9/11: 5 years onward
Out of context: Reply #47
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- Duane0
On 9/11 I was in the air on my way home from a press check for the Wolfenstein tins in Hong Kong. I anxiously watched the tiny blip of our plane move across the world map towards San Francisco and prepared my camera to take shots of the Golden Gate Bridge as we came in for a landing. As we began to approach the ground, I was confused to instead see lush green mountains and Air Canada. The Chinese couple next to me was excited to see San Francisco but I had to break it to them that this was not it. As it turned out, we were in Vancouver, BC. As we sat on the runway watching other international jets line up behind us, a fellow passenger got a phone call. It was his mother in New York saying that the WTC had just been attacked.
The news spread quickly through the plane while the stewardesses quietly handed out headsets to all of the passengers. The captain's voice came over the loud speaker asking us to tune in to the news. As I put on my headset, I heard news of the second plane striking the WTC. All of a sudden, the world turned upside down.
After sitting on the tarmac for four hours with no food or drink, we were finally allowed to debark. I was told all of my checked baggage would be impounded leaving me with no toiletries or clothes besides the shorts and t-shirt I was wearing and a bag containing teas and a tea set I picked up in China. At first, it appeared to be another day at another airport but slowly the building filled up with people. Lines 200 people deep were forming at all of the pay phones. We were directed upstairs, downstairs and no one knew what was going on. All of a sudden an announcement rang through the building stating that all of the people in the airport needed to leave to make room for the other international passengers that needed to debark. Confused, I was ushered out the door into a brisk BC evening.
A lady at the door says, "You can get on a van here and try to make it across the border to the US but we don't know if the border is open."
I stare dumbfounded.
She then says, "The other option is to get on this other van and head to a church in Vancouver to spend the night on a church pew."
Neither of these sounds very good to me. At the same moment, out of the corner of my eye I see a business man I met in the smoking lounge in the Hong Kong airport talking on a pay phone. I run over and overhear him finishing up a hotel reservation confirmation. I quickly ask him to see if there are any more vacancies.
He says, "There is one more room."
"I'll take it!", I exclaim.
The business man hangs up and offers that I share a ride with him to the hotel. Looking for a friend in this strange time, I take him up on his kindness. We run into a business woman from Singapore (also from the Hong Kong smoking lounge) and she is also heading to the same hotel. The car arrives, a limo no-less, and we all get in. The driver turns on a TV in the back of the car and I see what happened for the first time. I'm totally shocked. What's next? How do I get home?
I get to the hotel and check in for a night and then instantly head out to replace my toiletries. People from all walks of life are all over the streets due to the influx of stranded international passengers. There is a kindness and concern in everyone's face. I head back to my hotel and begin an endless stream of phone calls to see when the next flight out will be. Finally, I book a flight. After a long sleepless night glued to the TV and talking on the phone, I am anxious to get home to my wife and routine. No luck, the flight is cancelled. I extend my hotel stay by one more night and then head out to buy some warm clothes as the shorts aren't going to cut it in this weather.
This routine continues for 6 days, each day I get more and more desperate and concerned about how I'm going to explain paying for all of this. "Thank goodness it's a business trip". I begin talking with locals and other stranded passengers. Maybe we can rent a car and drive into the US? No, they are all rented. Maybe we can ride a train? No, it's booked for days. Maybe we can take a ferry into Seattle and then find transportation from there? Maybe we should all go in together and buy a car? The ideas run the gamut, but nothing really ever materializes - all the while, flights continue to be booked and cancelled. I wander the streets at night and talk to kind strangers. I see candle light vigils and people crying in the streets. It's all a bit much when you are by yourself.
Finally, I get some advice that flights are leaving from Seattle - it's just a matter of getting there. I book a flight for the following day with no idea of how I'll get there. I call everyone I know for help and finally, my father gets in touch with a distant relative who lives outside of Seattle who agrees to drive to Vancouver and pick me up. This kind woman drives hours to get me and then takes me to a long line of cars headed across the border into the US.
After waiting an hour, our turn with the border inspection arrives. The border guards search my bag alerting to the kraft paper wrapped bags of tea and the tea set. After a moment's panic, they realize what they are seeing and signal us to drive on through. We finally arrive in Seattle at the hotel I have booked next to the airport - there's no way I'm missing this damn plane. I go to grab my bag from the trunk of the car and am shocked by what I see. The border guards have left a 7" Buck Knife on top of my bag (apparently, the same knife they used to open my paper bags of tea)! These guys armed me on my way into the country.
I barely sleep that night and wake up early to deal with the bullshit at the airport. I walk into the airport and see a long line at the check-in counter that wraps around the corner. I walk around the corner and see that it wraps yet another corner. This continues and I find myself at the end of a mile long serpentine line of people. After a lot of waiting with confused, scared people we finally get on the plane and I eventually get home.
I've never been so happy to be home. That week and a half, I gained an appreciation for life and what I had that I never could have imagined. The smallest things seemed so impossibly uncertain in that time. My story really isn't all that interesting or dramatic - and certainly nothing as tragic as that of many on that day - but that day changed my life just as it did so many others. My story is just another story in the dense fabric of that day - another drop in a big bucket. It was a day that people everywhere seemed to come together. Cold stares on the streets turned into kind smiles and sympathetic glances from strangers.
9/11 is for me, now and forever a day of remembrance for all of those who lost loved ones as well as a day of thanksgiving for all that I have.