VOICES OF SEPTEMBER 11
Personal memories of a day that changed America
September 11, 2001 is part of our national history, but it is also a collection of deeply personal memories.
These accounts preserve what people saw, felt, and carried forward from that day.
“I Listened. I Survived. I Serve.”
On September 11, 2001, I was at the Pentagon Dental Clinic when I learned America was under attack. Leaving the clinic, three times I started toward the corridor and wing later destroyed by American Airlines Flight 77. Each time, something told me to turn around. To this day, I believe God was saying, “Return to your office in Crystal City.”
I listened.
Minutes after arriving, two majors told me the Pentagon had been hit. From our 12th-floor windows, we watched black smoke rise.
Later, I saw F-16s patrolling Washington and felt angry and powerless that enemy action had brought fighters over my nation’s capital.
Twenty-five years later, I remember one lesson above all: sometimes strength is found in listening.
I listened. I survived. I serve. From Protector to Servant.
“That Was No Accident”
My wife and I were waiting for our ride to the airport the morning of 9/11. We were scheduled to fly from DFW to LaGuardia Airport in NYC, where we would change for a flight to Barcelona, Spain, to board a ship for a Mediterranean cruise.
I was watching the Today show on NBC—they were interviewing Jack Welch, at that time the CEO of General Electric—when they broke away for a news flash about an airplane that had crashed into the World Trade Center. I turned to my wife and said, “That was no accident!”
About that time, our friend arrived to drive us to the airport. We didn’t know what to do, so we went as planned. On the way to the airport, we heard about the second WTC crash, and the one that crashed into the Pentagon. When we got to the airport, I checked with American Airlines—they said all planes were grounded and to return home and wait for announcements.
Needless to say, our flights and cruise were cancelled, and the world as we knew it had changed forever.
The Hallway of Heroes
During my service in the U.S. Air Force in the late 1970s and early 1980s, I maintained a wind transmitter on the roof of the Pentagon near the Helipad. Reaching it required navigating a maze of stairwells and long hallways, including one that passed through the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA). That hallway was lined with portraits and brief biographies of little-known American heroes who had given their lives serving our nation in Clandestine Service going back to the Revolutionary War. Whenever I had time, I would stop and read their stories. They left an impression on me.
On September 11, 2001, that hallway and its portraits were destroyed when American Airlines Flight 11 struck the Pentagon near the Helipad. More tragically, seven DIA patriots lost their lives. A little-known homage to our American history, one that cannot be replaced, was also lost.
The portraits that I speak about within the DIA hallways of the Pentagon influenced me in the work I have conducted over the past decade.
“No Sir, It Is an Honor”
I was in Northern Virginia with my family the evening of 9/10. I was due to meet with the “Colonel’s Group” at the Pentagon the following morning to discuss a follow-on assignment, then fly to DMAFB in Tucson to out-brief a Safety Investigation of a Class A incident for which I had been the Board President.
On the morning of 9/11, I was at home when the first aircraft hit the North Trade Tower. I was on the freeway (I-95) headed north to the Pentagon when the second plane hit the South Tower. Shortly after passing the Beltway on I-395, I spotted a plume of smoke ahead of me and heard of the Pentagon impact. I knew then that I wasn’t going to a meeting at the Pentagon, nor flying to Tucson that day.
I diverted to return to Dover AFB, where I met with base senior leadership in the Command Post and we learned what details were available at the time. The next day, since the Port Mortuary at Dover had been designated to process remains and evidence from the attack, I was appointed the Senior USAF liaison for the investigation and repatriation of the remains from the Pentagon.
We set up a system for remains to be identified as evidence, with chain-of-custody tracking, through refrigerated trucks, transloaded onto CH-47s at Fort Belvoir, then airlifted to Dover and transferred to the mortuary. I worked with multiple agencies—federal, state and local, civilian and military—for over three to four weeks performing the tasks associated with identification and processing of the remains.
It changed my life in that I witnessed autopsy procedures I had never imagined I would, including those of some of my neighbors that I personally knew. I was also then deployed as the Expeditionary Group Commander, headquartered at Rhein-Main AB, Germany, running the airlift operations into Afghanistan. It was a traumatic time, but I could never have been prouder of all of the young men and women who stepped up and performed their duties—sometimes for 24 hours without a break—with dedication and commitment and never a word of complaint.
It was well into the second week of recovery at Dover and I went out to meet the helicopter coming in from Fort Belvoir. The base Chaplain came along as he was a vital piece in helping to boost morale among those performing some terrible and traumatizing tasks. The recovered remains were beginning to reek with a very bad stench and odor and the Chaplain commented to one of the helicopter crew members that this must be becoming a very difficult duty to perform. Without blinking an eye, the crewmember responded, “No sir, it is an honor.”
