Angelsea Urban | Urban Studios

It took me 10 years to write this down. And I remembered every detail as if it were 10 days ago. A revisited blog post from last year’s 9/11 Anniversary. 

Yesterday just about every person said they knew exactly where they were on Sept. 11^th 2001. The day America came to a screeching halt. My husband called me to tell me “some idiot ran a plane into a building” and to turn on the news. It never turned off after we all learned exactly what that meant. After the 2nd plane hit we all realized just how vulnerable we were. Without phones or any communication I wasn’t sure when I would speak to my husband again or if he could get home. When he finally did we spent the rest of the day in a fog, waiting and watching to see what next?

But what did you do Sept. 12^th?

For those who managed to sleep that night, the first thing we did was wake up and maybe for a split second we blinked and rubbed our eyes and thought – hmmm….maybe, just maybe it was a bad dream.  Another blink or two later, and that heaviness in your heart instantly filled up again when the flood of yesterday’s events came rushing back to the forethought of your mind.

So then what?  Did you go to work that day? Go to school?  Call people you haven’t spoken to in a while?  Knowing you had a second chance at life or at least a HUGE wake up call that life is short and precious, what did you do with that gift on September 12^th?  The bigger question might be:  Are you living the life today that you thought you would on September 12^th 2001?

At the end of the day on September 11^th,I received a phone call from my supervisor at the American Red Cross. I had been trying to get in touch with her all day (cell lines and phones were down) I was desperately trying to find out where my assignment was.  I thought being an active Red Cross volunteer, I could be used somewhere and became increasingly frustrated why I didn’t have a better plan to jump in and help.  I had thoughts of jumping in the car and just driving to ground zero, but rationally I knew I could never get there.  Bridges were closed and trains were stopped.  So then what?  Like everyone else I watched the events unfold and tried to get in touch with all of my family members to be sure they were all accounted for.

FINALLY later that night it came:  my assignment.  I was so grateful that the feeling of helplessness would be gone and whatever it was they would ask me to do I’d be there before they could finish their sentence.  My assignment was to help organize, host, and work a blood drive at a local hospital.  Survivors would need blood and it was an opportunity for other members of the community to be able to contribute to something.  So many people asked, “Well what can I do?”  Here was the answer – go give some blood.  It was a small offering to make a dent in the unimaginable disaster.

For the rest of the night on September 11^th, I prepped for the morning of September 12^th blood drive.  Luckily it was not my first time doing so and although normally difficult, it wasn’t hard at all to prep, plan and execute a task of this size.  No one was busy.  No one said no.  They dropped everything. In fact all they said was, “Yes – what else can I do?”

September 12, 2001 changed the direction of my life.  During a successful blood drive, we can expect about 40 units of blood to be successfully donated.  We prepped for 140 just in case hoping people would come forward who normally wouldn’t.  We opened the doors very early but that didn’t matter.  People must have been waiting patiently for hours before I even arrived at 8 am. There was a line of donors around the hospital longer than an autograph for Justin Beiber.

When I think about the turn out now I’m even more amazed.  There was no Facebook, text messaging or twitter.  There was email, but I don’t even remember utilizing it then.  The entire Tri-State area was without phones for most of the day, so how all of those people found out about our little blood drive still blows me away.

I could describe the scene inside the hospital as if it were yesterday.  It felt like an out of body experience from start to finish.  Watching a version of myself go through the motions, setting up stations, and starting the day as I have in times past. The early parts of this day were eerily quiet.  I was thankful that in the midst of all the chaotic planning I managed to remember to bring my portable CD player (the boom box kind for you young folk).  The only bummer was that I only had one CD.  The Forest Gump Soundtrack.  One of my favorites at the time, but now reminds me of that day since it was left on repeat for a long period of time during the busyness of the event.  Any echo of Creedence Clearwater still brings me back there in an instant.

The triage of people went from station to station like zombies.  Finally after the coffee, music and sugar kicked in people started waking up.  Back to life even if it was just an ounce of the real version of them.  They started to share stories with each other and with me.  All day I heard miracle after miracle after miracle from friends and family members affected. Mostly it was stories that we have all heard through email circulation since then.  Most memorable:

1. My child’s bus was late for school and if it weren’t I would have been in the building at work on time.  But I wasn’t and I’m alive.
2. I had a simple cold but for some reason called out of work.  I should have been on the 109^th floor.
3. My car broke down.
4. My train was late.
5. I was on vacation.
6. I just didn’t feel like I should go.

