September 11th 2001 A Reflection

Below is a personal recollection of the initial moments of September 11, 2001. My wife and I were both on active duty, stationed at Travis AFB, California. I wrote this on the 1st anniversary of the cowardly attack on the US. It was my reflection on a most troublesome time. While I intend on re-running this on Sept 11th this year I decided that this Memorial Day weekend was an appropriate time to post this personal essay. Feel free to comment and please direct anyone you like here to the site to read the thoughts of one patriot, one airman as he looks back on one of the darkest days in US history.

On September 11, 2001 my alarm went off at 0545 just like any other day. Like any other day I did not turn on the television or radio. The love I have for my wife and daughter prevented me from doing anything that may wake her or my little angel prematurely on their day off. I went through my normal routine. I showered, shaved and donned my crisply ironed uniform and spit shined boots just as I had done for nearly 7 years. I left the house in good spirits.
Mentally, I was prepared to teach my M-16 class on that fateful Tuesday. While driving to work I was listening to the radio just as I did every morning. At approximately a quarter until seven the radio DJ’s cut into the song and announced that a plane had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers. Initially I was horrified at the thought. Then I started to think that was simply inconceivable and the DJ’s (known for horseplay) must be playing some sort of very sick joke. As I made the turn onto the road leading into the back gate at Travis AFB, CA I noticed something peculiar. Traffic was backed up a great deal. Was it an accident I thought? I didn’t see anything in the road up ahead. Was something wrong on base? Then the fear hit home. The radio DJ’s weren’t joking; we were under attack. Quickly I changed the radio to another station to verify the horrifying news, then another and another. I must have checked every single FM station that I could tune in. Moments later the radio announced that a second plane had struck the other tower. I was getting the information in bits and pieces from numerous radio stations. Later I heard another plane crashed into the pentagon. Moments later they announced that one of the WTC towers had collapsed. Initial casualty estimates were in the tens of thousands. As I sat there in traffic, eager to get to my unit where I could perform my duties as a Security Forces member, I cried. The tears flowed almost uncontrollably. The knot in my throat felt the size of Texas. It was possible that I may have lost thousands of my brothers and sisters, my fellow Americans. I thought about my wife and daughter. I thought about how terrible it would be to be a family member of someone who worked in those buildings.
I immediately began working on a plan to have my daughter picked up by grandma so that my wife, also a Security Forces member, and I could do what we do best, serve this great nation. I knew that long arduous shifts were in our future.

Slowly traffic cleared. As I made my way through the gate I stopped to talk to a fellow SF member, he was in tears. He was instructed to allow only active duty military onto the installation. Numerous “non-essential” personnel were sent home. He feared for his family that lived in the San Francisco area.
As I crept in traffic closer to my squadron I noticed an unfamiliar sound. Something I had never heard living and working so close to the airfield. Silence. Suddenly there was no air traffic. No planes were landing. Nothing was taking off or taxiing.

As I rounded the corner to my unit, I didn’t bother to stop at my office, without hesitation I drove on to the armory. I was certain that I would be armed to perform my primary duties as a Defender, air base defense. I was anxious to get intel, find out what the hell was going on. Who attacked us, why? I had so many questions.

As soon as I arrived at the armory I was told to call my wife. Everyone was being recalled to duty. The phone rang for what felt like an hour and when my wife answered, it took her a moment to realize what I was saying. After the initial shock and likely fear had a moment to settle she informed me she, “was on her way.” On her way to work she dropped our daughter off at the Child Development Center (day care) and rushed on to the armory to draw her weapon and perform her duties.

Initially we were told that I would be working a 12-hour day and she would be working a 12-hour night. Since we had no idea how many consecutive days we would be working and what we would do for our daughter, as daycare was only good until 6pm we called Grandma to the rescue. Grandma and Grandpa drove over 100 miles and picked up our little girl from daycare. They took her back to relative safety in a small town in northern California. My wife and I knew she was in great hands. With our daughter taken care of we could focus on the task at hand.

The response of the American people was amazing. Each day after my wife and I settled in to the routine, if you can call it that, we drove to work and saw literally hundreds if not thousands of Americans all along the roads leading to the base waving flags and lighting candles. Horns honked, people waved and the gratitude was unbelievable.

Thanks… Initially the appreciation of America was a huge uplift. It kept me going when I felt totally exhausted. It went on day after day after day. Then one day as I was walking to my house from my car, I passed my neighbor. I had passed this man a million times and he had never said as much as hello or how are you. He stopped me and told me thank you. He went on to elaborate on how proud he was of the military and how grateful he was for, “those in uniform”. I told him thank you and headed home.

Over the next several days this trend continued. If I stopped in a gas station in uniform someone stopped me and said thank you. It actually got to the point where I would not go to a public place in uniform (other than work). I started to become angered over the appreciation of strangers. I asked myself why is it now that all of these people are grateful, but on 10 September they barely acknowledged me when I walked by. For a few days I milled this over in my head. Should I feel good for all of the admiration, or should I be spiteful that it took an attack on American soil to wake up certain segments of our society. Finally I settled into the idea that these people were thankful even before the attacks they just chose to express it more after.

While I can’t say how long we worked or how different the duties became I can say the camaraderie of the troops was something that I will never forget. I have been deployed several times. I have been to hostile fire zones, and the feeling here in the states was the most memorable.

Terrorists plotted and enacted a cowardly attack on U.S. soil. Their hatred for our freedoms were brought to the public eye in a most brutal way. America lost more than 3,000 wonderful people that day but Lady Liberty regained her resolve. To this day a full year after the attacks on the trade center and the pentagon, flags still fly high. There are more American flags flying today than there were before the attacks. You see flags on poles, in windows; from stickers to banners they are everywhere. Old Glory, the symbol of American patriotism and resolve can be seen more places today than ever before. All the terrorists did was remind Americans just how precious our freedoms are and just how important our military is.

While the attack was a tragedy I believe it will make The United States and even better, stronger place to live and serve.

As Todd Beamer said aboard flight 93, Just before whipping some terrorist ass, “Let’s Roll!”

Posted by SlagleRock at May 29, 2004 10:05 PM