It was Twitter and Facebook that broke the death of Michael Jackson, statuses were flooded when Obama was called a "liar" by the Joe Wilson earlier in the week and users are most popular during their birthdays when their walls are flooded with posts from friends.
Not sure how I really feel about that. Part of me thinks that it's a great form of outlet that allows everyone to express how they feel, but on the other side of it, it also creates this massive bandwagon that gives the truly opinionated a soapbox.
But I've gone down a path on a topic which wasn't meant for this entry.
Rather than saying "I will remember" this day and its significance in our history and my life, there's a part of me that wants to say, I want to forget this day.
Tuesday, September 11, 5:00 AM
Buzz buzz buzz, the siren of the alarm clock goes off. A few grunts, a tug of the blanket and an ever so slight adjustment of my head in order to find a cooler side of pillow ensues. Buzz buzz buzz. "Are you going to get that" Alice, my girlfriend moans out. "It's for you, you have a flight to catch", I say quickly in order to not say too much to avoid getting my brain fully functioning, side stepping a full wake up of senses.
She gets up, prepares herself and less than :30 minutes later, she screams from the front door "bye". Door slams and wakes up the dog evident by the slight growl he let out from being disturbed from his sleep.
We've been living together for a few years and would later marry and then divorce. We were in a good point in our relationship, we both had a good job, we owned a great townhouse and marriage was the next step for us. We both travelled a lot for our jobs, I would travel throughout the US and she would go to England and Scotland a few times a year. This trip was to London.
There were times when I would be gone for several days every week. Years ago when I started travelling for my company, she was so worried about the flying that her mother gave her a small gift that was to be placed in my travel bag. It's a tiny plastic frog glued onto a decorative little card. On the back of the card it reads:
Japanese Kaeru Frog
In Japanese, the word kaeru means both "frog" and "return".
Tucked in a traveler's purse or carry-on, our little frog carries wishes for a safe return home.
I thought it was a good gesture and really showed her concern with my travelling so I never joked about bad flights, turbulence or anything that would've aided in her angst.
After another hour or so in bed, I had to get up. I had a quick day trip with the President of my company to New York city that day. We were planning on taking the 10 AM shuttle, we would meet in the office then ride to airport together.
Tuesday, September 11, 8:00 AM
I arrive at the office. Shortly afterwards I find out that we won't be going to New York that day, meetings were cancelled.
Tuesday, September 11, 9:15 AM
"Hey Victor, good thing you didn't go to New York today, there seems to have been a plane crash there".
I go to the conference room where a few people are gathered watching the news. We all saw the same thing most of the world saw, part of the World Trade Center in flames. Speculation about pilot or engine failure and general concern. No one said anything about terrorists. Why would someone talk about terrorists? Up to that point we really didn't have anything to worry about.
As the camera is live on the tower's we all see the image that still haunts us to this day. Another plane hits. It's one of those "I remember exactly where I was at the time it happened" moments. Disbelief, surprise, concern and utter shock. The weird part was that no one in that conference room was in a state of panic. We were in Boston away from it all, terrorism wasn't a natural reaction and our demeanor was more about confusion than chaos.
Then the shit hit the fan.
More planes in the sky, more planes grounded, more "potential" targets.
If you've ever gotten punched in the face, its a feeling that you will never forget. At first it's less about the pain of getting hit, but the shock that you just got hit, then like Novocaine, it's a slow yet effective stream of numbness. That's what it felt like. But what pain? Sure I felt bad for everyone in New York, but how close to home did it really hit? I was in Boston, Alice was on a plane to London. Holy fuck. ALICE WAS ON A PLANE!!!!
She didn't pick up her phone, but she wasn't supposed to, her flight was supposed to be in the air, no info on its departure, nothing. Her flight was supposed to be at 9 AM so it's probably over the Atlantic now so that could be good I guess.
A plane is heading to Washington D.C.
Another plane has been spotted off course near Pittsburgh
You got to be kidding me. Not even video games can re-enact what was happening in the skies.
Then my cell phone rang. It was Alice.
"Hey, just wanted to let you know we're delayed a bit, we're on the runway, but for some reason the pilot said we are waiting a bit."
"Get the fuck off that plane now", I scream. So loud that co-workers started to gather around my office when they realized that Alice was on a plane. "Go to the emergency row, pull the fucking handle and jump on the wing and get the fuck off."
"What are you talking about?" she says with a, I'm totally annoyed with you, tone.