The memories still stick with me to this day and it is sometimes difficult to talk about those experiences, but they both were two of the worst and best assignments I was ever asked to perform while on active duty.
A Call to Serve Again
Twenty-five years ago, I was at Nikon headquarters just off the Long Island Expressway (LIE), preparing for a meeting, when the screams began and people rushed into conference rooms to watch the unimaginable unfolding in New York City. The disbelief and emotion were overwhelming.
Soon, businesses along the LIE were ordered to close. Westbound lanes became a lifeline for first responders and equipment; eastbound lanes carried those evacuating the injured. Unable to travel, Nikon management and I arranged expedited repair support for military customers.
Yet, through the confusion, one thought stayed with me: I wanted to return to active duty and serve my country again.
A Life Redirected by 9/11
Having recently given up command of an Army Reserve CH-47 unit and transferred to an Air Guard C-130 unit, I was at Vance AFB attending an abbreviated version of UPT when 9/11 happened. On my way to the flight line, my mom called and said, “Turn on the TV!” We watched in horror as the second plane hit, and then the third at the Pentagon, and then in Pennsylvania.
Vance AFB was on lockdown, U.S. airspace was shut down, and my brother’s wedding in Oklahoma City four days later meant key players—from parents to the best man—had to drive from both coasts to make it. About half the invitees couldn’t catch their flights; since I was an hour’s drive away, I could join them.
The airline furloughed me. After abbreviated UPT and C-130 training at Little Rock, I ended up on so many activations and deployments to support Operations Noble Eagle, Enduring Freedom, and Iraqi Freedom that the airline no longer was required by law to hold the job for me. My last flight was out of Baghdad, and I left the Guard to obtain my master’s at AU, with a thesis proposing a strategy for successful departure from Iraq.
This led to an Air Force Reserve IMA position at CENTCOM J-5 Strategy, then a civil sector position in J2 Plans. Lieutenant General Clapper, the Director of National Intelligence, directed the community to come up with a post-9/11 plan to ensure Air Domain Awareness (ADA), and I was recruited to join an organization in the National Capital Region where I led interagency working groups to develop the initial strategy.
Later, I collaborated on ADA as an FAA employee and helped support the National ATC Operations Center. As Chief, Air Intelligence Integration Branch at ODNI, I was the final ADA planner and helped stand up an office that provided enterprise-wide Air Domain Awareness capability that still serves our country today.
Childhood dreams of being an airline pilot may have been deterred, though I am grateful that I’ve been able to support our country in ways that keep my colleagues, friends, and family safe from future threats in the air domain.
Connections, Remembrance, and a Generation Changed
On the morning of 9/11, I walked down the hall from my office located 10 minutes from Hartsfield-Jackson Airport in Atlanta. Several co-workers were gathered around a TV. I saw the reports of the attacks on the towers. On my way home, I saw no airplanes flying in or out of the airport.
My brother worked in New York. With phone service down, I could not reach him. Twelve hours later, he called me. My brother and his business partner walked 40 city blocks to his partner’s apartment. Hours later, my brother reached his New Jersey home.
In the days following those tragic events, I learned of personal connections to 9/11. A college classmate died on the flight that hit the Pentagon. A family member of another college classmate lost her life in the tower. The son of one of my cousins attended elementary school near the tower. A heroic teacher marched that boy and his classmates away from danger. A former co-worker and his associates were scheduled to fly from LaGuardia to Dallas. With all flights cancelled, they rented a car and drove nearly 1,600 miles back to Dallas. A man who was about to join our company took a vacation in Europe. His return flight ended up in Nova Scotia on 9/11, where he was stuck for several days. My granddaughter was born the spring after 9/11. She would become part of the 9/11 class.
On a Saturday night after 9/11, I was in line at a Publix Supermarket. Ahead of me stood Bobby Cox, the future Baseball Hall of Fame manager of the Atlanta Braves. 9/11 impacted the Major League Baseball season.
In the years following 9/11, I witnessed reminders of that tragic day. I saw remnants from 9/11 at the George W. Bush Presidential Center in Dallas. In Pennsylvania, I walked the hallowed ground where brave Americans forced the landing of Flight 93. I also toured the 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York.
Tragic events mark American history. Those of us who lived during those events never forget where we were. My father often told me where he was when he learned that Japan attacked Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941. I was in an eighth-grade science class on November 22, 1963, when an assassin’s bullet killed President Kennedy. 9/11 is seared in the memory of all who lived through that time.
