Tag Archives: the day the world changed

Remember to say I Love You

22 Replies

This is an updated post from two years ago. I am bringing it up because 1) I had only one reader at that time, 2) StoryCorps recently posted an animated video to accompany a father’s recollection of 911 that I think everybody should listen to… So here it is…

One thing about being a parent is that it is probably one of the most universal experiences to relate to people around you.  Complete strangers in the street.  Writers speaking through printed words.  Bloggers on the interweb. Folks you see on the news.

Everybody is somebody else’s child.

Every year, around this fateful day, we heard the stories from parents who lost their children on that day, and I couldn’t stop crying the entire day.  I would pull myself together.  And then the thought “what would I do if it happened to my children?” would trigger another fit.  I don’t presume that I understand the heartaches these parents go through every moment.  Judging by the pain in my chest as I type this, I don’t think I will ever be able to imagine the intensity of it.

I left the house at 7:44 on September 11, 2009, 2 minutes before it was 8:46 am on the East Coast…

NPR played the interview of a fire fighter who lost both of his sons at the World Trade Center.  I steeled myself against the impact.

Mr. John Vigiano Sr. is a retired firefighter.  One of his boys was a policeman, and the other, a firefighter.  When John became a firefight, he received his grandfather’s badge number, 3436.

“We had the boys for — John for 36 years, Joe for 34 years, ironically. Badge number 3436.”

This was when my tears started and they have not been completely stopped yet.  I had to pull my car off to the side of the road after what Mr. Vigiano said about their unimaginable loss:

“I don’t have any could’ve, should’ve or would’ves.  I wouldn’t have changed anything.  It’s not many people that the last words they said to their son or daughter was ‘I love you.'”

 

You can read the NPR Story here. Or listen to the StoryCorps recording: Firefighter Father Recalls Losing Sons On 9/11. Or watch the StoryCorps video below.

 

John and Joe from StoryCorps on Vimeo.

p.s. I learned of this video from It Is Monday… which I subscribe to.

Remembering

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It’s always a bitter sweet experience now when flying into New York City. I catch my breath as Manhattan comes into view, New York!  New York! I sing to my self, but immediately recognize the void and the memories from ten years ago come flashing back.

Filmmaker Dan Meth compiled all (or at least most) of the cameos made by the Twin Towers in the movies from 1969 (when it was literally being born) to 2001…

 

Twin Tower Cameos from Dan Meth on Vimeo.

 

Whenever I catch the scene being replayed, I cannot avert my eyes from the surreal images. My oldest is now 13. It’s been ten years yet I still cannot believe the horror.

Remember where you were when you saw it? For the first time? (The following was originally written and posted a year ago)

I am sure all of us (those old enough) do.

I was in Boise, Idaho then. I was working as a management consultant, traveling Monday through Thursday. By then, I have been on the project for almost half a year. I wanted to get ahead, to have a career. I was an over-achiever wannabe and, like everybody else on my team, I was almost ready to head over to the client’s office before 7 am.

I was not giving what’s on the TV news my full attention until all of a sudden, it turned into a special report and the image of  a skyscraper with ridiculous amount of smoke coming out of it came on the screen.

What’s that? It must be from a movie. They are doing a preview of some disaster movie.

I turned up the volume and it took me awhile to understand the words that were being said. But they did not make any sense at all.

How could it happen? What do they mean it’s a plane? No, it cannot be a plane. You can’t see anything. Just the smoke. How big is Word Trade Center anyway? Can an entire plane fit into it without us seeing a wing? What is going on? Something wrong with the plane? The engine stopped? The pilot had a heart attack? A hijacker? What exactly has happened?

We still did NOT know at this moment that this was still BEFORE, that a few minutes later most of us would catch one of the most horrifying images live on television. All the news cameras were pointing at the burning building as the reporters on TV and on the phone trying to carry on with a news story with little information coming through. And then we saw it…

This cannot be happening. It did not just happen. Oh my god.

With utter disbelief, while I was calling my husband to wake him up, “Go turn on the TV, now!” I watched the second plane fly into view of the news video camera…  We watched the news together connected by phone until our three-year-old son woke up and came to find my husband in front of the television.

“I am not sure I know how to explain to him. But I think I am going to keep him at home with me today.”

Nobody was in the office when I walked in. We all gathered in the cafeteria where there were several television monitors. The entire day was filled with confusion, rumors, information and misinformation, news, more news, news that later was proven to be just rumors, and our efforts to make sense of what’s going on, and more immediately, when it was certain that the US airspace was closed indefinitely, to get ourselves home.

All of us wanted to be home. Everything else just seemed… trivial. Airports all over the country were closed. Unable to just sit and wait, several people , including one person who lived in New York City, rented cars and simply started driving. When all the rental cars were gone the next day, a fellow Chicagoan jumped on a Greyhound bus, similarly unable to just sit and wait, and started (as we found out later) a three-day journey home.

It was a surreal experience getting on a plane again on that Friday. I was of course excited to finally head home and yet, like every other air traveler in those weeks immediately afterwards, I was apprehensive, the images permanently seared in my mind. It felt like such a victory when I stepped into the house. I am finally home! I hugged my then three-year-old boy even tighter when he told me that he had been watching “the movie with a burning building and an airplane flying into another building” with daddy.

Like everybody else, we looked at our lives and looked them again really hard, felt grateful that we were able to hold each other in our arms, and saw and recognized for a brief moment what was truly important.

Remember where you were when you heard the news?

16 Replies

Remember where you were when you saw it? For the first time?

I am sure all of us (those old enough) do.

