September 2011
Dear Friend,
Recently I was asked to provide a remembrance of where I was and what I recall from September 11, 2001, or 9-11. That morning I boarded a US Airways flight bound for Washington, DC from Boston. I was later than usual and on the 9AM flight. The plane made the usual slow maneuvers around Logan International Airport and was still climbing when the pilot suddenly announced that we were going to circle quickly and return to the airport.
No one knew what was going on. When I got off the plane, all of the television sets in the terminal were turned off. It was very eerie. I rushed to a spot where I could finally see a television and learned that two planes from Boston had crashed into the World Trade Center and another into the Pentagon. My cell phone was ringing. First my brother, asking if I was on the ground, then others.
I left the airport, going into the same garage that later I would learn was where the terrorists had parked their car. I first stopped at my mother’s house to assure her that I was ok and then rushed to the office of the JASON Project in Waltham where a team of teachers from around the nation were holding a meeting. It was then that I learned that we lost a JASON Project teacher, Hilda Taylor, and the Director of the National Geographic Geography Education Program, Joe Ferguson. They were on the plane that crashed into the Pentagon.
As I was the Youth Minister of a large suburban church, in addition to my duties at the JASON Project, I left to help the Pastor organize a prayer service for the community, fully expecting that some of my contemporaries from the town who also travelled for work might have been killed. As it turned out, none were, but one of them was on the George Washington Bridge and witnessed the planes crashing into the World Trade Center.
All of us have sad memories of that day, for the act itself was as terrifying as the destruction; to think that humans could do such a thing to other humans. Also, terror acts are intended not just to do damage or kill; they intend to strike fear into the soul of those who live. We do well to remind ourselves of President Franklin Roosevelt's words during World War II, "We have nothing to fear, but fear itself."
Let me know your own thoughts on the meaning of this day or your memories of where you were.
Fishing for Comfort
Steve,
What were the chances you were flying out of Boston that day! You must count your lucky stars every night! Wow, no way I can top that story. I’ll share mine with you:
I was managing a swimming pool store in Essex Junction,VT- but had given my two week notice, the previous day. I had gone on vacation that summer to Westerly, RI and had made the decision to move there by the end of September.
As punishment, I believe, they put me on the service crew for pool closings. Very messy, wet and unpleasant work. I spent the entire day riding around the Stowe/ Warren area in a grunman bread truck, with no radio. These were vacation homes so the owners weren’t there.
We didn’t stop for directions, and both of us brought our lunches, so we didn’t go a store. I remember feeling good, and enjoying how quiet and peaceful the day was turning out.
It wasn’t until we got back to the shop at 5pm that we found out. I watched maybe 30 seconds of coverage and went home. For no clear reason at all, I decided I would go fishing. My favorite spot at the time happened to be the Winooski river, right at the base of Burlington’s airport. It was usually a noisy, but productive spot.
I started catching Smallmouth bass right away on the fly rod. The worst tragedy in our history, the world is now changed forever, and I’m out here fishing?? I felt very selfish. I guess I didn’t know what I was “supposed” to do, and this made the most sense to me, at the time.
Thanks for sharing your story & take care
Justin Pilachowski