Four years ago today, it was my day off and I was PMing with a friend who lives in Minnesota. I had Fox News (of course) on in the background when I heard Steve Doosey say something about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. I told my friend to turn on her TV. We both thought it was some sort of horrible accident. Then we both watched as a plane approached the second tower and rammed it. "It's terrorists," I said. "We're at war." Just as I said, "I wonder why they aren't attacking D.C." I heard two thunderous explosions that rattled my windows, compressed my eardrums and sent my three parrots into stampede mode. I live just about two miles from the Pentagon.
Since I live in a high-rise apartment building (eight floors is considered high-rise in this area), I went down to the sub-basement where my car was parked to figure out what to do next. I figured it would be safer to leave the building than to stay put. So I got into my then Caravan and took off driving. The streets were filled with people streaming out of the Pentagon, Crystal City and Pentagon City on foot. For some reason, the image of one woman in a nice business suit and not wearing shoes sticks in my mind. I started giving rides to people to the nearest pay phone or bus stop. DC had been closed off, so I couldn't go to work and help write stories.
In the late afternoon, I went back to my apartment and stayed glued to my TV for the next two days. I marveled at how quickly ALL air traffic in the entire country could be shut down. I thanked GOD that George Bush was our president and not that pinhead Al Gore. And under their breath, a lot of liberals gave the same thanks. (Of course, they've conveniently forgotten that sense of relief now.) I slept well hearing the thundering of fighter jets overhead as they protected the DC area, knowing I now lived in the safest metro area in the world.
But I was reminded of what had happened twice a day when I drove past the Pentagon. It didn't even look real. It looked like a single frame out of a Planet of the Apes movie.
And for the next year at least, I cringed whenever a plane took off or landed at Reagan International Airport.
I'm sitting here writing this in the newsroom on Capitol Hill just a block from the Capitol Building. I know nothing will happen, because DC is deserted on weekends. I can't even get a sandwich from any of the great delis around here. But I'm still watching the clock, anxious to get off work and out of town in 30 minutes.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Where Were You?
Four years ago today, it was my day off and I was PMing with a friend who lives in Minnesota. I had Fox News (of course) on in the background when I heard Steve Doosey say something about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. I told my friend to turn on her TV. We both thought it was some sort of horrible accident. Then we both watched as a plane approached the second tower and rammed it. "It's terrorists," I said. "We're at war." Just as I said, "I wonder why they aren't attacking D.C." I heard two thunderous explosions that rattled my windows, compressed my eardrums and sent my three parrots into stampede mode. I live just about two miles from the Pentagon.
Since I live in a high-rise apartment building (eight floors is considered high-rise in this area), I went down to the sub-basement where my car was parked to figure out what to do next. I figured it would be safer to leave the building than to stay put. So I got into my then Caravan and took off driving. The streets were filled with people streaming out of the Pentagon, Crystal City and Pentagon City on foot. For some reason, the image of one woman in a nice business suit and not wearing shoes sticks in my mind. I started giving rides to people to the nearest pay phone or bus stop. DC had been closed off, so I couldn't go to work and help write stories.
In the late afternoon, I went back to my apartment and stayed glued to my TV for the next two days. I marveled at how quickly ALL air traffic in the entire country could be shut down. I thanked GOD that George Bush was our president and not that pinhead Al Gore. And under their breath, a lot of liberals gave the same thanks. (Of course, they've conveniently forgotten that sense of relief now.) I slept well hearing the thundering of fighter jets overhead as they protected the DC area, knowing I now lived in the safest metro area in the world.
But I was reminded of what had happened twice a day when I drove past the Pentagon. It didn't even look real. It looked like a single frame out of a Planet of the Apes movie.
And for the next year at least, I cringed whenever a plane took off or landed at Reagan International Airport.
I'm sitting here writing this in the newsroom on Capitol Hill just a block from the Capitol Building. I know nothing will happen, because DC is deserted on weekends. I can't even get a sandwich from any of the great delis around here. But I'm still watching the clock, anxious to get off work and out of town in 30 minutes.
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