Where Were You on September 11?
The sunshine made me blink as I parked my car at the dollar store, stopping to buy cleaning products. I was living in downtown Indianapolis in an old restored hotel, working at a program called EQUIP. Not only was it my first year of college, but it was one of the hardest years of my life, living with juvenile delinquents assigned by the court and discovering more of who I really was under pressure.
The first two months of the year had been intensive training like a boot camp, where we had to go everywhere with our teammates. After that I was assigned to work with another experienced leader, and a juvenile, Emily. Emily was a very troubled child whose emotions would get so out of control that she had to be put into physical restraints to not harm herself or us. The three of us lived in a little hotel-like room on the 8th floor.
Recently I had been transferred to a new assignment: living with an orphan from Russia had been found hiding out at a train station. She spoke no English, and was very traumatized from the whole experience. She would go to live at the Russian orphanage as soon as they were ready for her. So Valia came to live with me, another leader (who did not want to be there), and a Russian translator (who REALLY did not want to be there). To make the transition easier for her, we gave her plenty of time to rest, and mostly stayed inside the hotel suite.
During EQUIP I had only two weeks off for the whole year. Even though I was living twenty minutes from home, I couldn’t go home and hardly ever saw my family. But celebrating their 20th anniversary was cause to take a couple of days off. They took a special trip to Bern, Indiana, while my Grandmother stayed with my sister (12 years old), and my baby brother who was one and a half.
I took off two days, driving home to get my grandmother and take her home, and then stopping at the dollar store for cleaning supplies. I was enjoying my bit of freedom after being cooped up in that hotel room for over a month. At Equip we were also taught how to clean—five-star hotel style. And my parents were going to come home to a spotless place—my present to them, since money was non-existent in my life. My sister was watching my brother, and I was already thinking about what I would make for lunch.
The mood in the store was a pensive and quiet, but I was too busy planning to notice. In the checkout line I heard random snippets of conversation: “What is going on?” “Is it really that bad?” Strangers were talking to each other, and they seemed concerned. It wasn’t until the cashier said, “They say it is the end of the world—they say this is war.” I stopped. People had died. Something horrible was going on. I didn’t know what it was but I wanted to get home as soon as possible. I paid and walked out, unable to say anything: was it really the end of the world?
Our family didn’t have a TV. We’d found that life is a little better with less time in front of it. These were the days when Internet connection still made sounds and beeps that made you think of the future, but not see it yet. When I got home, I pulled an old radio out of the closet and tried to find a news station. Something about a tower. Wait. Something about a second tower. My sister and I sat in front of the radio, holding our breath. I watched her eyes get big.
The day seemed full of little puzzle pieces, each one bringing us a bit more information about what was going on. My friend Becky walked by on her way to school—she said all they would do in class was watch the news. Everything was stopping. They said it might be war. It was the end of the world as we know it. I was finally able to get a hold of my parents. Dad said to fill the car up with gas, because who knew what would happen. I told him I’d just gotten gas, and I didn’t want to leave home. My parents decided to wait until they had further news, things seemed safe, and then come home early.
I began to methodically clean the house. Make lunch. Do everything you are supposed to do but don’t even realize you are doing because your mind is somewhere else. People had died. Things would never be the same. I don’t remember what happened the day before September 11, or the day after. But I can still hear the cashier saying, “They say it is the end of the world—they say this is war.”