My husband and I watched from a sunny room on the Pasquatank River in Elizabeth City, North Carolina. I was pregnant with our third child and we lived, quite literally, at the end of the Air Station runway. He put on his uniform and drove to work. I sat in shock in the sunny silence. Even our toddlers were quiet that day. No planes flew over our house.
Where were you that life-changing day? I would love to hear your story. In telling our stories we remember the feeling of the day, the gut-deep fear that we all felt. In telling our stories the memory of those who lost their lives, and the way they lost them, lives on.
Share in the comments below. I'd love to hear.
Never forget. 9-11-01.
Billy was on duty at the Air Station in Maine. He called on me in the morning, just after I awoke, and said, "Have you been watching TV?" I hadn't. He said "TWO planes crashed into the Trade Towers". "So it wasn't an accident" was my reply. The rest of the day was spent with my military neighbors, in awe, discussing who could have done this, why, and so forth...while intermittently checking the TV to watch the horrendous day unfold. That night our Navy Spouses' Club had an emergency meeting to discuss helping anyone out who may have been linked in some way by family to the Twin Towers or Pentagon attacks (there were 2 closely affected, one lost an Uncle and the CO and his wife lost a close friend) and what this would possibly mean from here on out for our spouses' and deployments. A very surreal day. We found out later on that the mastermind, lead terrorist (Atta) had actually been in our town, taking photos of our military base, drinking beer at our local bar (Billy's cousin served him). Crazy.
ReplyDeleteCarrie, that's wild. The Air Station we were at wouldn't let anyone on the base without a military ID for several weeks, (months?) so the spouse's didn't get together at all. I had wonderful neighbours though, who helped out and kept me sane.
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