What were you doing that tragic day?
I don't think I'll ever forget that day, September 11, 2001. It's forever etched in my mind. It was a Tuesday that will always be, for my generation, my December 7, 1941.
I was a young 26 year old, living in El Cajon, California (just outside San Diego). I was in my seventh year of my enlistment in the United States Navy. I worked second shift at that time. I was the work center night shift (navy talk for second shift) Production Supervisor, as well as the work center Collateral Duty Inspector (basically Quality Assurance). At that time I was becoming a seasoned Aviation Electronics Technician Second Class (AT2 / E-5 rank) and close to being the LPO (Leading Petty Officer) of the shop. This, in retrospect, was not too common at NASNI AIMD (Naval Air Station North Island Aircraft Intermediate Maintenance Detachment).
I was fortunate to be where I was, considering two years prior I was stationed in Yokosuka, Japan. I was very content to be back in the States, even though I thoroughly enjoyed my time there. I had just paid off my car ('94 Honda Accord LX) in August. And other than a failed relationship at that time, I was otherwise happy in my life. That was until I received my first of many phone calls that morning.
I was awaken that Tuesday morning by a phone call from, my once girlfriend, Danielle. I had fallen asleep on my sectional couch early that morning and was having a hard time getting to the phone. As I answered the phone, no sooner than saying hello, she was barking orders for me to turn on the TV to CNN. I did so, slowly trying to gather myself and focus on what I was watching.
There was a news report that possibly a small plane had crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center. As I watched, seeing the North Tower smoking, the next thing I saw still haunts my memory and dreams. On live TV, as I sat glued to the television, the second plane (United Flight 175 from Boston) hit the South Tower. Keeping in mind, this was 6:03 a.m. California time (9:03 a.m. New York). I just couldn't believe what I was watching. Did I actually see what had transpired? I was without words. I remember telling Danielle, that “this has to be a dream...I gotta go.” I turned the TV off and proceeded to lie back down and go to sleep.
Of course, I never went back to sleep. I was compelled to turn the TV back on. More reports were coming in that the Pentagon had been hit as well. What the hell is going on!?! That continued to scream in my head. Am I witnessing a 'Pearl Harbor' style attack in New York and at the Pentagon? As I sat there transfixed to the television...the South Tower collapsed. Only an hour after being hit, I watched it just fall. Like it was blown and collapsed, when demolishing a building to make room for something new in its place. Approximately thirty minutes later, the North Tower followed suite. By this time, reports were just starting to come in that a fourth plane had gone down in Pennsylvania. Later known as United Flight 93, the heroic flight 93.
By this time, I was numb and my training began to kick in and take over. I immediately called into my shop on base. In an effort to find out as much as possible, as to what was needed from me. I was told to come in. Security was tight on base at that point, so I should come in now. That was the biggest cluster-fuck I have ever seen.
Every single car, one by one, was thoroughly searched before it was allowed on base. It took me nine hours in traffic before I finally got onto base in Coronado, California (Naval Air Station North Island). It was a warm day and on top of that my radiator was low on coolant, and I had to run my heater just to keep my car from overheating. I'm so glad I had a full tank of gas that day.
Many other details happened that day. I could write an autobiography of my life that day, and it would be a small novel. So, I'll spare everyone from reading too lengthy of an entry. However, I will give a few insights on my life since that day.
From October to December of 2001, I was assigned as Production Supervisor of the entire work center and had to assist the U.S.S. Kitty Hawk (CV 63) in operations with Afghanistan. Our work center was tasked with keeping all avionics (that we were responsible in fixing) up and running in every SH-60F Sea Hawk on board the Kitty (or "Shitty Kitty" as it was commonly named, while I was stationed aboard it in Japan). Consequently, two things happened, one that forever changed my life, to me directly from working those months and long hour days (up to 15 a day).
The first being that I received a Navy and Marine Corps Achievement Medal (or NAM) for maintaining a zero backlog of high priority repairs (what the Navy calls EXREPS). I was responsible for decreasing the average repair turn around time by 65%, from twenty seven days to less than ten. This meant that as Production Supervisor, I was responsible for keeping the squadrons running at 100%.
Second, after those hard months of work, I contracted a viral infection which was the direct cause to me developing type one diabetes. The doctors don't know how exactly how I got the virus, but basically, it was like a cold. My immune system couldn't tell the difference between the virus and the cells in my pancreas. So, it killed them both off and presto...nothing to make insulin.
After being diagnosed in February 2002, the following January I was medically retired from the Navy. Serving two months shy of nine good years. It was the best, worst, exciting, and rewarding years of my life to date.
Do I have regrets? Do I wish that day never happened? Do I wish my life ended up different? The answer: no, yes, and no. No, I don't regret anything. Of course, yes, I wish that day never happened. However, that day has lead to the answer to the final question. I don't wish my life ended up different. That fateful day of September 11th, may be why I have diabetes. It may be why I have been somewhat depressed since that time. And it may be why I struggle to maintain my health, with sometimes great pain. But whatever misfortune I live with or pain I live with, it will never compare to those individuals who lost love ones on 9/11. Besides, if things were different, I might not have the love of my life, my son. That is the most significant happiness I received, which is the direct result of...that day.
-P. Grimsley
I encourage anyone that reads this, who is touched by what they read, to refer this blog to any of their friends to read and comment on. Also, I would love to see others write about their experiences of that day (9/11).
