September 11, 2009 | Snapshots, Solo with Others

Remnant of a Twin Tower: Newseum, Washington, D.C.

Author’s Note: This is Post 3 of 3-Post Series. Read Post 2 here.

Thursday after the final show, we hit the road at 7:30 p.m. By this time we asked the car rental representative at he show to have the mileage and drop-off fee waived and she did (as other companies eventually did). We also stopped at an AAA office for directions but unfortunately the clerk routed us THROUGH New York City. We were smart to follow detours around the city knowing roads into the Big Apple were closed.

As we circumvented New York, I noticed the bright lights in the distance and could see and smell the smoke. It’s a distinctive odor I’ll never forgot. A mix of a campfire with metal, industrial stench. And after all these years and multiple times I’ve traveled to New York since, I’ve avoided visiting Ground Zero. Don’t think I’m strong enough.

We drove to nearly midnight before calling it a night somewhere in Pennsylvania and hit the road at 7 the next morning.  Don’t know about Cham but I didn’t get any rest as I was too wired for this impromptu road trip.

The next day reaffirmed my American pride. Every other car donned an American flag in some form, people were wearing t-shirts with American flags, and homes proudly waved Old Glory.  Many wore red, white and blue ribbons tied around a safety pin and when we stopped at a Wal-Mart in small-town America for provisions (snacks, water, etc.) we looked for something patriotic to wear, yet couldn’t find anything. In a generous act, a store clerk gave us the patriotic safety pin off his chest. We cut the ribbons in half and found another safety pin so we were each wearing one.

We stopped at some airport in South Carolina to add me to the rental car contract and it was dead quiet. All the congestion was on the highway. Traffic was incredible. There were those of us trying to get home and those heading to New York to volunteer their assistance. While checking into our Savannah hotel at 11:30 p.m. ish (yes, the day began at 7 a.m. and I begged Cham to stop earlier) we met a couple of nurses driving up to help.

Coming into Florida we stopped at the Florida I-95 Welcome Center, posed for photos and drank our free orange juice before driving the last few hours home.

Pulling into Tampa International Airport was strange. All around us cars were pulling in and drivers were announcing where they had drove from.

“I just drove from Chicago.”

“I’m coming in from Las Vegas.”

Oh, the stories we could have all told if we sat and grabbed a cold beer to share our adventures. But the week of 9/11 wasn’t the time to make new friends, it was time to hug and appreciate the ones we loved in our lives at that moment and simply embrace life.

Solo with Others

Newspaper Headlines following Sept. 11, 2001: Newseum in Washington, D.C.

Author’s Note: This is Post 2 in a 3-Post Series. Read Post 1 here.

While this was happening during my day, my now friend Cham was on her way to the road show flying from Tampa to Providence, Rhode Island, but her flight was grounded in Philadelphia as all flights were immediately grounded by the FAA. Rather than expressing concern on how to get home, the dedicated worker found a way to get to Rhode Island: she lied.

She went to a rental car counter and said she had a reservation. The clerk couldn’t find it. “I know I made the reservation,” she said convincingly.

“I’m giving you the last car,” the clerk replied, and she did. Unfortunately, the car rental companies at this time were charging renters by the mile as compared to unlimited miles and were charging one-way drop off fees.

Of course Cham didn’t have a reservation, she was supposed to land in Providence. Cars were scarce because everyone was trying to find a way home due to suspended air travel. As she describes it, picking up the car was like looking at a picked over Thanksgiving Day turkey with all that’s left is the bones and a scrap of meat. The parking lot was empty with the exception of the little car sitting in the middle. It had four wheels – and not much else. While the rest of us were holed up in our hotel rooms and eventually at the show, Cham was driving to meet up with us and she arrived just before 10 p.m.

The next day was Wednesday, Sept. 12, and we drove to our next destination and there was something wrong with Cham’s car. It smelled of and was leaking fuel. At this point, we had decided we were  driving back to Florida (from New England) at the end of the show series but a car leaking fuel wasn’t going to make it. Cham returned the rental and exchanged it for another car. Ironically, or maybe it was destiny, the car had been driven only once. It had a Florida license plate and based in Tampa, our destination.

I couldn’t think of anyone else to share this patriotic road trip with. Cham and I really didn’t know each other when we hopped in that car and headed south but by the end of the trip, she’s become one of my most cherished friends and I can always hear her distinctive laugh when I think of her.

Continued with the Post: “Patriotic Road Trip: September 11″

Solo with Others

Sept. 11 Exhibit at Washington, D.C.'s Newseum

Author’s Note: This is Post 1 of a 3-Post Series.

Few triggers break me down and 9/11 is one of them. Eight years ago day I was in a hotel in Peabody, Mass. It was a Tuesday and as I was getting ready for breakfast, NBC’s The Today Show played in the background. Matt Lauer broke with the news of a plane crashing into one of the World Trade Center towers. I headed down to the restaurant and met up with the rest of the group I was traveling with. (It was a travel industry road show and I was traveling with other tourism destinations along with car rental, hotel and airline representatives and we were presenting to New England travel agents during the evening.)

I asked if anyone else heard the news of a plane crashing into the building and immediately the restaurant’s television was turned to CNN. We speculated whether it was a tourist sightseeing plane badly off course or a terrorism hijacking gone terribly bad.

Back in the room preparing for my departure, NBC still provided information and I watched in horror as I saw the second plane hit the second World Trade Center building. Definitely an act of terrorism.

I called my then husband to tell him what was happening (since he lived in a national park and news was limited). I was crying out of fear and confusion and couldn’t get in touch with him but left a message with the lodge’s receptionist. I then called my parents – crying – and spoke to my father who told me things would be okay and offered to come get me wherever I was. That’s what dads do.

What happened during the next few hours is a bit fuzzy but I vividly recall riding on the bus heading to our next stop in Rhode Island and receiving intermittent updates. We were told a plane crashed in the Pennsylvania field and was told Washington, D.C., was under attack. For the first time I heard about the Taliban and Al Queda.

The big question was, do we move forward with that evening’s dinner and trade show? Many of us said, “no,” we weren’t in the mood to talk to travel agents when our country was under attack and family, friends, and colleagues of many of the participants were dying in the Twin Towers. But the organizer told us travel will not stop, the country will get through this and the show must go on. And it did. Besides, flights were suspended indefinitely and we couldn’t get back to Florida.

Immediately upon entering that evening’s hotel room, I called the office to check in and my boss was surprised the show was progressing. “You all should hold hands and sing kumbaya,” she said.

Sitting on my hotel bed I was glued to the television watching live feeds of the World Trade Center and looking back, I know that was a mistake. I watched as people jumped from the towers to their death and couldn’t imagine the horror and hell they were escaping to think plummeting from tens of stories would be better than hoping to find a way out. As I know now, there was no way out for thousands. Most disturbing was watching the Twin Towers collapse.
As the day unfolded and although I was sharing a significant day in history with a group of people I barely knew, I felt completely alone in the world and 9/11 triggered a re-evaluation of my life.

About 40 travel agents showed up that evening, compared to the anticipated 100. The floor was light with chatter and presentations were kept to a minimal. The show went on.

Continued with the Post: “Lying for a Ride: September 11″