On Tuesday, September 11, 2001, I began the day getting my kids ready for school. We never had the TV on in the morning so I was surprised by a call from my mother-in-law asking me what was going on in New York. My first response was “how should I know?” Then she said something weird was happening and her main concern was that her son (aka my husband) was in New York on a business trip.
I turned on the TV to hear Brian Williams saying that there was a situation unfolding at the World Trade Center. It sounded like a small plane had crashed into one of the towers. I called back my mother-in-law and said that I was sure he was ok — he wasn’t anywhere near downtown Manhattan.
I finished getting the kids ready for school, not sharing any worries about their dad. When I got to my son’s preschool, there were handwritten signs in all the classroom windows saying “please don’t talk about what’s happening in NY in front of the kids.”
After drop-off I went home and called my husband. No answer. This was before smart phones.
Many hours later, he called. He and others had been having breakfast in SoHo when they heard sirens. Annoyed, they walked over to Broadway, where all they could make out through the smoke was half a tower. They headed back to their hotel in Midtown. By the time they arrived, both towers had fallen.
They tried to donate blood but found there was no need since there were very few injured. He spent a few days at a hotel watching CNN with other guests and eating in restaurants that were trying to use up all their food since they had no local patrons.
We spent the rest of the week figuring out how to get my husband home. By Friday I had worked out a plan that involved taking a train to Philadelphia followed by various other trains until he could get to a city where planes had started flying again. However, soon after it was announced that all US airspace would open on Saturday and so he was able to fly back.
We were so happy to see him when he arrived home. Our friends had a pool party later that day to divert the kids and allow the adults to connect, mourn and consider what had just happened to our country.
Kathi King
Santa Barbara