14th Anniversary of 9/11

I felt strongly to share my limited New York experience, both pre- and post-9/11. We will never forget!

Tied to a Desk Working through College

To help pay for college I worked as a bilingual bill collector, which is a story (or many) in itself. My employer covered full tuition as long as I maintained at least a C average. Not hard to do! Part of working in collections means being tethered all day via an umbilical cord hooking the headset to the phone on the desk.

I first started working full time while going to school part-time and then after realizing that getting a college degree would take almost literally “forever” I switched to part-time work and a full-time schedule. It took me 5 years to get my BA degree and I started looking for a new position with my same employer. After fruitlessly searching for almost 2 years, I realized that I’d have to part ways with my employer.

Unfortunately, we were the “Spanish queue”, and Yes, that happens.

Traveling for Work

My main goal in getting a new job was to get one away from a desk. Finally, an opportunity came and I moved from out West down to Texas for a job that would require me to travel.  The initial job I took at the company appeared to have less travel than was promised and so I was lucky to be able to assist another department where travel was the norm.

From September 2000 through October 2002, I was on the road between 90-95% of the time. The job wasn’t hard, but the travel was very rewarding. I’ll have to share more of those stories later.

Up until this job, I had traveled with my family for summer family vacations but now I would be doing it as a professional. Whereas before, most of my travel destinations and activities were chosen for me, at this job I would mostly be on my own. Free to see whatever I wanted to see after completing the day’s work.

My supervisor gave us some say in where we went. If we hadn’t been to a particular city or state, or had family in a specific location, he would take that into consideration when assigning us jobs.

New York City

The opportunity came to go to New York. I had never been. It wasn’t necessarily high on my list, but now that I had the opportunity to go, I was all in.

On Monday December 4, 2000, I flew from IAH to ATL and then from ATL to LGA. The city was electric: the massive buildings, the noise, the cabs, the throngs of people.  I loved it as soon as I exited the subway and found myself in the mix of it all.

During the day I worked, but as soon as work was over I was out in the city checking things out. By this time of year it got darker earlier and it had already snowed. I hated the cold, in spite of growing up in Utah, but this was worth it. The only thing that wasn’t worth it was having to lug around a laptop with me everywhere as my hotel was too far away to have to leave the client site, drop off my stuff in the hotel, and then hit the city. But it was a minor convenience worth having.

I checked out Central Park West to see if I could see Bono or other celebrities who were rumored to live there. I walked through Times Square. I saw “Miss Saigon” and “Les Miserables”. Both are excellent!! I also hit up Wall Street, Grand Central Station.

Irving Plaza and U2

I made my way to the Rockefeller Center and was taking photos of the lights and trees when someone asked if I wanted to actually be in one of my photos. Of course! The guy was a Brazilian who had gotten off work and was waiting for friends.

We got talking and I tried to speak some of the Brazilian Portuguese that I remembered from my trip there back in 1996. Not good!

He asked how long I had been in town and invited me to hang out with him and his friends. It was then that my “minor” convenience laptop became a “major” convenience. I had no where to leave it. I think he may have suggested I go put it in a locker in a subway station, but I nixed that pretty quick. Not only would I not do that with my own laptop, but this was a work laptop, with highly classified information. No, not really, but it wasn’t worth the risk of leaving it somewhere in a huge city when I might not be able to go back and find it.

Somewhere along the way, either on the plane or on the TV or radio or at the client site, I heard U2 was going to be giving a free concert at Irving Plaza. I mentioned this to my new-found friend and we start walking from Rockefeller toward Irving Plaza. I don’t recall how long he had been in New York but he wasn’t familiar with Irving Plaza. After walking for several blocks which is tiring especially with a now-extremely burdensome laptop that seemingly got heavier by the minute, we decided to take the subway.

In retrospect that was a great move since the distance was 2.0 miles of walking. Granted, that’s not that far, but I had already been on the streets for awhile, in dress shoes, and now with a laptop that was pushing 50 pounds.

Here’s the course from Rockefeller to Irving.

We showed up to Irving Plaza and it was chaos! Equipment trucks all over. Tons of fans wanting to get in to who knows where and none of the buildings seemed to have markings on them. Satellite dishes all over the place. It was awesome.

We were at the back of a long line to nowhere. It looked hopeless. Even if we got in, what would I do with the laptop? Wait, what was I thinking. This is U2! Screw the laptop.

Between the people and the equipment trailers was a walkway for U2’s handlers. Right behind the barrier was a girl and her friend and then me and the Brazilian. A handler was walking by, stopped, turned to the girls and gave them access passes. It was insane! That could have been me!

