With the 12th anniversary ceremonies planned worldwide for 9/11, there will probably be many words spoken and visual effects to reflect upon. Silent words and invisible mental portraits are imbedded in my heart and mind in regards to 9/11 – not from news accounts or ceremonies. I was there - helpless and vulnerable – silent and invisible. I was there. As a newly promoted master sergeant, I was assigned as the superintendent of the Army’s Office of the Chief of Public Affairs in Manhattan, N.Y. located a few miles from what is now referred to as “Ground Zero.” On that fateful Tuesday morning, I was headed to what once was the “Twin Towers” for a 9:30 a.m. meeting on the 26th floor of Tower I. I planned on arriving early to grab a quick bite to eat. Though blocks away from my destination, I heard a loud boom in the vicinity. I looked in the direction of the sound and noticed black smoke and a huge hole in one of the towers. Because planes often fly close to the towers as they land at nearby LaGuardia Airport, I thought it was simply a terrible accident. However, minutes later, I watched another plane circle the towers, appear to aim directly at the site, turn sideways, and plow into the other side of the tower. I knew at that moment this was no accident. Though I was blocks away when the buildings collapsed, debris was scattered miles away. As the jet fuel burst into flames and the towers began to collapse, onlookers began running for their lives. The combustible flames seemed to instantly disintegrate into ash and spread for what seemed like miles of destruction. I was hit by flying debris and shrapnel. Physical numbness could not compare to the aches and pains of confusion. In the midst of the chaos, I felt silent and invisible. When informed the Pentagon was hit, I froze where I stood – numbness increasing rapidly. I was at the Pentagon five days earlier in the very section (Public Affairs) the other plane crashed into. Twelve years later, while I will never forget 9/11, I have tried to not let it dominate my being. I’ve come to realize we only get one chance at this thing called life. People often are encouraged to “live for today.” We cannot change yesterday, and no one knows what tomorrow brings. That said, 9/11 forever shall be my yesterday, today and tomorrow. I realize the ceremonies are part of the healing for many. It closes a chapter in many people’s stories. However, for me, thinking about 9/11 opens new chapters that may never end. The countless questions that begin with “Why” continue to ponder my soul. “Why did this happen?” “Why did we have to lose so many innocent people?” “Why was I spared?” In my mind I hear silent words, accompanied by invisible photos of memories I will never forget. There are no words or photos this writer could piece together to describe the destruction I experienced and witnessed Sept. 11, 2001. I do not need news accounts or third party hearsay. I was there. I still see the buildings lined with photos of missing loved ones, Chelsea Piers, where I often played basketball, being used as a makeshift morgue. I was there – silent and invisible. There is much pain from the destruction, many tears for lives lost, guilty feelings for being thankful for living when so many others perished. The numbing feeling in my soul remains. The mental, spiritual, emotional and physical scars remain, but they are silent and invisible. There are a few positives to take from this experience. New Yorkers became friendlier. “I love you” and “I miss you" became easier to say worldwide. People seem to have an even greater appreciation for those who serve. Personally, I try to live a happier life. If 9/11 taught me anything, I now realize tomorrow is not promised. Many casualties from 9/11 had their plans forever altered because of that tragedy. On the outside, I may still be the same person – maybe more appreciative. The scars from 11 stitches caused by flying debris and a ruined suit seem like a small price to pay – considering the devastation. Ten years later, much deeper are the scars, only they are now silent and invisible. I was there in New York City Sept. 11, 2001. I am thankful to ironically be here in the Middle East Sept. 11, 2011. Many will ponder what they were doing 10 years ago. I will not. I was there. Rather than rehash that fateful day, I will try to render my thoughts and feelings…silent and invisible.
Posted on: Wed, 11 Sep 2013 12:02:19 +0000
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