Reflections on 9/11/01: As a Father, Husband, and Son

It was a beautiful blue sky morning in the Atlanta, GA area on September 11, 2001.  I remember the drive into work and hearing an NPR news story about the assassination of the Northern Alliance leader in Afghanistan.  I got settled into my office and was in the copy room when my financial assistant came in the door.  

She had grabbed some coffee on the way in and the drive-thru lady said that a commercial airliner had crashed into one of the World Trade Center towers.  We flipped on the TV in our conference room, which was the antenna kind with no cable connection.  After some effort, we got a snowy connection that was clear enough to see.

Shortly after, the second tower got hit.  By now, all of us in the office were in the conference room (about 7-8 people).  We were dumbfounded.  102 minutes after the first tower was hit, we witnessed the collapse of one tower with the second tower following it soon thereafter.  Given the epic scale of the tragedy, the initial television coverage kept looping the scenes over and over.  The wall of visuals overwhelmed the our emotional systems.

I remember before the collapse wondering how the fire department would extinguish the flames.  And, wondering how they would be able to restore those buildings.  Admittedly, I also felt some relief when they did collapse, because it’s easier to rebuild from scratch.  Milliseconds after that thought, I reminded myself that those buildings weren’t in isolation.  There were people inside of and around them.

As the events of the day sunk in, we felt an enormous amount of sadness and grief.  As brain research has shown, the human mind is innately wired for empathy.  We each have an amazing amount of capacity to watch others and feel what they feel.  The flood of images triggered deep emotional responses.

That explains the enormous rush to the American Red Cross blood banks and the outpouring of contributions to the various fundraisers.  The sentiment around most of the globe was sympathy for the United States.  Even traditional enemies, like Iran, offered their condolences in back channels.

My first conversation with someone outside the office was with my wife, Jen.  She was at home watching while she cared for our almost five-month-old son.  Ethan was born the same year as 9/11 and was blissfully unaware on a conscious level of the tragedy.  It just felt good to talk with her and make sure Ethan and she were safe.  I felt the need to tell her how much I loved her.  

That evening, I came home and gave both of them a big hug.  It felt good to feel them in my arms.  I couldn’t believe that we had brought a child into a world that spawned so much inhumanity.  What had we done? The entire game had changed and now what?

My mom and dad called me that day, too.  They wanted to see how we were doing and to let us know they loved us very much.  We were all dumbfounded and perplexed.  It seemed all surreal.

As I went about 9/11 this year, I thought mostly of these things.  I thought about how much we were driven to connect with those we loved to make sure they were okay.  Even though none of us were anywhere near NYC, DC, or Pennsylvania, we still wanted to reach our loved ones and hold them in some way to reassure ourselves.  It was comforting to us.

What are your reflections of 9/11 and how it impacted your family?