Many people have mentioned September 11 in their blogs and else where this week as the fifth anniversary occurs. I have often thought about My own personal bit of connection to it. It is a tiny thing compared to the enormity of the loss suffered by so many. But it is mine and it haunts me.
I wasn't sure about the details, but Gina's post confirmed it for me. I was coming into work when a coworker stopped me before I entered the elevator and mentioned that there was an explosion at the World Trade Center. After I got to my office, we began watching a grainy portable black & white television that someone kept in her cubicle. My phone rang. It was my mother. Apparently, some communication nexus had been situated in the World Trade Center and like Gina she could not get any information as to what was going on. "Jude" she says, "There has been a terrible accident with a plane and the World Trade Center. They said the plane was coming from Boston !" "Oh Mommy, it's not an accident, they did it on purpose. It is a terrorist attack"
Silence. One of the longest Silences in my life. It bothered me that I had to impart this terrible information to my mother. A fun, sweet and giving soul whose life revolves friend and family and church.
Then it occurred to me that my in-laws are not likely to be sitting around watching television. I don't think they turn it on until Dad wants to watch the news on PBS.
Are you kidding ? It was a brilliant September day on the Cape. They were not even in the house at the time. I was able to get them on the phone and passed on the terrible news. They were thankful for the information and knew that there were others that they wanted to connect to, such as my sister in law, who had lived in New York. I was sad to have to tell them about the tragedy as well.
The lives of so many people are changed in so many ways. Let us not be judgmental.
Thursday, September 14, 2006
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1 comment:
What a surreal day. I too served as a commuication point for the family. I could call my SIL in midtown and my Mom in NJ but they couldn't call each other. We were frantic until my brother (who as in law school downtown and watched the second plane hit from his classroom) made contact with someone. Finally, I could go home and cry.
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