And on and on and on and on those stories went.  I soaked up every one of them with eager ears.  It comforted me.  I embraced the idea of one less family without tragedy that day.

Then there were the other stories.  Of the loved ones who hadn’t been heard from yet.  From wives who kissed their husbands goodbye and off to work they went.  One woman said to me, “I’m sure he’s fine, he probably just couldn’t get to a phone yet and the trains weren’t leaving the city”.  I wanted to believe it too and I agreed with her. There were wives of Firefighters, Police Officers and EMTs.  They came in seeing the crowd outside wondering if we were a new center of information for the missing.

As the donors bonded, they planned.  They announced their declarations out loud to us of what they would do differently from now on.  They knew life would never be the same regardless and they wanted to make it count.

Throughout the day I thought about my own life.  Thinking about what really mattered when all is said and done. What would I want to do differently? At 24 I was married and had the responsibilities of a mortgage.  Being a methodical and conservative life-planner type, I made my choices and I was living them.  Although I was in the field I wanted to be in, I was miserable with my job.  I had been miserable for a long time for a number of reasons, but I was forcing myself to push through it.  I thought I needed it to further my career and was willing to be miserable to learn what I could about the business.  It’s amazing how little it all meant that day. On September 12^th, I was willing to give up my career in an instant. Like everyone else that day I reevaluated everything. I took a short break from the blood drive and made a call.  I gave my notice to resign. With no plan, no backup, no prospects, no networking, no nothing.  I only knew that I didn’t want to be miserable for another second.  Life was precious, unpredictable and could be changed at any time. It was the first time ever (and since) I jumped into something with both feet and without a net to catch me. It was petrifying and life altering.  Not because I was finally free from misery, it was because I had taken a leap of faith to make that kind of decision without regret or consequence. Most importantly it was without an ounce of fear.

At the end of the blood drive we collected more than 200 units.  I say ‘more than 200’ because we actually stopped counting after we hit 200.  It didn’t really matter.  Far exceeding the normal 40 and way more than our hopeful 140.  After we ran out of bags, we called every other local hospital and clinic to replenish our supplies. After the supplies ran out everyone stayed to help. They served drinks, cleaned up napkins and helped with paperwork.  The donors became the volunteers.  No one wanted to go home.  The community of strangers came together and wanted to stay together for as long as they could to support each other.  After 18 hours we finally disbanded and said goodbye.

In the days that followed and throughout my 2-week notice (and yes I finished every last painful minute) I never once regretted my decision.  But I did wonder if I had the guts to see it through with nothing lined up.  During the start of the second week I finally picked up a newspaper and looked in the classifieds. I called the first ad in the first paper I picked up. My last day was on a Friday and my first day with my new job was Monday.  (Unheard of even in THAT economy).  I thank God for providing and I also THANK GOD that I had a supportive husband who trusted me.

I didn’t go back into NYC for more than 2 weeks after 9/11.  Riding the train coming around that bend right before the tunnel gave me a glimpse of the new NYC skyline and it took my breath away. Draped onto the side of one of the buildings next to Ground Zero, I saw the brightest sunlight highlighting the biggest American Flag imaginable. During the next few minutes when the train went dark driving into the tunnel, that image burned sharply into my permanent memory.

So now it’s exactly 10 years later.  As we remember and reflect on how all of our lives will be forever changed by that day, let’s not forget all of those promises we also made to ourselves on September 12^th 2001.  Did you promise to take more time for your kids? Go to church?  Help a neighbor? See the world?  Reconcile with your family? Whatever those promises were then, today is a new day and a new reminder that it’s not too late to try again.

Are you living the life today that you thought you would on September 12^th 2001?

 XOXO,

Angie

UPDATED TO ADD:

A week after I wrote this original post, I updated with this post below:

Shame on me.  It took me 10 years and 10 days to visit the site since the events on 9/11.  Writing my last personal post required me to remember specific details that were still lingering in my mind.  So having an appointment in NYC already,  I knew it was time to carve out some extra time for a specific trip to visit the area.  A few quiet hours with my camera and me. Something I haven’t done in a looooong time.  Too long.

I wondered how many others would like to visit but can’t because of distance or obligations.  So this one’s for you! 🙂