Present at the Creation

"A news crawler says there's a fire at the Pentagon."

C2 member Michele (Atilla the Honey) shares her memories of a clear September morning.

We ended up naming the project clusterfuck because it was the most bone grinding implementation of our professional lives. 52 hrs straight was common for 3 months – at least.

We have a few days off. Good call. We are all clinically insane by now. On day two, I am well-rested. Good sleep.

Shower. Tackle the homefront paperwork that has been neglected. Good coffee. Hubby, John, is off to the Hill with clients. Quiet day. TV on as background noise. Are there any bills I missed paying?

Good lord, what a gorgeous day. Open the doors and windows, I have never seen a sky so clear or the air so clean. I’m going to get a lot done.

What? A plane hit the World Trade Center? That’s one of our vacation spots! We stay at the Millenium Hilton one weekend every year during baseball season. Take in a Yankees game, see the sites. Always get a room overlooking the World Trade Center. Gah. Please don't show people jumping out windows.

I’m not paying attention to the TV – what the hell is this paperwork telling me? I can’t find the first notice that this so-called second notice says they sent. I hate paper. I’ll go see what the news is saying about that plane that just killed lots of people because I definitely don’t want to deal with these paper idiots.

Wait. I did not just see this. A second plane...

Jon Scott on Fox nails "Osama Been Ladden" after about 5 seconds.

“Osama been WHO?? Who is this person? WHAT?!"

I just watch, frozen. About half an hour later I feel/hear something concussive. Train must have derailed over on the Fleet St. track. That carries cargo, not passengers. Hope everything is ok but the sirens are telling me probably not.

[9:35 am. John's meeting in the Longworth cafeteria is over. He's got a conference call to dial in to. As people call in, someone arrives on the call and says "We can't do this now. The WTC has been hit and we have other things to do." John and his clients will just go back to the office. But when they step out into the hallway, they see people just RUNNING. "The Pentagon has been bombed. GET OUT" They hauled ass outside and every cop is screaming RUN! RUN! They are running between Longworth and Rayburn to get to the car and the sky is one black, oily plume of smoke.]

A news crawler says there is a fire at the Pentagon.

Now I know. No one has said it's another plane, but I know it's another plane. I know there was no train derailed and I know a plane has hit the Pentagon.

I walk outside and see the grey smoke billowing.

The Saudi family next door is also outside. Oh, they're out to see the smoke, too. No. They are frantic. The younger children are taking the toys from the yard into the garage. The nanny is helping them and she is sobbing. Ali and the older children are loading suitcases into the family van. Lou, the mom, is strapping the baby in. They are leaving. In a hurry.

I walk back inside. Somebody is talking about 'a white plane' flying over the White House. That airspace is restricted. Where are the scrambled fighters? Or is it one of ours?

And where is my husband? The land line is dead. The cell phone gets busy signal after busy signal.

I know I am 'present at the creation' of something. I just don't know what it is.

The South Tower is down. There's another plane coming in. Not New York, they think. Washington.

The North Tower is down.

The land line is ringing?! Oh, thank you, God, thank you.

It's our friend, Bill. "Michele? Hang on, I've got John, I'm conferencing you in." John had called him, hoping that because of his location he might be available through a secure network and could call me. He was and he did. All John's attempts to reach me at home were met with busy signals.

John had his clients with him, ETA about 30 minutes. He went around the Beltway in the opposite direction, through Maryland, to avoid the 14th St. bridge

It wasn't quite 30 minutes when they pulled into the drive. Everyone is home, safe and sound.

No. Not everyone. The fourth plane has gone down in Pennsylvania. There are a lot of people that will never be home safe and sound.

So, that was the day.

In the following few days we learned a few things. Some children in the neighborhood who always came to our house for Trick or Treat lost a parent at the Pentagon. That Halloween I made special gift bags for them. They never came.

The Civilian Air Patrols started immediately. They flew over always at 2 am. The first three nights it terrified me. The second night I threw up. But then, it was like a recurring lullabye. Every night at 2 am our guardians flew overhead. When they finally had to stop because the pilots were so tired, I didn't sleep through the night for a week.

We looked for ways to help. We found Adopt a Soldier. We've adopted three soldiers so far, one in Afghanistan and two in Iraq. Who knew soldiers would love us forever because we send them baby wipes by the crate?

Some don't come home the way they're supposed to. But we know how to do that now, too.

This is how we bring them home.