No one that knows me well will ever accuse me of having a
great memory. But, like so many other people,
my personal experiences on September 11, 2011 are forever frozen vividly in my mind. Moreover, the experience guides my actions today.
It all starts off with what
appears to be the most common collective experience – an absolutely beautiful
day with the most striking blue sky. I
first noticed the sky as I drove on the George Washington Parkway right near CIA
complex on my way to my office in the then Qwest building in the Ballston area
of Fairfax.
It is pretty blank from
that moment to the moment that Amy, my wife, called me in a bit of a panic. With tremendous concern she told me that a
plane had hit one of the World Trade Center towers. My first thoughts, apparently the same as the
President of the United States of America, were that a small plan accidently
hit the building. I started surfing the
Web for more information. A bit later, she
called me back and her voice had a disturbing tone and panicky quavers - the
second plane hit WTC Tower 2. That was
the moment when we all knew that something was much more terribly amiss.
I left my office and
entered the small conference room associated with my boss, James F. X.
Payne. There was a meeting going on, but
I do not remember the others in the room.
I told them that there was something going on, and turned on the
television in the room. The confusion
and impact of the intrusion faded as the world-wide coverage of the event has
already started. We watched the fires
and smoke rise from the buildings.
I remember thinking and discussing
the damage to the buildings. As people
also know about me, I am an eternal optimist.
If the glass if half-full, the other half is full of humidity. My non-professional assessment was that the structural
damage to the building would not cause the buildings to fail, and that
eventually the buildings would be restored.
I was right about the structure but completely wrong about the impact of
the fires. The fate of the building and
over two thousand people was already sealed.
While all the events in
New York were unfolding, there was a news report on the TV that a loud noise
was heard near the Pentagon. There was
little known, except that it started the mass exodus of people from their place
of work to their homes.
I had a meeting setup with
Jim Johnson from Time Warner Telecom (now tw telecom). It seems a bit ridiculous that we kept the
meeting. Traffic in the area around
Ballston was in gridlock, so going home immediately was not an option. I left my office building and walked across
the street to the outdoor seating area in front of a building where Jim was
waiting. Luckily, I was able to call Amy
on my mobile phone, and she told me that all flights have been grounded but
that there was at least one other plane that was thought to be in hijackers
controls. I can only assume that this
was Flight 93. Every now and then, I
searched the sky, but by that time there were no planes anywhere to be
seen. I do not remember at all what Jim
and I talked about, but I am sure that we discussed the day’s events as we best knew
them, some business, and thoughts about how to get back to normalcy.
An hour or so later, I
started my trek home, north on Glebe Road towards the Chain Bridge. Traffic was horrible, but it moved. I wanted to get over the Potomac as quickly
as possible, so when I had the decision to go on Chain Bridge Road to the
George Washington Parkway and then onto the American Legion Bridge or take the
Chain Bridge into the District, I chose to cross the Chain Bridge.
Going over the bridge,
there is only a single legal option. That
is to make a right turn onto Canal Road – or more specifically for me, the
wrong direction. In an uncharacteristic act
of traffic defiance – I took the opportunity to make an illegal left turn, onto
an essentially empty Clara Barton Parkway and then quickly home.
After that my memory has
faded. I only wanted to know that my
family was safe at home. I had
significant difficulty calling my mother due to the impact of the Towers
destroying the Verizon Central Office near Ground Zero.
Home, I remember
firing-off an email that outlined my impression that radical Islam had replaced
Communism as the new rallying cry of the despot looking to achieve power and
overthrow civilization. Living near
Washington, D.C., periodically, military jets noisily swooshed over my
neighborhood. I now pass a Patriot Missile Battery nearly
every day on my way to work.
A somewhat humorous event
happened the next day. All the schools were closed, and Amy arranged
for Seth to have a play date with someone from school. The
house was in Avenel, a beautiful and upscale community near our home. In fact, it was in “the” Avenel house. The play date was uneventful, but Seth came
home and asked two questions. First, “Daddy,
why don’t we have a fountain in the driveway”, and the second “Why doesn’t our
house have an elevator”?
Here are some final
recollections of the days after the event.
The first was that I was glad that my father, Howard J. Kaplow of
Blessed Memory was not in a condition to fully understand what had
happened. As a veteran of World War II,
he did not have to add to his memories of the attack on Pearl Harbor and the
violence he experienced as a soldier in Europe.
Next, the Qwest building
in Ballston has a glass wall that rises from the 13th to the 14th
floor facing north. On a normal day, a
plane every 30 seconds or so would pass on their way to Regan National Airport. With air traffic grounded, I remember looking
out and wondering when the planes would fly again.
Finally, I recall was
that for several nights I went to sleep praying and hoping that somehow I had
the capability to change events.
Alas, changing events of
the past is impossible. The passing of a
great man and friend two weeks ago reinforced what we all must do. Live every day as it is the most important
day of our lives, focusing our energy on our family and friends. For so many families, the events of 10 years
ago cannot be changed, and for them and the thousands of Service Men and Women
that keep us safe, their families will never be the same.
The impact of the event,
and its consequences drove into me something that guides my actions at work,
particularly since most of my effort is to support the government, generally in
the area of national defense. I believe
that for every action taken, for every dollar spent, and for every process
followed you have to ask two questions:
- Is what we are doing protecting the United States of America?
- Is what we are doing to help us protect our soldiers and help them get the bad guys?
God Bless You. And God Bless America.
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