Twenty years and three days ago, we were in New York City. We were visiting Vic’s son, Bryan, in Philadelphia, and we wanted to go to the Bronx Zoo, which we had never seen before. We had a great time at the zoo, and then we went out for a late lunch/early dinner before heading back to Philly.
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| A great shot of a gorilla at the Bronx Zoo |
As I recall, we took the New Jersey Turnpike, and on the way to Philly, we drove right by the Twin Towers. Being hicks from the Midwest and the Rocky Mountain West, we were enthralled by the buildings in New York—total tourists. The sun was setting and just glowing on the Towers. Vic (of course) wanted to stop and take a picture, but Bryan knew better—you don’t just stop on the Jersey Turnpike, and you really don’t want to stop to take a picture.
“No worries,” Vic said. “We’ll get ’em next time.”
If Vic’s photographic record is correct, that was a busy trip. In addition to the Bronx Zoo, we went to Longwood Gardens to the west of Philadelphia and the National Aquarium in Baltimore.
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| Longwood Gardens |
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| Inner Harbor in Baltimore |
On September 10, the Broncos played the Giants on Monday Night Football. That was the game in which Ed McCaffrey broke his leg, but the Broncos still demolished the Giants. 😉
Almost every 9/11 story starts with, “It was a beautiful fall day.” But it was, so it must be said. The sun was shining; the sky was blue; the air was crisp.
We had a morning flight out of Philadelphia, and Bryan drove us to the airport. We left Bryan’s before 8 a.m., taking time to snap a few shots. It was just a regular day, so as usual, Vic was playing the joker.
We talked on the way to the airport, so we weren’t listening to the news. Bryan dropped us off, and we checked in at the counter. Our flight didn’t leave for a few hours (we were notorious for getting to the airport ridiculously early), so we walked around the airport, stopping at a gift shop, a newsstand and the food court.
On the way to get our authentic East Coast airport bagels (which is to say, definitely not authentic East Coast bagels), we saw the TV on in a bar. (Yes, bars in airports are open that early in the morning.) It looked like a building was on fire. We walked on by. It could have been any building in any city. It was just a fire.
We ate our bagels and talked about our trip and getting home to our kitties. Nothing seemed amiss at the airport, so we headed back to our gate. Went by that bar again. Now more people were watching the TV, so we stopped. The caption at the bottom said a plane had hit one of the Twin Towers. We watched for a while, and then we noticed the airport was buzzing. There were announcements over the loudspeakers, but we couldn’t tell what was going on.
At some point, I called Bryan. We didn’t have cell phones yet, so I had to wait in line at a pay phone. When I got through, he sounded panicked. “Stay there!” he shouted. “A plane just went down in Pennsylvania! I’m coming to get you!”
The rest of the day was a blur. We went back to his apartment, and then at some point, we went to the airport to pick up our luggage. There were concerns about family being in the city—but everyone checked in safe. We watched TV day and night as the news continued to pour in and the posters started to appear—has anybody seen ... my dad, my sister, my cousin? It was heartbreaking.
We finally pulled away from the TV a couple of days later and went to Valley Forge National Historical Park. The park rangers were wearing sidearms—no one knew what might happen. We went to a diner for lunch, and everyone was talking in hushed tones.
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| Valley Forge |
We finally made it out on September 14. I’ve never been in quieter places than the planes and airports we were in. When our pilot showed up at our layover in Houston, he received a standing ovation.
We got home to find one of our kitties in distress—he was diabetic and needed his insulin, but it was too late. He passed away at the vet’s. Just another victim of the terrorists, we always said.
We picked up pizza the next night at our regular pizza joint. It was a mom and pop place, and the owners knew we had been to Philly and asked us about it. They took almost an hour out of a busy Friday night to sit at a table outside and listen to our story, and then a few days later, we received a sympathy card in the mail from them for our kitty.
Because that’s how it was in the days after 9/11. We all pulled together. We supported each other. We consoled and hugged and cared. We treasured our first responders.
We have strayed from that spirit of unity in the past two decades, but on this day of remembrance, I choose to believe that we can join together as one, a nation united.
My heart goes out to all those who lost family and friends on this day 20 years ago and those who are fighting physical and mental illness because of the events of that day. My bottomless thanks go to all first responders everywhere—always running in where everyone else is running out. 💗
I’ll leave you as I usually do—with one of Vic’s awesome pictures.
