9/11

It was like living through Orson Welles’ radio broadcast of The War of the Worlds in 1938.

On October 30 of that year The Mercury Theatre on the Air performed a special Halloween episode narrated by actor Orson Welles.  The premise of the story is that earth was being attacked by aliens.  Despite warnings to the contrary, millions of Americans thought the attack was real, setting off a panic the likes of which our country had never known. 

That is, until 12 years ago today.  

On 9/11/01 that same sense of panic ran through the hearts, minds of soles of every single American.  It was the day that temporarily brought the United States to its knees: The day the World Trade Center was destroyed by two Boeing 767 jets—one flying into each of the two towers—in an intricate terrorist attack, resulting in the loss of 2,753 lives and a cleanup and recovery effort that took eight months to complete. 

Americans all over the country were glued to their televisions as the events unfolded.  Many saw the second tower being hit by a jet on live television since it happened after the first tower had already been ablaze for almost an hour.  It was truly the modern-day version of The War of the Worlds.  Except in this version we never had a chance. 

Twelve years ago today I knew exactly where I was and what I was doing.  The only other event I can say the same about is the day JFK was shot.  On 9/11 I was at a Department Manager’s Conference at the JCPenney Distribution Center in Lenexa, Kansas.  A young woman abruptly rolled a cart into our meeting room with a television on top of it.  She plugged the television set into the wall, found the station she was looking for and left the room without saying a word.  Later I guessed to myself that perhaps she was too choked up to speak.  I know I was when I called Cindy (who was back in Atlanta) to check on her a few minutes after I saw the second tower struck by an airplane.  It’s hard to describe how I felt at that exact moment, but mortified, horrified, terrified, angry used in any combination would work just fine.  When I spoke with Cindy it was comforting knowing she was OK.  As she worked in the tallest building in Atlanta, her firm shut down for the rest of the day lest they be a target for a subsequent attack.  My conference was cancelled and my companions and I returned to our hotel, only to see the gas station around the corner with a line of cars all the way around the block lining up to buy gas.  Gas priced at $4.99 per gallon, I might add.  (Isn’t it comforting to know that your fellow Americans are still prone to capitalizing on disasters?  Later in the day I would see this exact same gas station on NATIONAL TELEVISION along with the commentary about how many businesses were gauging customers in the aftermath of this disaster and were being told to cease and desist by the federal government.  From my perspective these American citizen-gauging companies got off with a hand slap when an ass kicking was more appropriate.)        

My fellow conference attendees and I were stranded at the hotel (or more precisely, the hotel lounge) for the next two days as a no-flight mandate across the nation was in effect.  It was the only time in my 24 years with JCPenney that the per diem limit for travel expenses was waived.  Looking back, it might have been less expensive to the company for me to take a taxi from Olathe, Kansas to Atlanta, Georgia than it was to pay for my bar tab.  But I wasn’t complaining.  Hell, I was barely coherent.  After all, we were all living through a modern-day version of War of the Worlds.  

    

Twelve years later, I remember 9/11 (the only date that can stand on its own merit without mention of the year) as the day a Nation reminded itself that no setback, no tragedy, no disaster and most of all NO ONE could keep it down for long.  I guess the word I’m looking for here is resilient.    

God Bless America.