I was in Boise, Idaho then. I was working as a management consultant, traveling Monday through Thursday. By then, I have been on the project for almost half a year. I wanted to get ahead, to have a career. I was an over-achiever wannabe and, like everybody else on my team, I was almost ready to head over to the client’s office before 7 am.

I was not giving what’s on the TV news my full attention until all of a sudden, it turned into a special report and the image of  a skyscraper with ridiculous amount of smoke coming out of it came on the screen.

What’s that? It must be from a movie. They are doing a preview of some disaster movie.

I turned up the volume and it took me awhile to understand the words that were being said. But they did not make any sense at all.

How could it happen? What do they mean it’s a plane? No, it cannot be a plane. You can’t see anything. Just the smoke. How big is Word Trade Center anyway? Can an entire plane fit into it without us seeing a wing? What is going on? Something wrong with the plane? The engine stopped? The pilot had a heart attack? A hijacker? What exactly has happened?

We still did NOT know at this moment that this was still BEFORE, that a few minutes later most of us would catch one of the most horrifying images live on television. All the news cameras were pointing at the burning building as the reporters on TV and on the phone trying to carry on with a news story with little information coming through. And then we saw it…

This cannot be happening. It did not just happen. Oh my god.

I immediately called and woke up my husband, “Go turn on the TV, now!”. We watched the news together this way until our three-year-old son woke up and came to find husband in front of the television.

“I am not sure I know how to explain to him. But I think I am going to keep him at home with me today.”

Nobody was in the office when I walked in. We all gathered in the cafeteria where there were several television monitors. The entire day was filled with confusion, rumors, information and misinformation, news, more news, news that later was proven to be just rumors, and our efforts to make sense of what’s going on, and more immediately, when it was certain that the US airspace was closed indefinitely, to get ourselves home.

All of us wanted to be home. Everything else just seemed… trivial. Airports all over the country were closed. Unable to just sit and wait, several people , including one person who lived in New York City, rented cars and simply started driving. When all the rental cars were gone the next day, a fellow Chicagoan jumped on a Greyhound bus, similarly unable to just sit and wait, and started (as we found out later) a three-day journey home.

It was a surreal experience getting on a plane again on that Friday. I was of course excited to finally head home and yet, like every other air traveler in those weeks immediately afterwards, I was apprehensive, the images permanently seared in my mind. It felt like such a victory when I stepped into the house. I am finally home! I hugged my then three-year-old boy even tighter when he told me that he had been watching “the movie with a burning building and an airplane flying into another building” with daddy.

Like everybody else, we looked at our lives and looked them again really hard, felt grateful that we were able to hold each other in our arms, and saw and recognized for a brief moment what was truly important.

How old is our oldest now? Three and a half? Didn’t we say we would like another child at some point? What happened? Why did we overlook the fact that our oldest is now almost four?

…. …. …. …. …. ….

I have no idea what I am trying to say. I simply need to type my words out.

Remember where you were when you heard the news?

Sue did. She was right there. Sue was living in New York City then, only a few blocks away from the World Trade Center. Her post on her yearly remembrance of her personal 911 took my breath away.

…. …. …. …. …. ….

Last year I wrote about a couple who lost both of their sons on September 11, and how much the father’s words affected me:

“I don’t have any could’ve, should’ve or would’ves.  I wouldn’t have changed anything.  It’s not many people that the last words they said to their son or daughter was ‘I love you.'”

One of the most valuable lessons I learned from all the heart-breaks:

Remember to say I love you every time you say good-bye to your kids… (and all your other loved ones of course)

Somehow I have forgot already. I am glad I remembered today.

Remember to say I love you every time you say good-bye to your kids…

4 Replies

One thing about being a parent is that it is probably one of the most universal experiences to relate to people around you.  Complete strangers in the street.  Writers speaking through printed words.  Bloggers on the interweb.  Folks you see on the news.

Everybody is somebody else’s child.

This is sappy.  I know.

Today is 9-11.

I watched the taped replay of the first plane on the news in a hotel in Boise 8 years ago.   With utter disbelief, while I was calling my husband to wake him up, “Go turn on the TV, now!” I watched the second plane fly into view of the news video camera…

Every year, on this day, we heard the stories from parents who lost their children on that day, and I couldn’t stop crying the entire day.  I would pull myself together.  And then the thought “what would I do if it happened to my children?” would trigger another fit.  I don’t presume that I understand the heartaches these parents go through every moment.  Judging by the pain in my chest as I type this, I don’t think I will ever be able to imagine the intensity of it.

I left the house at 7:44 this morning.  That was 2 minutes before it was 8:46 am on the East Coast…

NPR played the interview of a fire fighter who lost both of his sons on 9-11-2001.  I steeled myself against the impact.

Mr. John Vigiano Sr. is a retired firefighter.  One of his boys was a policeman, and the other, a firefighter.  When John became a firefight, he received his grandfather’s badge number, 3436.

“We had the boys for — John for 36 years, Joe for 34 years, ironically. Badge number 3436.”

This was when my tears started and they have not been completely stopped yet.  I had to pull my car off to the side of the road after what Mr. Vigiano said about their unimaginable loss:

“I don’t have any could’ve, should’ve or would’ves.  I wouldn’t have changed anything.  It’s not many people that the last words they said to their son or daughter was ‘I love you.'”

Again.  I know this is probably unbearably sappy.  But, please, remember to tell your children you love them every time you say good-bye to them.


You can read the NPR Story here.

Or listen to the StoryCorps recording: Firefighter Father Recalls Losing Sons On 9/11