On September 11th

7 years ago today. A Tuesday.

I was 36 weeks pregnant. Lumbering and uncomfortable as I boarded the 7:22 a.m. commuter rail bound for my job at a law firm in Boston. Arrived at work after 8.

Was chatting on the phone with a friend, discussing our baby showers that had both taken place that weekend. Mine on Saturday, hers on Sunday (our poor collective friends!) while our hubbies frollicked in New York City at a Yanks/Sox game. One of my friends from Florida had flown up for my shower. She flew out of Logan Airport in Boston on Monday morning.

I was interrupted from my conversation when a co-worker peeked her head in and said, "Your husband is on my line. Apparently, he needs to talk to you." So I said goodbye to my friend (who was home, but didn't have her TV on) and got on the line with Hubby.

"Do you have your computer on?" he asked breathlessly.

"No. I just got here and was on the phone with Mary. Why? What's up?"

"A plane crashed into the World Trade Center! They don't know many details yet though. TURN ON YOUR COMPUTER!"

Slowly the buzz began to spread on my 21st floor. We were directed into a conference room to watch the breaking news on a projection screen.

That was when I saw the second plane hit.

Shortly after, a firm-wide e-mail was delivered. Our building would be closing at 10 a.m. We were all to evacuate immediately.

I called Hubby back. (Meanwhile he had been frantically trying to call me. The firm's phone lines were being inundated.) Hubby was nervous that they were going to shut down all public transportation. That I wouldn't be able to get out of the city of Boston. 9 months pregnant.

My friend Michelle (who was also working in Boston at the time) and I miraculously got through to each other via our cell phones. We met downtown, so we could walk to the train station together.

It was eerie. Practically everyone in downtown Boston had been evacuated. The city streets were packed, yet it was oddly hushed. Everyone was rushing, furiously punching buttons on their cell phones, desperately trying to get a signal.

I tried to call Hubby from the train station to let him know what my meager train options were to get back home to Central Massachusetts. There was only one train headed towards home, yet it would only take me as far as Framingham, about a 45 minute drive, and not where I had parked my car that morning. But I couldn't get in touch with him. The lines were jammed.

So I waited until the last possible minute to board that train, worried that Hubby might already be driving into Boston to collect me; nervous that he wasn't, and that I indeed NEEDED to get on the train.

Finally, as the announcement was blaring, "Final boarding call!", Hubby and I connected. I SHOULD take the train, and he'd pick me up in Framingham.

As you can imagine, the train was packed. Every seat full, every aisle space occupied. But so silent. Someone kindly felt sorry for my swollen whale-ness and gave me a seat. I let a few strangers borrow my cell phone.

Everyone lost in their own thoughts. Fear, stifled but present. Uncertainty.

I spent the next three days on the couch in my "uniform" (you know, the only XL maternity clothes that fit), glued to the TV. Alternating between grief, disbelief and horror.

What kind of world was I bringing a child into?

Unsafe.

September 11, 2001. I will never forget.

[Re-posted from In the Trenches of Mommyhood 9/11/07.]

Comments

[Maddy]

Thank you.

[Emma kw]

WE don't "do" September 11th. My husband can't "do" September 11th. We tried, the first couple of years, but it was too difficult for him. Bad, bad memories, sounds. He was on the phone discussing a trade with his contact at Cantor Fitzgerald. He heard a loud noise. Voices screaming, yelling. Then nothing. Ever. Again. Gone . Forever.Guys he met with , in their offices, every other month. Sometimes lunch at Windows on the World. Trips to New York so regular he didn't think to tell the kids - just another day at work, although the commute was a bit longer. But they knew Dad went to the World Trade Center and had lunch on top of the world. That day, two children were at schools that thought it a good idea to tell them what had happened. Two children spent several hours not telling, not knowing if that day Dad had gone to New York.
We don't "do" September 11th. One still hears the voices, noises, silence. Two remember the fear of not knowing. And one of us remembers wanting to never let them leave the house ever again........still too painful.....

[mrs. q.]

Wow. It seems so long ago, and at the same time, I remember all the details of hearing that horrible news. My friend and coworker had a tiny TV in her cube, and there must have been ten people crammed in there, around the black and white, static image of the buildings in flames. I was more in disbelief; didn't fear for myself or feel like it "was so close", mainly because we were in a tiny town in southeastern massachusetts, but that's before I had two babies and cannot imagine that emotion now... I'm sure it would be shear panic, sadness, doom.