Share your memories of Sept. 11, 2011

I will never forget hearing the first report on NPR as I drove to the office that morning. Like so many, I spent the day following news reports and trying to process what had occurred and what it meant for our country (and marveling at the numerous acts of heroism in the midst of this tragedy). I remember looking at the list of tenants of the World Trade Center to identify the law firms that had offices there – while I didn’t have direct connections to any of them, just seeing their names made it more personal to me.

This was the Pearl Harbor event of our generation. My secretary burst in and told me to turn on the television set in my office. That was just before the second World Trade Center tower was struck. My son was flying a U.S. Army UH-60 helicopter that morning and was told to immediately ground the aircraft in a field near Fort Rucker, AL. My future son-in-law's commercial flight from Europe was diverted to Labrador. I did little else, as I recall, but follow the news and talk on the phone intermittently to my wife and daughter. We believed that our lives would be forever changed, and unfortunately that prediction has held true.

News broke on the radio that the second tower had been hit as I was parking at Cumberland for the blue line ride to the Daley Center. At the Courthouse, a security agent told me that the Pentagon had been hit. I became very aware at that point how close Sears Tower seemed to loom over the skyline. I stepped off the elevator on the 25th floor only to find it deserted, except for one bailiff who told me to go back down because the building was being closed.
I called my father after getting back to my car, and I asked about the fires. He told me, “they’re gone.” At first, I felt relieved as I thought he meant the fires were out, but he repeated, “the towers - they’re gone.” I sat there stunned for awhile before starting the car, and although I know I had the radio on for the ride back to the office, I do not remember any of the news reports that morning.

As I pulled up to the dry cleaner's drive-up window the attendant alerted me to the first plane hitting the Trade Center. I turned on the radio: they were speculating about terrorism. Rather than continue to work I returned home to watch news of what was happening. Not long after arriving home the second plane hit. It took my breath away, then quietly enraged me. My oldest son worked in Washington, DC and lived in Arlington, VA, within view of the Pentagon. I called him to urge caution and worried of what might yet come. When I saw people jumping from one of the towers my eyes filled with tears. When the first tower collapsed I raised the Stars & Stripes while wishing I was still in the service. I left the flag up for months, until it became tattered, then saved it for my grandchildren with some newspapers, knowing the day would always be remembered, long after I am gone.

I was in St. Petersburg, Florida, attending a conference. Upon my return to the hotel from breakfast, I observed a number of people gathered around the small hotel lobby TV, not a word was spoken. The TV showed smoke billowing from one of the towers of the World Trade Center and the news commentator was conjecturing as to what had happened. While standing there watching, the second tower exploded and began burning. As a larger crowd began to collect in the lobby, the hotel staff set up a large projection TV in the main ballroom where people were allowed to sit and view what was happening. Everyone appeared to be in shock and preferred viewing what was going on with the company of others rather than alone.

With this being a national conference, there were a number of attendees from New York and Washington D.C. Everyone was attempting to assist and comfort each other (e.g., using cellphones to allow people to try to contact friends & family).

My return flight to Champaign, Illinois, was scheduled for late afternoon on September 11th. However, with the closure of US airspace and the cancellation of all flights, I (and many of my colleagues) were stranded in Florida. The hotel graciously allowed each person to extend his/her stay that night at no additional charge and went out of their way to ensure all guests were taken care of. With all flights still grounded on the 12th and no foreseeable re-opening of US airspace, Enterprise allowed me to retain the car I had been using during the conference, and drive it to Champaign at no additional charge.

What I observed during this time was Americans helping Americans. Although America may have been attacked, the American spirit was still alive and well.

I considered a reflection on my thoughts of that day, but then thought that what might be most meaningful, at least for me, would be to look, but not stare, at that day's events, and reflect on where I am now since that day. Besides being a veteran, I am now a retired colonel in the Unitesd State Army. And I am free. I have remarried, my children have graduated from college, obtained master's degrees and are working hard at jobs which their educations have prepared them for. And I am free. I have traveled freely in this great country, attending conferences both of a law-related and military nature, and have been privileged to continue to learn and meet some incredible people. And I am free. My elected representatives in Springfield and Washington have sometimes enacted measures of great benefit to their constituents, sometimes of questionable benefit or sense, but I am free. My income has generally increased while my investments have bobbed like a cork in the water, but I am free. One lesson I learned in southwest Asia is that when death calls neither Tom Hanks, John Wayne, Martin Sheen nor any studio orchestra can be found. It comes without fanfare, sometimes without notice, but can never be mistaken. And I am free. Those who died, those who ran in while others fled, those who cried over their losses and those who have worn the flag on their right sleeves since that day all are heros. And all of them and all they and countless others have done since September 11, 2001 have helped insure that we are free.

I have a vivid memory of September 11, 2001. I was scheduled for a pre-trial conference before Judge Adrianne Geary in the Domestic Relations Division that morning. As I drove eastbound on the Kennedy expressway towards the Daley Center, my sister called me on my cell phone about 8:45 a.m. CST and said frantically, “have you seen the news…a plane flew into the World Trade Center – I am watching Matt Lauer right now…” My response was that of being confused and concerned since all my relatives (except siblings) live in NYC.
I arrived at the Daley Center for the pretrial and at 9:15 a.m. and I was staring at the Sears Tower from the most beautiful chambers in the city (30th Floor, southwest corner) thinking….”what are we doing here, no one can focus” and just then, deputies from the Cook County Sheriff’s office ordered us off the floor indicating that the Daley Center was closing. Needless to say, we could not leave fast enough. Walking out of the Daley Center and to the parking garage a couple of blocks away I encountered many colleagues and just said “Court’s closed, don’t even bother, everyone is leaving the City”. And that they did. It was a massive exodus from the city.
Ironically, another sister, employed at United Airlines contacted me, again unsure and frightened wondering where certain UAL flights were in the sky as word of missing aircraft spreading like wildfire in her industry. I didn’t know the significance of that until later that day.
I drove back to my office and eventually gained comfort from office staff and loved ones connecting and commiserating over the morning’s events as they unfolded. We all gathered together at a local restaurant and stared speechless and horrified at the TV sets while Tower Two came crashing to the ground hours later, along with the news of the Pentagon and Flight 93.
I have been to Ground Zero three times in the past decade and have visited Shanksville, PA. I was and continue to be inspired by the will of those people who suffered immeasurably by the events of 9/11.