5 years later
I was a passenger flying to New York one early fall morning. I had a meeting with a publicist about my book launch, which was to take place in three days time. I was excited and anxious to get there, but I fell asleep anyway.
Then came the announcement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a serious accident on the ground,†the captain reported. “We’ve been ordered to divert to another airport and wait for further instructions. We will give you more information when it is given to us. This is a nationwide order.
“At this time, I am going to insist that no one leave their seats for any reason until we open the doors. Once on the ground, you will be permitted to use your cell phones, but anyone who leaves his seat will be met by authorities.â€
Confusion swept the cabin, and I noticed worried looks on the flight attendants’ faces. They were trying to hide from the passengers their own concerns. One flight attendant clutched an ice mallet as if for self-defense. She was frightened, and she never took her eyes off the passengers.
All I could think about was the meeting I was going to miss.
We landed somewhere in Pennsylvania and were held at a remote location for 30 minutes. Many people dialed their cell phones but, because of heavy volume, only a few calls connected. The calls that did get through provided some factual information along with mild hysteria. Rumors of an airplane crashing into the World Trade Center, World War III and an assassination attempt on the president circulated throughout the cabin.
We pulled up to a gate and were met by an agent in tears.
“There has been a national tragedy,†she announced. “Commercial planes have struck certain buildings in America.†She broke down, unable to say more.
I kept trying my cell phone, but all circuits were busy. We boarded a shuttle bus to take us to the main terminal. I started to get annoyed with a hysterical woman who was crying next to me. Some people become so overdramatic when it comes to these things, I thought, as I redialed my cell phone in frustration.
When I finally got through to my wife, she burst into floods of tears. All she knew was that I was scheduled to land in New York at 9:15 a.m., four passenger planes had crashed into buildings, the World Trade Center towers had collapsed, thousands were dead and I wasn’t answering my cell phone. She was positive I had perished. Tears rushed to my eyes.
Inside the airport, I joined a crowd of people gathered around a large-screen television and watched in disbelief as the tragedy unfolded. The rest, as they say, is history. Air travel suddenly ceased, thousands perished and a nation was in shock. America was the victim of the worst terrorist attack ever.
I was somewhere in Pennsylvania and didn’t have a clue about what to do next. After two days of confusion, I managed to carpool back to the West Coast with three total strangers — a guy who chain-smoked, one who had an odor problem and another who was a know-it-all about world affairs. I spent September 15, the day of my scheduled book party, pretending I was asleep in the back of a car, feeling sorry for myself.
A set of unfortunate coincidences ran through my mind: My book had been released in bookstores the day before the attack; it was titled “The Air Traveler’s Survival Guideâ€; the cover showed a pilot parachuting out an airplane window; the publisher’s name was Impact; and I warned of terrorist activities in one of the chapters.
Oh, my God, what had I done? This was a nightmare.
Then I started to feel guilty: How could I worry about a silly book when more than 5,000 people were presumed dead? Guilt, outrage, confusion, sadness, annoyance — I was caught in a swirl of emotions.
Taking four-hour shifts at the wheel, we four travelers drove across America. Do you know how boring the roads are between Chicago and Denver? You never quite appreciate air travel until you have to drive the distance. What takes four hours by air took us four days by car.
A curious thing happened as we went along. People started flying the American flag from their cars. Signs saying “God Bless America†appeared on every digital sign and tollbooth on the roads. Ray Charles’s version of “America the Beautiful†played on every radio station. Patriotism was alive and thriving in America. From the back seat I saw everyone from truck drivers to young children wearing, waving or honoring the Stars and Stripes in some way. I was amazed and suddenly had renewed pride in being an American.
I thought of the old movie “Starman,†in which Jeff Bridges, playing an alien, says, “You humans are a peculiar and beautiful race, for you are always at your best when the times are at their worst.†How true is that?
I returned home, gave blood and cried for the next two days. My wife was furloughed from her job (she’s a pilot). We decided to tone down publicity for the book. For a while, our lives were tentative and disjointed.
In time, my wife got another pilot job and I wrote another book. As a nation, we have also recovered. But we will never forget.
Go home tonight and hug your spouse, child or pet a little tighter. You’ve made it through a tough period. Others were not as lucky.