"Listen, two planes just crashed in New York and two more are being tracked, something bad is happening, don't know what but you should not be on a plane right now."
In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have said that. The last thing you want to do in that situation is tell someone who is petrified of flying, whose plane is on a runway about to take off, that there were just two planes that crashed in the same location 30 mins a part and two more that may.
"Hold on, I think we're going back to the terminal, I'll call you back" she said.
Tuesday, September 11, 10:30 AM
I'm outside of Logan Airport in Boston. It's a circus. Military personnel, vehicles, cops both state and local and security guards from every Tiffany's and local bank was everywhere. Alice wasn't picking up her phone and I had no idea where to start. The airport was locked down. Only people coming out, no one allowed to go in.
Phone rings.
"They're not letting me get my bags, what do I do?"
"Go home, get in a cab and I'll meet you there. They won't let me near the airport, I'm heading home."
Tuesday, September 11, 12:00 PM
I'm walking through downtown Boston heading towards the train station, most offices are closing so employees can get home to their families. The expressions are varying, from concern to confusion. I pass by a church and glance in, people are starting to spill in, it looked like a uniformed cadence of people praying for something. From the one lonely tear that fought to cling onto their cheek fighting gravity to avoid the lonely plummet to the head bow that spoke more in its silence than any of the screams and crying echoing from others. Was this real, I thought? What is happening?
I get home and Alice is on the couch in tears. She's watching the news. Her fear of flying was no longer a fear, it had become a sentencing. A verdict that to her was a lifelong albatross. No more flying, she cheated it that day and it confirmed her fears.
Tuesday, September 11, 4:00 PM
We start to get some semblance of normalcy, we decided to avoid the media, nothing good can come out of it.
We start to get some semblance of normalcy, we decided to avoid the media, nothing good can come out of it.
The phone rings. "Yes, she lives here, hold on one sec."
All I heard were a few yes's, a no, some maybes and a handful of I think so. No thank you or goodbye. She comes back to the couch, takes the remote and switches back to CNN. Not wanting to add to the stress, I chose not to ask. I'll let her decide what's best.
The flood gates opened up. Hysterical tears, screaming and violent eruptions. She had lost it. Things broke, shelves fell, even the petals from a bouquet of flowers started to instantly wilt and take its plunge off the stem.
"That was the FBI, they wanted to confirm that I was on the American Airlines London flight. They asked if I noticed anything weird on the flight and types of people. They want me in for questioning and will call me to have someone pick me up."
Then on CNN it was announced that the government believes that there were more flights targeted for hijacking. They said that one flight from Atlanta to Germany was believed to be one and one from Boston to London...her flight.
Flash Forward
In the days and weeks to come, it was a slow healing process. Alice took some time from work and eventually quit the job due to the stress of having to travel again.
We got engaged the next year and married the following year. Subsequently, divorced years later. Every year, like most Americans, Alice takes that day to reflect. She couldn't get herself to watch any of the movies or shows made about that day and never talks about it.
Her story is just one of millions. There are people out there that lost loved ones, friends and most that didn't lose anyone but still overcome with emotion to the impact of that day. No one person's grief is more important than someone else's.
I have a friend who was supposed to be on one of the flights that hit in NYC, he was persuaded last second to stay in Boston for another meeting. He still has his boarding pass.
So on this day when most will have their own little story, anecdote or reflection, it gives me a brief pause when I hear that we will all remember that day. So maybe it's a bit insensitive but I'd rather forget it. I will honor that day and the people involved but like a bad memory or accident, no one wants to be reminded of those living nightmares.
Although, my relationship with Alice ended, I still carry the travel frog with me, I don't know how she goes about on this day or others that I know who have been affected.
But what I will choose to remember is the belief that in times of adversity and pain, we can choose to enhance the pain and join in the sorrow or figure out how to move onwards, some choose to remember and relive the pain while others move on. Sure we don't forget these moments but to know that something happened in order to be better from it is better than revisiting that emotional strain. It's all symantics I guess and tomorrow the alarm will ring again and I will roll over to steal another minute, just this time no one will be there to say goodbye to, no dog to get upset over the door slam and I'll probably grab my phone and check to see my friends Twitter and Facebook statuses that today talked about remembering but tomorrow will be back to the weather, happy birthday's, their kids, their home, what they are eating and other whimsical thoughts.
2 comments:
Great post Victor!
WOW....
Post a Comment