I was on my
way to New Orleans from Shreveport, Louisiana for work. The sky was gray with an ominous threat of a
deluge as I sped down Interstate 49. Traffic
began to thin out down around Alexandria, which I thought was a bit odd but was
a nice change. The lush green of the
fields caressed the sides of the highway with occasional stands of palmettos. Here and there old houses and barns sagged beneath
the weight of kudzu and time. It was a
lovely drive but at that time still a bit remote.
As I neared
Alexandria, knowing this would be my last chance before Lafayette, I pulled
into a truck stop. It was as crowded as
I had ever seen it. There were big rigs
in all colors and shades of road weariness parked willy-nilly, here and there. Mother Nature was singing her siren song as I
quickly made my way to the restrooms. I
passed motorist standing in the aisles staring at a small fifteen-inch
television sitting on the counter. Everyone
was frozen as if an evil sorcerer had cast a spell upon them.
I returned
from the Ladies to find them all still in the same place spellbound by the
small screen. I noticed tears in eyes of
big burly men and women openly weeping.
I edged my way forward. A bear of
a man was standing next to a lanky scarecrow, they both had tears rolling down
their faces diluting the coffee growing cold in their hands. I edged closer and followed their gaze to the
T.V. that stood there.
My breath
left my body. My legs were weak as the
second plane veered dipped and then flew into the second tower. I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up
at a complete stranger holding me up and cried “is this real? Is this really happening?” He nodded an affirmative.
I looked
around at the people standing in the rows of candy bars and beef jerky. Tears flowed freely, choked sounds of dismay
and disbelief drowned out the country music on the speakers. A man toward the back said “do y’all mind if
I pray?” Not one person objected. They may have been Jewish or Baptist,
Methodist or Buddhist they may have been Muslim but they all bowed their heads
and prayed with that man in the back. We
asked for peace and safety for those in the towers, we prayed for those poor
souls on the plane and we prayed for ourselves.
When he
finished his prayer not a soul made a move.
Not a soul left that store in the middle of the swamps. We all stood and watched, wondering if we
were safe. More reports came. They had bombed the Pentagon, there was a
plane down in Pennsylvania. They were
going to crash into the White House. They
were going to take out Wall Street.
We watched
as people covered in white ash and blood ran from those burning collapsing
towers and brave first responders and heroes ran toward them. We watched as helicopters flew over the crash
site and reporters spoke in excited voices from the fringes. We watched, we wept and we wondered. What happens now?
I slowly
made my way out to my car and pickup my mobile phone. I called my mom and my dad and told them I
loved them. I called my daughter and we
cried together. I called my office and
told my co-workers I loved them and told them all to be safe. I wanted those I loved to know it and feel
it.
I eventually
made it to New Orleans. Late for my
appointment but the client didn’t care.
We were all in shock. I got to my
hotel in the French Quarter. The desk
clerk looked shell shocked. People,
zombie-like, moved through the machinations of their day. The bellman led me to my room and helped me
with my bags. I tried to tip him but he
refused. Life was different.
In
twenty-minutes time, life had changed.
People were unsure and humbled.
The vitriolic rhetoric of retribution had not yet started. We were just trying to sort through the
terror and strife. I sat in my room
watching hour after hour of reports from New York. People looking for loved ones and first
responders looking like ghosts reporting both good news and bad.
Then came
the awful replays of bodies jumping from eighteen stories up and those towers
falling. They played clips of a burning
field detailing the crash site and the Pentagon scorched and gaping.
As I made my
way to dinner that evening I noticed people were more polite, a little
friendlier and ignoble.
Where were
you on 9-11-01?
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