September 11th

In reflection this morning, I realized that I’ve never really documented September 11th in my own words. I feel like the events of that day have had a profound effect on who I am, so here is my raw account.

On the morning of September 11th, 2001, I was at work like any other morning. I was an account manager for Neovest, a company specializing in software performing technical analysis of the stock and commodities markets. This morning, I was on the phone with Darci, the office manager for a branch of Bright Trading, a nationwide day trading firm. I was helping her update all of her workstations with the latest version of our software. I was the first one in that day, starting at 6AM my time, 8AM eastern time. I had been on the phone with Darci for the better part of an hour when just a few minutes before 7AM, Darci said “Oh my God! Ted, are you watching the TV? A plane just crashed into the World Trade Center!” I stood up at my desk, and looked over my cubicle wall at the TV mounted on the wall, usually on and broadcasting CNBC. (We did this because we needed to be aware of what was happening in the markets when talking to our clients.) The TV had not been turned on yet that morning, so I covered the microphone on my headset and yelled out “Guys! Get the TV on! A plane just crashed into the World Trade Center!” I don’t remember who actually turned the TV on, but I finished my conversation with Darci and pulled my chair around to where the rest of my team was assembled, watching the events unfold.

We were watching and talking together, wondering aloud what could have possibly happened. We watched the replay several times, wondering if it had been a small passenger jet that had crashed. I remember us debating how likely it was that a pilot could make that kind of error. We also began to talk about our fortune as a company that our New York office had moved from the 82nd floor of Tower 1 just a week prior. One of our team, Andy, was out in New York that day to visit clients, and I remembered that he had planned to go into the city from our company apartment in Jersey City that morning. I thought about calling him, but decided against it, thinking that he had to be okay and that I would just be distracting him.

At 7:02AM we watched in disbelief as Flight 175 crashed into Tower 2. We had been joking around, wondering if anyone we knew had been hurt, and wondering what effect the first crash would have on the markets, but instantly we all fell silent. We zeroed in on the TV, watching and listening intently as the commentators were ordering a replay of the footage. I remember turning in horror as the replay clearly showed the second plane hit. I caught our IT Engineer’s eye as I turned around, and at that moment we both realized that this had been no accident. But we wanted to believe that it was some sort of fluke, some sort of grievous navigational error. We discussed the numbers of people that were involved. Something that amazes me to this day is the low number of casualties. There should have been close to 30,000 people there at work that morning. The stock market opens for trading at 9:30AM eastern time, and traders are generally in an hour before that.

We began to worry about Andy, and all of our other New York office based employees. At that time, we had 4 account managers, a technical analyst, and a couple of sales people based in New York. In addition, our VP of Sales was in town. The phone lines were jammed, so we resorted to Instant Messages and E-mail to communicate. Within a few minutes, we received a company-wide e-mail from our CEO letting us know that he had personally verified that everyone was safe. I can remember thinking over and over that this was like some sort of bad dream, or something out of a movie. All of the TV stations were saying the same things over and over again, but through the internet, we began to hear about other missing planes. Rumors abounded, but we sorted through them, trying to verify facts, the fear that other planes were heading to other targets being very real. Then, we saw footage of The Pentagon. This only intensified our efforts to obtain information on what in the hell was going on. Who was attacking us? Are there missiles in the air? Should I call family and tell them to… what? What would make them safe? What was the threat? And how is it possible that whatever client Jerry was talking to could be so utterly clueless as to what had happened that he would still want to diagnose problems with his software?

Just before 8AM local time, Tower 2 collapsed amid the damage and fire caused by the airliner. The live TV showed the collapse, and then replayed it over and over. A half hour later Tower 1 collapsed. Emptiness and numbness crept in. The enormity of this attack was just too much to take. My team and I just sat, staring blankly at the repeating TV reports for the space of a couple of hours, still worried that there were more planes in the air, traveling to more and more distant targets. Rumors surfaced that another plane had gone down in Pennsylvania.

At around 10AM local, noon eastern, our CEO sent an E-mail summarizing what had happened, reiterating that all of our employees were safe, and instructing us to go home to care for our families, and asking that we keep those who were injured and the families of those killed in our prayers. I left and drove home. I remember coming in the door to the startled look on my wife’s face. I threw my arms around her and just didn’t let go for a few minutes. I also remember needing to see my infant son, Trevor. It was a harsh realization for me that there were things out there that I couldn’t protect my family from. Before, I had felt like I could keep them from any kind of harm, and the loss of that belief felt like a crushing weight.

I finally lost it, broken down to tears, that evening at about 6PM local time. Of course, the TV was still on and giving us information as it came in. NBC news ended one segment with a montage of pictures set to the song ‘Watermark’ by Enya. The emotions which I had been repressing had built up all day, and finally overwhelmed me. I cried for nearly an hour. Listening to that song even now still brings back much of the emotion I felt that day. (This is not the montage video, but the music is the same.)

Like someone who has been robbed, I no longer felt safe. The sunny days of my youth were gone, and the future looked dark and dreary.

In the following months, our nation pulled together as one. In the aftermath, people were nicer to each other. Everybody had this feeling of solidarity that carried over into our daily lives. We all shared the fact that we were victims of this horrible tragedy, and in that similarity, we found it easier to overlook each other’s faults. Those feelings faded, along with the feelings of victimization. The wounds have healed, but left scars that fade just a little more each day.