9/11 Remembered
It’s been 5 years since that dreaded day, and of course, once more (as on every anniversary since then), I’m remembered “where I was” that day. Here’s my story; feel free to share yours:
I had class first thing that morning (music major at ISU). My usual routine was to get up early and get ready quietly (since my roommates, inevitably, did not have class as early as I did). So I hadn’t had the TV or even a radio on all morning.
I was sitting in FA 309 with a few other students, waiting for class to start when the off-campus students started trickling in with news:
“Have you guys heard about the World Trade Center?”
“What?”
“I heard on the radio that a plane hit the World Trade Center.”
“I heard a plane hit the Pentagon.”
Amidst our confusion, our teacher entered, ignored all the import of the news, and conducted class as usual.
My next class was (MIDI basics) was in a computer lab, so I (along with several of my classmates) rushed downstairs to check the internet for news before class started. I hopped onto MSN.com and saw a story that only increased my confusion: the WTC had, indeed, been hit by a plane, and one of the towers had collapsed. What?
As before, our teacher ignored the shocking news break and went on with class as usual. (Can you believe it?!)
After class, with no recital scheduled that day, I began walking back to my dorm room, but saw a crowd of people pushing their way into the campus computer lab, and decided to see what was going on. Their eyes were glued to a TV mounted in the corner of the lounge area. It was showing footage of the tower collapsing. …Make that the second tower collapsing. It had happened just minutes before.
I had never heard the campus so quiet, or felt it so tense. The students were shocked, dazed, afraid, confused. It seemed impossible to be seeing what we were seeing unfold. When I returned to my dorm, I found the floor eerily silent except for the buzz of news coverage - every TV on the floor was on and every door was open. Every room I walked by, the girls were sitting on their beds, hands to their mouths, staring at the TV screen, eyes wide with disbelief. My roommate (who was from Japan) was just gathering up to rush to class; she, too, had been caught up in the horrific story and could manage no more than a “hi” as she handed me the remote, a figurative baton in a gruesome marathon of terror. I sat for a long while watching the coverage, though not much “new” news was being covered (apart from the sickeningly stupid gas price jump - which freaked out all those “away from home” students in the dorms). After a while, I began to hear conversations floating down the halls as girls began calling their families, some just to “check in” (desperate to feel connected during a rather frightening ordeal) and some to honestly see if their loved ones were still alive (some girls had friends or family members going to, coming back from, or in and around New York at the time - especially fathers, away on business). I called my dad to “check in”. It was a quiet conversation with many pauses. Neither of us really had anything to say. It was just that “connection” thing.
No one I know was hurt or had any loved ones hurt or killed in the attacks. But the campus was in a daze for a long while after that. I remember picking up a copy of the Statesman the next day (which I still have); it was chock full of stories and interviews, poetry and artwork, and on the back, an American flag. These flags were displayed in nearly every window of every dorm on campus for the rest of the year. The flag became the new and unofficial symbol of 9/11 - a reminder that “freedom don’t come free”, a symbol of sacrifice, courage, valor, honor, hope and sorrow mingled. The passion and fire of the American spirit came alive again that day, a phoenix rising from the ashes of 220-stories-worth of rubble and countless international lives. (It’s important not to forget that either.) The rage we felt as a nation was fueled into music, art, and action. It was, and still is, an amazing thing to witness.
If I can find it this evening, I’ll post the poem I wrote after 9/11.