I don't expect anyone to read this. It's long, and rambling, and quite boring, I'm sure. I would just like to "put it down on paper," so to speak.
I'm a police officer in a city in New Jersey, just two cities away from the George Washington Bridge.
On September 11, 2001 I was home, on maternity leave. My son was not even two months old.
Every morning, when my husband left for work (he owned a moving company in North Arlington NJ, and the warehouse was next to the house we lived in), he would leave the television on. Every morning, I would turn the television off after he left. September 11, 2001 I didn't turn the television off.
I heard that a small plane had struck one of the towers. I went into the living room, and saw the live footage. I went outside, to see if I could see anything, but saw nothing. My husband came over, and asked what in the heck I was doing out there in my pajamas. I told him what I heard on the news. We both went back in, and watched the live news. We learned what was happening. We lived by the meadows (Meadowlands area). By the end of the day, we could see the smoke and debris across the river.
My husband became hysterical. His brother had gone out on a moving job in NYC. Where in NYC? Was it near the Towers? We didn't know. It turned out that they hadn't been in danger, but were close enough to watch the horror from the rooftop of the building.
We both remember exactly where we were and what we were doing when it happened. We'll never forget. It's like our parents knowing where they were and what they were doing when President Kennedy was assasinated. Some things you never forget.
I'll never forget. I no longer have the post-pregancy hormones. I can't blame the choking up and emotions on the hormones. I think of the cops and the firefighters who dashed in, who were crushed while doing what they did best. I knew a few. I know a survivor or two, as well. I'll never forget the sound on the news of the firefighters alarms beeping in the rubble. I look at my 8 year old son, and think "What if?" The only reason I wasn't on duty September 11, 2001 ... just a few miles from Ground Zero .... only because I was home with my baby. They wouldn't let anyone from my department go, but still .... what if?
I'm getting choked up as I write this, remembering. It wasn't just a tragedy that day. It was all the days that followed, too. The days of searching, and sifting. The days of watching the news, and the footage of the wreckage. The days of seeing the smoke and debris from where we lived.
I hope no one read this all the way through. How boring for you. But, therapeutic for me.
