In the years since 9/11/2001, I have flown many times on
the anniversary of that sad day. This morning I am sitting
in the lounge at Denver Airport waiting to fly home. I am looking at my
boarding pass that says September 11, 2014. It is hard to see that date on a
boarding pass without thinking back to the day that when the Twin towers fell
and the world changed.
I was living in Japan on September 11, 2001. I had just
returned home from a dinner with my visiting boss. As I walked into the living
room of our apartment, I remember saying I was tired and hoped there was “something
interesting on TV”. We didn’t watch much TV when we lived in Japan. In 2001, our international options were limited to CNN, BBC and maybe a cartoon
network. I flipped on CNN and saw a distant shot of the Twin Towers and a commentator
saying it appeared that a small plane such as a Cessna had crashed into the one
of the Towers. It was a beautiful morning in NYC so it was hard to image how a
small plane would be in that airspace and crash into the WTC. I began to read a book but was interested in finding what in fact had hit the World Trade Center so I continued to listen to CNN in the background.
It is hard to image now but when the second plane hit the
WTC, I literally did not believe it. I said to my wife that it was probably the
work of some precocious computer geek that hacked into CNN’s feed. I could see
my wife did not share my theory. Rather than continue to watch, I told my wife
I had to get up early and went to bed believing all was well in NYC. The idea that terrorists could attack NYC and
Washington with commercial aircraft was unimaginable.
As I slumbered my wife remained vigilant in front of the
TV. I woke up in the middle of the night, the TV in the bedroom still on. My
wife was visibly shaken. She confirmed that the US had indeed been attacked and my "hacker theory" was sadly incorrect. I switched
channels and the coverage by then was universal.
The following day was a blur. We woke our daughters up
and explained the big buildings we had taken them to see just a few weeks
earlier on a visit home were now piles of smoldering rubble. Like their parents
it was almost impossible for our daughters to grasp the idea of the US being attacked.
I headed into Osaka on a busy commuter train to meet my
boss and start the day. Lost in thought I felt a hand on my shoulder. The
normally reserved Japanese commuters also seemed stunned and many of them took
leave of their standard behavior and made physical contact with me. Many said in halting English or Japanese that
they were “sorry”. In the more than
2,000 days I have spent in Japan over the years that 21 minute train ride
probably had more of an impact on me than any other experience I had overseas.
I spent the next few days trying to get my boss on a plane
back to the US. Flights to the US were suspended that day, the next day and the one
after that. Finally I suggested he take Air Canada to Toronto and drive to
North Carolina.
I foolishly thought the storm would pass and everything
would be back to normal within a month.
Thirteen years later as I sit in an airport lounge – the talk
on the news is about both the anniversary of the attacks 13 years ago and the
ongoing threats we still live with.
