That was my first full week of classes for PA school at Fort Sam Houston, San Antonio, TX. Classes began on Tuesdays at 0730, so I was up and on my way listening to ESPN Radio's "Mike and Mike In the Morning." Bob Piccozzi told about an injury to Broncos WR Ed McCaffrey the night before that was serious enough to end his season. There was also rampant speculation that Michael Jordan was going to announce he was coming out of retirement later that day.
I went to my first class, Chemistry. At 0820 we had our first break. A classmate of mine, who was already a nurse, was fidgeting with his Palm Pilot and the little stencil while we were all talking and snacking. He then said calmly, "Hmm, a plane crashed into the World Trade Center." Just as we were about to go back into class at 0830 (0930 NY time) he said, "Two planes crashed into the World Trade Center." Of course being military school we couldn't use cell phones or anything at the time. At 0910, we went out for our second break and the same guy said, "A plane just crashed at the Pentagon."
At this point I was getting pretty frustrated. One plane, two planes. New York, DC. The media that couldn't get the winner of Florida right twice (or maybe more, LOL?) only 10 months earlier couldn't separate NY from DC or the Trade Center from the Pentagon. I decided I didn't want to listen to anymore. But at no time did he say that these were separate incidents or indicate such. (To be fair he may not have known). So we went back in and the buzz began as people swapped notes and stories. We had a few students with family working both places.
When we broke for our 10 am break, however, it began to (for us) clear up a little bit. We put together that three planes had crashed and then began the fear - San Antonio is a military town with bases connected all over the place. What if there was more than just three hijackings? We were on the second floor of the tallest building other than the hospital on the installation. What if...what if....
After our next break when the 11 am Microbiology class began, the class advisor (a Navy Lt, as all 3 services were in a joint med school program) came to address the class. By this point in time the WTC was history and we were getting snippets of United 93. He went through the data as it was known at that time. He informed us that all traffic was grounded. And then being military we got the briefing you can expect.
We were told to expect major delays in transport the next morning as the base was going into full lockdown. All installations were going into lockdown. We were told NO EXCUSES would be accepted by anyone late the next morning, with the Lt going so far as to say, "If you have to leave your house at 330 am to get here, do it. Book a room in billeting, get a hotel right off base, spend the night with a neighbor. You will be in the Commander's office before your class if you are late."
The shock was settling in as severa students suddenly left class and began trying futiley to call their families. We were told about the suicide jumps. And then at noon the lunch hour began. It was also time for the mad dash to the phones as nobody's cell was working even in the city limits of San Antonio. Nobody could get through. Two tries then let somebody else. I remember one of the Army Rangers turning to me and saying, "This is going to be bigger than the Kennedy assassination; this will be what we remember we're 80." All of the Army Rangers - now this was touching to me - approached the school commander after class and volunteered to be withdrawn from the medical school and sent to wherever we were going to kick whoever's tail we were going to kick. Everyone TO A MAN AND WOMAN KNEW that this was the imprint of Osama Bin Laden. Hussein was not smart enough to have pulled something like this off. No other names were even mentioned. This was Bin Laden, we all knew - even though none of us had yet even seen the first video.
But then I remembered a comment that I had made that would later turn out to strike us all as strange. I told one of the Army guys, "You know, I've survived a traumatic childhood and some pretty bad things. And let me tell you - if we're going to die anyway, simply point out to your fellow passengers that we outnumber them. Rush them, kick their butts." Now before anyone lectures me let me admit - it all sounds so easy when you're not the one at stake. What if they had bombs? "If they have any intent to use them you're dead anyway. Go out with a fight." It could not have been 20 minutes later we heard the first murmurings of United 93.
As the afternoon progressed, there was a certain solemnity to that afternoon. At the afternoon break we were told that the Commerce Secretary's wife was killed at the Pentagon but had been on the plane. This actually turned out to be Solicitor General (not Commerce Secretary) Ted Olson's wife, Barbara.
As I got in my car to leave the school that afternoon at 430, I somehow knew that the moment I left the safety of the base that the world had changed forever. My trembling hands turned on WOAI and I listened to angry callers, tearful callers, determined callers, and a somber DJ. I still hadn't seen it. What else I remember that is so strange, though, is that nobody in the traffic that day (and boy was it bad) was in any hurry. People were letting others cut in slowly and it was almost like a funeral procession on the Interstate and state highways. I must have waved at 1000 people on my 12-mile trip home - many of them saluting me (noticing the uniform).
