September 11 2001
Like most of the rest of America, I have my fair share of stories from the days following September 11, 2001. I had moved to the NYC area in August 2001, and had really only just settled into my cushy Army desk job when the attack occurred.
I remember the engineers in the next cube over from me watching it on their computer. I remember watching the second plane hit with them. As the building burned, and they talked about the number of people in those buildings, I desperately tried to think of some way to get those people out. I thought of the helicopters on base and went to my boss to ask if they could be used. He told me the grim facts about helicopters and buildings. He also told me that they would probably be useless by the time they got there. He was right, the buildings collapsed long before they would have been of use.
I got sent home, where I tried to make sense of it all. I remember calling my family and telling them I was ok. Looking back, I guess I was lucky I got through. I remember driving like a mad man straight home. I remember thinking I should turn around and do something. I remember being afraid.
I got home and ate half a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, as I watched the news of only a few dozen miles away. Somehow, the sweet cream knocked me out and I fell asleep on my floor in front of the TV. Yes, I fell asleep on September 11.
I woke up a few hours later and was still trying to take it all in. (Me and everyone else). However, I couldn’t stay home any more, so I got in my car and drove straight for NYC.
Along the way, I stopped at two fire stations, a rescue squad, a hospital, and a police station. No one wanted my help. They told me to go home. I had already given blood, a few days before, so I couldn’t even do that. I drove and watched what was left of the building burn and smolder.
I don’t think I will ever forget the looks on people’s faces as I drove in that day. I was helpless and very much alone.
As darkness fell, I drove towards my little apartment. I was emotional and I cried as I saw hundreds of people carrying lit candles along the side of the road. Somewhere in a little Hispanic district I found a place to park, and I joined a small gathering in a prayer for the living, for the dead, and for those caught somewhere in-between.
It was a hard night.
The next day we were told to stay home, so I went to the laundry mat to try and bring back some normalcy. My other choice was to try and find somewhere to volunteer, but the radio said that they were still turning people away, so I held my breath and went and did my laundry. A young woman was there (upset of course)… A crying child... We watched the plane crash into that building again and again and again. Someone in the place had seen people jump from those buildings. Someone else had lost family yesterday. I turned off the television and said we didn’t need this. I don’t remember what else we talked about, but we were all just shells.
I returned to work the next day. Security was a nightmare. They weren’t prepared to shut the base tight. They weren’t prepared to check every car for a bomb. It was eerie sitting in a car thinking that the car in front of you might blow up. To highlight that fact, one of the cars had overheated and was steaming at the side of the road.
When I got back into work, they were asking for volunteers. They needed more people checking cars at the gates. I was an intern with few responsibilities, so I stepped right up. My cubicle mate did the same, but he fell in the ditch the first day and twisted his ankle.
My boss who had filled out my accident report when I accidentally drank bleach, now had to fill out one for the volunteer who broke his ankle checking cars for bombs.
All of the volunteers had to get up at like 4 am to make sure that they were there by six. I was no exception, but I was not made to get up so early. It was rough… rough in many ways.
Did they issue us M16’s? How about pistols? No. We were the volunteers who fell in ditches periodically and got hurt. We were lucky they let us volunteer. Our job was to look under their hoods, in their gas tanks, under their seats, in their trunk, in the engine, and other places. Did we know what to look for? No. Basically, they told us to look for something suspicious, check ID’s, and to keep the cars moving. I suspect many of us wouldn’t know a bomb if it bit us. Myself included.
There were some touchy moments, but no one obviously got shot. In one instance, a van full of Russians showed up at the gate. They spoke zero English and had a box marked radioactive in the back. It was just a Geiger counter, but was one of those surreal moments.
I also remember looking in this one engineer’s car. Under his passenger seat was a metal box with a wire running straight to the engine block. I looked at him. I looked at the box. I looked at the wire. Recognition dawned on the driver and he went no… no… no…. MP3 player… MP3…. What would I have done if it wasn’t.
There was another surreal moment that I want to share. The second or third week I was checking badges they asked me to check badges in the command building. It was supposed to be easy overtime. I was supposed to go there and just make sure that the big wigs who were having a meeting upstairs could get in. I said ok and went over for what was supposed to be a peaceful few hours. They gave me a walkie talkie for this one. I felt like I had moved up from cannon fodder to mall cop trainee.
About an hour into my duty, someone on the other end of the box said there was a fire in building one. I sat there like a bump on a log until I realized. I was in building one. I did a double take and then talked into the walkie talkie. Say again? There’s a fire in building one. I’m in building 1. Pull the fire alarm? What? PULL THE FIRE ALARM! So, I did, but I didn’t have the key to the front door, so when the big wigs left, their meeting not done, I had to hold the door, so they could go back if they needed to. After everyone left, I held the door as the firemen went into the building. It was very odd watching the firemen enter the building. I kept thinking about the world trade center and that fire. I stayed put. I held the door. Pretty soon they came out, and when the chief’s went back in. I checked every badge, just like I was supposed to. They had all come out, but I checked everyone just like I was supposed to.
I did the gate thing off and on for around three months. Rain… Shine…. Snow… Cold… Some weeks I did it twice a week, others more, others less. I met lots of neat people. The base got to know me. They got to know all of us. Often times people would bring us soup or glove packets or coffee. At some point, they issued us coats. I still have mine and unless they ask me for it, I am keeping it. I think I earned it.
For our efforts, each volunteer got a medal presented from the commander. It was my first real medal. With it came a letter addressed to Ms…. I didn’t care. I had my coat and had done it because I needed to. I felt guilty I hadn’t done more.
