The day started out so normal; I timed my morning rush just enough to stop by the small, friendly dining hall next door for a blueberry swirled bagel and raspberry iced tea to take to my 9:20 class. Something wasn’t right, though, when I left the staircase and entered the café… people were glued to the televisions. There was no one at the checkout counter when I went to check out. Over came the cashier, who greeted me almost daily as I ate in that dining hall, knew me by name. “A plane crashed into the world trade center,” she said. My first thought was, “a plane crash, what an unfortunate accident.” Seconds later, I heard someone exclaim, “another plane has just hit the other tower!” I slowed down to catch some of the television coverage on my way out, but back at that time, class was my biggest worry in life. Being late, getting a bad grade – a much bigger concern on my conscious mind then the security of our powerful nation. So off to the social sciences building I went.
The first indication I got that something was seriously wrong was when my professor cancelled class. I went to the computer lab and started an email chain with friends, asking if they have any idea what’s going on. After a few back and forths, my friend sent a one-liner that still chills me: “They just bombed the Pentagon.” Word started getting out that all classes were cancelled, so we made plans to hang out at the dining hall and watch the coverage on television. Everyone was somber, quiet, glued to the television. We got out first glimpse of Osama bin Laden, who is so ugly and evil that I have not been able to look at his picture directly without feeling a little ill. There were tears, but there was togetherness, with my 3 best friends who are still my best friends today.
The Red Cross was on campus that day. I was afraid of needles and thought I’d never give blood, but it seemed like the right thing to do. So we gathered in the Student Union and just waited for hours with hundreds of students who had the same idea. We never did make it to the blood room – time just ran out – but even waiting and being willing to give blood made it seem like we were doing something.
Went back to the dorm… minutes later, the RA’s came through, telling us we all had to go to the Rec Center for a mandatory assembly. I left so abruptly that I locked my keys inside my room. Asked the RA if he could open the door and he said no, just to go.
In the assembly, we learned that someone called in a bomb threat in an unidentified residence hall. Therefore, until all the residence halls were checked, we were not to enter any of them. By that time, the sun was already starting to set, so we headed to the chapel for a candlelight vigil. The warmth and spirit of the student body, brought together with songs such as “Lean on Me,” was overwhelming and beautiful and safe. When we started singing “America the Beautiful,” my friend lost it and took off. I followed her, but she made it clear she wanted to be alone. So there I was on campus…alone… at that moment, I felt connectionless. I didn’t have a cell phone at that time… I didn’t have my keys, money, a jacket, my student ID… I was alert for another possible attack at any moment –maybe this time they’d take out half the US. I couldn’t go to the dorm, I couldn’t call my family.. I was just alone.
I did go to the library and confirmed that my family was okay via email. Waited out the dorm evacuations and got the okay to go inside. Felt like we would never be the same. I wondered if the US was going to be the same in the morning; I wondered if I should even bother applying to grad school- would I have a career?
The next morning, classes were in session. My perception that NOTHING was going to ever be the same was shattered within 5 minutes of class when the prof of my fiction class said, “Well, there was a pretty large tragedy yesterday, and in our reading, it’s clear that Jane (Eyre) has had quite a tragedy too.” And we were on to discussing the book, which I had not gotten to in the midst of something that seemed much bigger than the reality of reading fiction.
9/11 was the first time that I questioned the power of the US. That is huge.. yet we are left with countless stories of people who have lost so much more than the trust and security – they lost the people who were their world. I don’t know if words can capture the impact that this event has had – the swirling combination of the beauty (of the way we banded together and cared for each other for that day) and the sheer evil and horror that we were all exposed to on that day… the days after…. the years after. Not to mention the hate towards those who chose to suddenly shatter our innocence without warning.