I still had not talked to my wife. Did she even know this? What did she know? Was she afraid of my safety? I'll never, ever forget that clutching embrace when I got home - how guilty I felt because I was alive yet thankful at the same time. All she kept saying was, "It's bad, it's bad." I looked at my little two-year old, who still have a cast on his leg from an accident six weeks earlier. All I thought was about how many times we had debated the wisdom of bringing a child into this absolute mess. (We had five miscarriages and only have one child - genetic issues between the two of us). Now I really questioned that.
I turned on the TV just to get a basic glimpse of the story. The buildings falling looked like something out of "Independence Day" (the movie, not the holiday). I then ate a quick bite and told my wife - to her chagrin and mine - "Well, we have a test Friday, and I have to study. Going to Borders."
I didn't really want to go, but it's how I was raised. Nuclear holocaust? Tough, you have a test Friday and you better be ready. But then I drove into the parking lot and noticed there were NO CARS there. This was surreal. Did the Rapture happen right after I left the house? What exactly was going on? I drove by the door of Borders and read the printed page - they were closed due to the terror attacks.
Good for them because I don't feel like studying. I don't feel like talking to my classmates or reviewing notes. Something just feels so wrong about this. I drove quickly back home and didn't even get my notes out of the car. This was not a day for studying. The day that began with one of those "just out of the shower fresh" 71 degree cool mornings - one of those days you just want to cry because it's not the summer heat or the snow....ended with no noise overhead. Very few cars on the streets.
It's amazing how tired you can get just being emotional. Hours after the events I could still not process them. (Ten years later, I'm still not sure I can fathom it all. In fact, I'm sure I can't). Around 7 or so, the President came on. I didn't look at the TV; I just hid under the blankets with the light out and listened. I never go to bed that early, but I did this night. I remember us holding each other and praying so incoherently. How can any one person be so scared, hurt, angry, and determined - all at the exact same time?
I remember praying that if somehow a nuclear bomb was in the hands of the wrong people that the demise at least be quick. We had just really begun to separate my son from sleeping with us, but we were suddenly afraid that if we did that one of us would live and be left alone. And none of us wanted that.
We've all slept in the same room ever since, but it didn't dawn on me until just now where it began. It was just two weeks ago that we moved him back into his own room. Which might embarrass some folks to say, but I'm not the least bit ashamed.
I went to my first class, Chemistry. At 0820 we had our first break. A classmate of mine, who was already a nurse, was fidgeting with his Palm Pilot and the little stencil while we were all talking and snacking. He then said calmly, "Hmm, a plane crashed into the World Trade Center." Just as we were about to go back into class at 0830 (0930 NY time) he said, "Two planes crashed into the World Trade Center." Of course being military school we couldn't use cell phones or anything at the time. At 0910, we went out for our second break and the same guy said, "A plane just crashed at the Pentagon."
At this point I was getting pretty frustrated. One plane, two planes. New York, DC. The media that couldn't get the winner of Florida right twice (or maybe more, LOL?) only 10 months earlier couldn't separate NY from DC or the Trade Center from the Pentagon. I decided I didn't want to listen to anymore. But at no time did he say that these were separate incidents or indicate such. (To be fair he may not have known). So we went back in and the buzz began as people swapped notes and stories. We had a few students with family working both places.
When we broke for our 10 am break, however, it began to (for us) clear up a little bit. We put together that three planes had crashed and then began the fear - San Antonio is a military town with bases connected all over the place. What if there was more than just three hijackings? We were on the second floor of the tallest building other than the hospital on the installation. What if...what if....
After our next break when the 11 am Microbiology class began, the class advisor (a Navy Lt, as all 3 services were in a joint med school program) came to address the class. By this point in time the WTC was history and we were getting snippets of United 93. He went through the data as it was known at that time. He informed us that all traffic was grounded. And then being military we got the briefing you can expect.
We were told to expect major delays in transport the next morning as the base was going into full lockdown. All installations were going into lockdown. We were told NO EXCUSES would be accepted by anyone late the next morning, with the Lt going so far as to say, "If you have to leave your house at 330 am to get here, do it. Book a room in billeting, get a hotel right off base, spend the night with a neighbor. You will be in the Commander's office before your class if you are late."