It wasn’t my luck and soon thereafter the sound of screams became deafening as U2 exited a trailer, walked down the sidewalk, walked up the stairs, waved to the fans, and entered. I was jealous! Up to this point I had only seen U2 one time. Far too few! I wanted/needed more. Hopefully that time would come (and it would. More on that later).

Twin Towers

Throughout the evening my friend had been trying to get in contact with his lost friends. They wouldn’t answer or return his calls. That’s when he suggested that maybe we go down and meet them. “Where is it?” I asked. It’s on one of the upper floors of the Twin Towers. Wow! That sounds cool.

We got on another subway and headed down there. We got off at our exit, walked around some tunnels and exited into the plaza. It was enormous. Exhilarating.

He kept dialing his friends. Nothing. He mentioned he needed them because they had the passes/tickets to get in.

This is where I distinctly remember saying “Don’t worry, there’s always next time.”

I had a feeling come over me that seemed to indicate “there won’t be a next time”. I had no idea what it meant but I remember feeling “odd”. Not scared. Not like I would die. I just figured that maybe this would be my only chance to ever go to New York. This was Tuesday December 5, 2000.

9/11

Fast forward 280 days later to Tuesday 09/11/01 and I would come to realize exactly what that would mean. I would never again have the opportunity to enter the Twin Towers or go up to the observation deck.

We all know what happened. Al-Qaeda terrorists hijacked four airplanes back east, crashing two of them into the Twin Towers.

I was at home in the shower that morning. An announcement came on the radio mentioning a plane flew into the Twin Towers. I had recalled when I was much younger my sister mentioning a small plane crashed into it in the fog. I thought perhaps it was the anniversary.

I finished showering and while dressing walked into the front room and turned on the TV.

 

Shock. Horror. Panic.

I couldn’t help but cry! It was so sad. Smoke. Fire. Falling bodies. Panic in the streets. A true “what the hell” moment and wondering if this was the end of the world. Then the second plane hit. I finished dressing and sat riveted to the TV. I was late to work. I didn’t care. Nothing seemed to matter then. Nothing made sense.

I finally made it into work. I don’t think much “work” got done that day. At our company. Anywhere.

What did this all mean? Who would do this? Who could do this? How could they? Why?

None of the co-workers in our groups were out on trips as we were having our yearly State of the Company meetings.

The trip I was going to be on next was to be on Sat. 9/15/01 to England followed by a one-week vacation in Ireland. Unfortunately it was pushed back. Who cared at this point, though. It could wait. So many were suffering, how could I think about my personal vacation.

The world that I grew up with would never be the same.

On to Europe

Air travel was a mess for awhile. I finally made it to England and Ireland and truth be told, I was a little nervous. Anything was possible now. I went and returned without incident, although my mom (like all mothers do) worried for my safety while I was abroad.

Return to New York

On October 22, 2001, just 41 days after the attack, I finally made it back to New York. I wanted to go to Ground Zero. Why? Not sure. To see what was left of what I never got to see? To pay my respects? To get perspective? For hope and healing?

The area was still a mess. The buildings that weren’t destroyed acted as a barrier around Ground Zero. Police tape and boards blocked people from getting closer. Here and there between fences, you could see jagged, twisted metal in the night, the lights of equipment bouncing off it eerily.

It also smelled down there. I had lived in the Dominican Republic and when animals died on the side of the road, people would throw trash and leaves on top until a nice pile was made. Once it was high enough someone would set fire to it. It stuck. I’d never smelled anything like it. My guess is it was burnt hair and flesh.

Ground Zero smelled exactly like that: death. I’m sure there were other elements at play, but it was very reminiscent of burning flesh.

It pained me all over again. The large amounts of people that would never be found. Bodies that wouldn’t be able to be buried. Flyers and mementos were found all over, taped, glued, pasted to anyone that would hold them. Signs showing photos of loved ones that were still missing. People still hoping that somehow they escaped, that they’d return home. They wouldn’t.

I cried again. I could only imagine what the people were going through that actually knew someone who died there. And then to realize that some people knew lots of people from there. I was a mess and I had no real connection with anyone there. I only saw what the media put out. Boy, these people surely had to be suffering.

Now What?

Well, 14 years have passed since that horrible day. A lot has changed and sometimes it seems like little has changed. The world is still a turbulent place. There’s still a lot of hate, but there’s also a lot of hope. I still believe very much that the world is a good place. There are lots of great people doing great things every day.

We shouldn’t forget what happened. If we do, it will repeat itself in some way, shape, or form.

We must look forward to a brighter tomorrow at all costs. We must be kinder to each other, in spite of our differences. We can’t hate. We can disagree, but we can’t hate.