The End of the Innocence

Remember when the days were long
And rolled beneath a deep blue sky

I remember how quiet September 11th, 2001 was, even before the awful events of that day unfolded. The trip into the office was quiet, beautiful and sunlit in downtown Pittsburgh.

I got a call from my brother shortly after the first plane went in, and all he could tell me was that the top the tower was engulfed in smoke. He said they were reporting on television that it was a small aircraft but couldn’t be sure. I immediately fired up MSNBC.com and saw very fuzzy pictures on the site’s front page. I couldn’t tell by them how big the gash in the building was, or anything more than a plane had hit. I had no reason to believe anything other than what my natural, naive inclination was at the time: It’s just an accident. A navigational error by a small aircraft or (maybe) even a jet.

O beautiful, for spacious skies
But now those skies are threatening

My brother called about 15 minutes later to tell me that he saw the second plane hit live. There was panic in his voice. I immediately joined millions of other Americans in reaching the conclusion that we were under attack by terrorists. I remember walking outside my office and telling two or three people what had happened, in complete shock and with such a sense of helplessness. I walked back in to my office, closed my door, and completely lost my composure. I cried for about a minute, realizing what we had just lost. Realizing that hundreds or thousands may die. Believing that it’s definitely not over yet.

I remember how slow the Internet became. I went to websites trying to find out information because we didn’t have a television in our offices. Each attempt to view a website only increased the delay in pulling up a page. It was the first time I ever saw the “This page is under heavy load. Only some content will be displayed.” It’s the first time I ever saw such a phenomenon without connectivity issues of any kind.

I remember being afraid, albeit somewhat irrationally, when I heard a hijacked plane was in the Pittsburgh area. The higher floors of the Grant building, while exposed, seemed like an unlikely target. I think we all felt like targets that day…

A group of us eventually went upstairs to another office to watch in horror as the towers fell, and the impacts on the Pentagon and Shanksville. I remember the wild rumors of the day that spread through our office. Bombs blew up the Capital and the Supreme Court building. A plane hit the Sears tower in Chicago. And all of us, in shock, believing it could be true.

I remember walking up to the Civic Arena to get my car after we were dismissed from work. Seeing police and military in riot gear with machine guns outside government buildings. People openly weeping in the streets all the while warily eyeing the sky, looking for jets.

Getting home, my brother, Stretch, and House watched the events unfold for hours and hours. We scarcely moved, believing and unbelieving in what we saw.

Who knows how long this will last
Now we’ve come so far, so fast
But, somewhere back there in the dust
That same small town in each of us
I need to remember this

I remember wanting to go to the nearest church, which was just a mile or so down the road. I don’t even know the name or denomination to this day, but we went inside at about 9:00 at night. It was wide open, yet no one seemed to be there. House and Stretch came with, but remained at the back of the very dark chapel. I sat in a pew toward the front and prayed for those who died, those who were left behind, and for the hard days ahead for America.

I remember, most of all, the clear sky that night as we walked out. I wiped tears away and looked up to a sky none of us had ever beheld. A sky with no moving objects. No planes of any kind.

I remember the sky…

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