The shock was settling in as severa students suddenly left class and began trying futiley to call their families. We were told about the suicide jumps. And then at noon the lunch hour began. It was also time for the mad dash to the phones as nobody's cell was working even in the city limits of San Antonio. Nobody could get through. Two tries then let somebody else. I remember one of the Army Rangers turning to me and saying, "This is going to be bigger than the Kennedy assassination; this will be what we remember we're 80." All of the Army Rangers - now this was touching to me - approached the school commander after class and volunteered to be withdrawn from the medical school and sent to wherever we were going to kick whoever's tail we were going to kick. Everyone TO A MAN AND WOMAN KNEW that this was the imprint of Osama Bin Laden. Hussein was not smart enough to have pulled something like this off. No other names were even mentioned. This was Bin Laden, we all knew - even though none of us had yet even seen the first video.
But then I remembered a comment that I had made that would later turn out to strike us all as strange. I told one of the Army guys, "You know, I've survived a traumatic childhood and some pretty bad things. And let me tell you - if we're going to die anyway, simply point out to your fellow passengers that we outnumber them. Rush them, kick their butts." Now before anyone lectures me let me admit - it all sounds so easy when you're not the one at stake. What if they had bombs? "If they have any intent to use them you're dead anyway. Go out with a fight." It could not have been 20 minutes later we heard the first murmurings of United 93.
As the afternoon progressed, there was a certain solemnity to that afternoon. At the afternoon break we were told that the Commerce Secretary's wife was killed at the Pentagon but had been on the plane. This actually turned out to be Solicitor General (not Commerce Secretary) Ted Olson's wife, Barbara.
As I got in my car to leave the school that afternoon at 430, I somehow knew that the moment I left the safety of the base that the world had changed forever. My trembling hands turned on WOAI and I listened to angry callers, tearful callers, determined callers, and a somber DJ. I still hadn't seen it. What else I remember that is so strange, though, is that nobody in the traffic that day (and boy was it bad) was in any hurry. People were letting others cut in slowly and it was almost like a funeral procession on the Interstate and state highways. I must have waved at 1000 people on my 12-mile trip home - many of them saluting me (noticing the uniform).
I still had not talked to my wife. Did she even know this? What did she know? Was she afraid of my safety? I'll never, ever forget that clutching embrace when I got home - how guilty I felt because I was alive yet thankful at the same time. All she kept saying was, "It's bad, it's bad." I looked at my little two-year old, who still have a cast on his leg from an accident six weeks earlier. All I thought was about how many times we had debated the wisdom of bringing a child into this absolute mess. (We had five miscarriages and only have one child - genetic issues between the two of us). Now I really questioned that.
I turned on the TV just to get a basic glimpse of the story. The buildings falling looked like something out of "Independence Day" (the movie, not the holiday). I then ate a quick bite and told my wife - to her chagrin and mine - "Well, we have a test Friday, and I have to study. Going to Borders."
I didn't really want to go, but it's how I was raised. Nuclear holocaust? Tough, you have a test Friday and you better be ready. But then I drove into the parking lot and noticed there were NO CARS there. This was surreal. Did the Rapture happen right after I left the house? What exactly was going on? I drove by the door of Borders and read the printed page - they were closed due to the terror attacks.
Good for them because I don't feel like studying. I don't feel like talking to my classmates or reviewing notes. Something just feels so wrong about this. I drove quickly back home and didn't even get my notes out of the car. This was not a day for studying. The day that began with one of those "just out of the shower fresh" 71 degree cool mornings - one of those days you just want to cry because it's not the summer heat or the snow....ended with no noise overhead. Very few cars on the streets.
It's amazing how tired you can get just being emotional. Hours after the events I could still not process them. (Ten years later, I'm still not sure I can fathom it all. In fact, I'm sure I can't). Around 7 or so, the President came on. I didn't look at the TV; I just hid under the blankets with the light out and listened. I never go to bed that early, but I did this night. I remember us holding each other and praying so incoherently. How can any one person be so scared, hurt, angry, and determined - all at the exact same time?
I remember praying that if somehow a nuclear bomb was in the hands of the wrong people that the demise at least be quick. We had just really begun to separate my son from sleeping with us, but we were suddenly afraid that if we did that one of us would live and be left alone. And none of us wanted that.
We've all slept in the same room ever since, but it didn't dawn on me until just now where it began. It was just two weeks ago that we moved him back into his own room. Which might embarrass some folks to say, but I'm not the least bit ashamed.
