we remember

Today, is a day for reflection.  It’s Tuesday, September 11, 2012.  Today, we reflect on Tuesday, September 11, 2001.

Today reminds me a lot of that day.  Sunny, warm, blue sky.  Calm.  Except today is probably going to remain calm.  Tuesday, September 11, 2001 was chaos.

I remember where I was.  2^nd hour. Choir.  Linda McEachran.  Buffalo Grove High School.  Mac always had the TV on as students entered the classroom.  Another teacher came running in telling us to switch over to CNN.  Judging by the look on this other woman’s face, Mac wasn’t going to say no.

Smoke.  That’s what I remember seeing first.  Lots of thick black smoke.  We sat and wondered what happened?  Never once thinking it was a terrorist attack, until we watch the second plane, live.  That’s when idle chatter in the classroom stopped.  We all sat down.

Mac didn’t turn the TV off.  Instead, the fire alarm went off.  We all had to evacuate.  2^nd hour choir consisted of Freshman through Seniors.  We were all thinking like children.  We are being bombed.  I remember thinking we’d never been prepared for a bombing.  Not like our parents had, with nuclear bomb drills.  We were evacuated, and brought around the back of the building, which was even more unusual.  I remember having a conversation with still to this day one of my best friends, about what was happening.  Something had to be happening in our area for them to evacuate us in this weird way.

We weren’t outside for too long, less than an hour, because it was still 2^nd hour when we got back inside.  As it turned out, someone had burned something in a chemistry lab.

The halls were practically silent in between 2^nd and 3^rd hour.  When I got to 3^rd hour, Dassonville, the quirky humanities teacher who made his own clothes, was wearing the pants with lobsters on them, frantically pacing, on his cell phone, trying to reach family and friends in New York.  His normally frantic, sporadic attitude was exaggerated that day, almost to the point of scary.

After 3^rd hour, teachers were instructed to continue with class as usual, which was bullshit.  Some teachers complied, other’s didn’t.  The rest of the day after that point is a blur.

I remember wanting to go home.  I remember getting home and being glued to the TV.  I don’t think we ate dinner that night.  I remember my boyfriend at the time had to work.  I remember calling him after work in tears, terrified that the draft would be reinstated and instead of college, he’d be going to war.  He assured me he’d find some way around it.

The days and weeks following held constant reminders.  All air travel was grounded.  My dad traveled a lot for business (and still does.)  I was very thankful that he was not out of town that day.  I worried for his safety for a long time after that, every time he got on an airplane.  A few years ago, a friend of mine’s mom told her story to me over dinner.  I don’t recall how we got on the topic, but her and her husband had been overseas, and were stuck in Europe for days.  They were on a cruise ship and could not get in touch with their daughters.  As she told me the story, about how they were routed through Europe to get home, her husband’s company getting them special accommodations and transportation, I just began to cry.  She said when they descended into Chicago, the pilot made an announcement that they’d be flying past the Sears Tower, and she remembered looking out the window at it.  She said when they landed, the customs officers just let them go.  They were all so happy to be home.

Air traffic was grounded in the US for four days.  On the fifth day, we had marching band practice.  I remember a plane flying overhead… the first plane we’d seen in days.  We all stopped, and looked up to the sky.  We had been rehearsing “God Bless America.”  To this day, that song still makes me cry.

Last year, I spent 9/11 at the Bears home opener.  I’ll never forget, people in the stands complaining that we didn’t “get” a flyover during the national anthem.  I couldn’t have disagreed more.  A flyover is not entertainment.  A flyover is a tribute.  We are constantly on high alert, and never in the green with terror threats.  I in no way shape or form wanted our service men and women leaving their military duties to fly over a football stadium.  Not that day.