Remebering 9-11

September 11, 2001 was six years ago today. It is hard to believe that it has been more than half a decade already. So today I take a break from the diamond to share my 9-11 story, what it means to me, and some other thoughts on the post 9-11 world.

I was living in Boston at the time (rough place for a Yankees fan) and working at my first job out of college. September 11, 2001 was a beautiful fall day and I came into work just like I had every other day, and by that I mean I was supposed to be in at 8:30 but I was running late. When I finally got in at around 8:45 there was already a message from one of my friends to call her back, apparently a plane had "accidentally" flown into one of the world trade center towers.

Now I have always had a special place in my heart for those two towers. Growing up my aunt and uncle lived almost directly across the street from them and I used to look up in wonderment at just how tall they were. There was certainly nothing like them in the small town in Vermont where I grew up. Standing on the top floor of the Trade Centers was one of the biggest thrills of my younger years. In fact the very month before while visiting my brother I asked him if we could go back up, but unfortunately there wasn't time. We decided that we would go on my next visit which would presumably be in October so that we could catch some post season play at Yankee Stadium. Well, we all know what happened next.

After I got the message that morning I checked CNN to see what was going on, and indeed something had hit one of the towers but no one really knew what was going on. One thought raced through my mind, my two brothers. My middle brother lives in Brooklyn and my oldest brother happen to be there visiting him that weekend and was scheduled to come back that morning. I called and told them to turn on the news. Fortunately my oldest brother had not left for Penn Station yet, so I told them to stay put just in case. Then I called to wake up my mother to let her know that we were all ok. She was a nervous wreck.

By the time the second plane hit we all knew that this was no accident. It was like something out of a movie. We all ran to the AV room in my office to watch what was happening on TV. I simply have no way of describing what it was like watching that.

The only solace that I took at that point was the fact that I was pretty sure my two brothers and sister in law were ok. Then I came back to my desk. My mother had left me a message saying that my older brother decided to get out of the city rather than stick around. Anyone trying to make a phone call into New York at this time can tell you that it just wasn't happening. You were lucky to get connected once every 50 tries. I couldn't contact my brother, no one knew where he was, and then the tower came crashing down. I was in hysterics.

The sight of the towers being hit was one thing, but the towers falling and knowing that my brother was somewhere in the vicinity of what was going on was almost too much to take.

I could look up the exact times of when the planes hit what, but in my memory the Pentagon was hit sometime around all of this madness. The Pentagon had been hit, are you fucking kidding me!

Our offices where evacuated at that point and I jumped in a cab home and called everyone that I could to find out if everyone was alright. It wasn't until 3:30 that afternoon that my sister in law, who worked in midtown, was finally able to meet up with my brother. His story up to that point was nothing less than amazing.

He was on the N train which goes through the Canal Street Subway station right around the time the second plane hit. The Subway filled with smoke and they had to be evacuated to the surface through an emergency tunnel. At the top of the tunnel an EMT tried to treat him for smoke inhalation, then one of the towers came crashing down a mere twenty or so blocks from where he was. He and everyone else ran uptown. Somehow he eventually was able to find his way to my sister in law, which in itself is a miracle.

Our offices were closed the next day. But on the 13th we had to go back into work. I remember getting on the T (Boston's subway) that morning. Everyone on the train looked at each other with a look of shock. No one said a word, but everyone was thinking the same thing. Did this really happen....can you believe this....is this some kind of movie? It was the only time I have ever been on a packed subway train where no one said a thing, it was surreal.

The next few days were pure pandemonium. Our office was evacuated three times, and everyone was constantly on edge. There were reports of malls being the next target, apartment buildings, etc etc. Then the Anthrax scare happened. Eventually things calmed down, but anyone who didn't live during that time will never be able to fully comprehend the sense of anxiety we went through for those months. I was so angry that I almost joined the military.

I am glad that I didn't enlist. You see the anger that I now feel is two pronged. I'm still angry at the people who did this to us, but I am just as mad at our political leadership (Democrats and Republicans) for turning my story, and everyone's story for that matter into political fodder to be used for a pipe dream cause. By that I mean the war in Iraq. I never would have imagined that 6 years after nearly losing a family member we would be entrenched in a new Vietnam. Meanwhile the people who did this to us are still making their home videos and planning something even bigger. The events of 9-11 should have been a lesson, not a tool for foolishness. Because of a massive failure of leadership, 6 years later we are just as vulnerable, and even more hated than ever before. I live in Washington and there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think to myself "is today the day."