place to stay until they could get home.

Playing call center was a huge responsibility because most phones and all cell phones were down, so people in DC and Arlington had to wait in tremendously long lines just to use a payphone, so for many, this was their *one* call.

At the time, I lived in Vienna, Virginia–about 12 miles from the Pentagon.  That night, I sat on my deck overlooking what was normally very busy road.

There was silence.

No cars. No people.

Even the skies were dead quiet, which made the sounds of military air craft all that more jarring.

This was 8 years ago? It may as well have been 8 minutes ago for how well I remember the day.

I’m so thankful that my friends and family who worked at and near both sites were safe, but my heart still breaks for those who can’t say the same.

Although I’m now 8 years and 1,600 miles away from 9/11. . . and even though the sun may be shining, there will always be a cloud over this day.