Thursday, September 12, 2013

Wednesday, September 11, 2013

Memories of 9/11/01

I remember exactly where I was when the first plane hit.  I was wrapping up a run on the treadmill at Sports Club LA (those were the days) when Matt Lauer awkwardly interrupted an interview with an author, I think, to cut to commercial with promises to return with a breaking story (they didn’t have the video ready).  I hit the showers and when I emerged, Matt had returned with Katie Couric and they were reporting that a plane had hit the North Tower of the World Trade Center, but they had few details.  My initial theory was that a small Cessna-type plane had become disoriented/had mechanical problems.  As I was at my locker getting dressed for work, I watched the second plane hit the South Tower live while watching the coverage of the first.  The reaction in the locker room was muted disbelief and confusion, which eventually disintegrated into a chorus of “Oh my God!”s and  “What is going on?”s. There were probably about 15 of us, oblivious to our various states of undress, standing transfixed in front of the tv.  We were still there more than 30 minutes later when reports of a plane crashing into the Pentagon began.

Our collective horror and confusion eventually turned to concern for our own safety – this was not just an attack on NYC, which was upsetting enough, the attacks could be anywhere.  Although the gym was downtown, it was not in a high rise or a realistic target, but my office certainly was (on the harbor, it’s the high rise capped with the pyramid).  And the first two planes originated in Boston, so we realized that at some point that morning, the terrorists were here. 

I gathered my belongings, called the office to say I would not be coming in and got home as quickly as possible.  The train was abuzz with strangers exchanging the latest information/misinformation and expressing our horror and concern for those affected.  I hunkered in my living room with my brother and my friend Kristy (none of us wanted to be alone and I had the biggest tv).  Notwithstanding that much of the information was mostly speculative and redundantly so, we sat there for hours, not eating, although probably drinking.  Actually, now that I am writing this, it was much like the day that Boston stopped during the manhunt for Tsarnaev after the marathon bombings - the streets were empty and everybody was glued to television coverage.  Life everywhere just stopped.  This made it that much more horrifying when most of us saw the towers fall in real time.  Each member of my little crew gasped and just cried, including my emotionless brother.  So many innocent and brave people (and one canine officer), so senselessly killed.  I really can’t say anything profound about the horror – it was all so unsettling and sad.  

And twelve years later, it still makes me sad.  I was unable to observe the national moment of silence this morning because I was sobbing uncontrollably and audibly.

I only directly knew one person who was killed – Chris Mello.  I played on a softball team with him the summer before.  We weren’t great friends, but he was a fun, smart, charismatic guy with a promising life ahead of him.  Another friend lost her Mom on flight 175 and a law school boyfriend lost his brother at Cantor Fitzgerald.  My heart aches for their families and for the families of the 2,974 other families who lost loved ones that day. May all of the fallen rest in peace and their families find it.

My facebook is flooded with thoughts and memorials today, but someone posted a link to this very simple, but beautiful, video.  This ad was run only once because Budweiser wanted to acknowledge the horror, but not profit from it.  Say what you will about them, but they have great ads.  I am emotional today, but I’m pretty sure this would make me cry on my best day.

And they followed up with this on the tenth anniversary, which shows the construction of the Freedom Tower.  Because although we will never forget, we must regroup, move on and rebuild.  

Saturday, September 7, 2013

Is there anything gayer than a lesbian's two female cats spooning on her softball glove?
Like ·  · Unfollow Post · Promote ·