Standing Watch
I was assigned from 2000–2003 to the Central Intelligence Agency as the Associate Director for Military Support, and on the morning of September 11 I was in the morning staff meeting when the first plane hit the North Tower. There was talk of an accident, but there was not a cloud in the sky on the East Coast, so as an aviator, I was sure it was no accident. When the second plane hit the South Tower a few minutes later, there was no doubt that this was a deliberate and coordinated attack on America.
CIA Director George Tenet evacuated the two seven-story office towers, sending non-essential workers home and dispersing the rest to low-lying buildings on the campus. I picked up a STU-3 secure phone from my office, found a desk and phone jack, and was able to make contact with the NORAD Watch Commander in Cheyenne Mountain, so I had some situational awareness of what played out over the rest of the day.
Some of my heroes from that day include the men and women of the Counterterrorism Center who declined the Director’s direction to disperse because they knew who our attacker was—Osama bin Laden and al-Qaeda—and they knew they would be at the center of our response in the following hours.
We settled into a watch routine and concentrated on developing an intelligence picture for the President, which Director Tenet provided in the early afternoon to Vice President Cheney.
I don’t recall when I went home that evening, but it was around midnight. We lived on Andrews AFB, and I normally would have come down the George Washington Parkway across the Anacostia River, but for some reason I took the 495 Beltway across the Potomac. There was little traffic, but I remember seeing a tanker truck stalled on the Wilson Bridge, and it made me very nervous.
Since Andrews is the home of Air Force One, which had returned just a few hours earlier with the President, it was no surprise to find it locked down tight with several armored vehicles at the front gate. Even with my three-star ID, it took some time to get through the gate at midnight.
When I got to the house, I stood outside for a few minutes. It was absolutely silent except for faint jet noise. I could see the lights of two aircraft orbiting overhead, which turned out to be F-16s from the D.C. Air National Guard standing watch. It was a reassuring sight.
“It Looks Like We Are at War”
I was at work in a SCIF at Raytheon, and I had just finished an early morning staff meeting and was headed to my desk. Because I was a Senior Manager at the time, I was one of the few that had an unclassified computer on my desk, even though we were in classified spaces. When someone said that the WTC had a plane fly into it, I immediately pulled up Fox News.
I decided that I wanted to see a television, not my computer, so I went outside the SCIF to a break area that had a television. In a space designed to hold about 20 people, well over 100 were gathered. Shortly after that the second plane hit the South Tower, and I remember saying, to no one in particular, “It looks like we are at war.”
Several folks said, “Surely not,” as they thought it was just another terrorist attack. I reminded them that the last time the United States had been attacked on our own soil and had experienced this much loss of life was Pearl Harbor, and that we were at war the next day on December 8, 1941.
The room got pretty quiet for the next hour, and it wasn’t until we heard that the FAA had grounded all flights that folks began to disperse. I remember calling my brothers and several friends who regularly flew on Raytheon business. None of the folks I regularly associated with had been in the air that day, but Raytheon did lose 13 employees that day, mostly on the flights that were heading west. Shortly afterwards, Raytheon implemented additional flight requirements that limited the number of employees that could be on any single flight. Also, for a short time, the corporate jets were made available for senior managers’ travel.
“Land Immediately”
I was en route from McKinney to Bloomington, Illinois, fat, dumb and happy at 12,000 feet, about an hour or so from my destination. Suddenly, the radio came alive with a transmission I had never heard before: “All aircraft this frequency, you are to land immediately. Repeat, land immediately. This is a National Airspace Emergency. Clearances to follow.”
Huh!!!! WFTO….
I listened for my call sign in the stream of instructions, which started with airliners and corporate jets near Kansas City. “Mooney 252 Mike Lima, Kansas City Center. Cleared direct to land Topeka. Descend and maintain 4,000. Expedite descent and make best speed to Topeka Regional. Contact Topeka approach on 123.8. Acknowledge.”
After repeating the clearance, I entered Topeka Regional into my GPS and turned northwest toward the airport while the system calculated the range and bearing/heading. At the time, I was about 20 miles southeast of Kansas City and Topeka was about 45 miles away.
The controller acknowledged my transmission. I had no idea what was happening and could hear all the airline pilots asking why they were being diverted. The controllers said the U.S. airspace was being shut down, and the first thing I thought of was we were at war.
My Mooney was indicating about 240 knots when I leveled off and Topeka Approach radioed to tell me to report field in sight. I was directed to land on their short, 7,000-foot(!) runway and taxied to the FBO, which is now part of the Millionaire chain. It was about 8:40ish Central Time when I walked into the FBO and the employees were all looking at TV sets. It was then I saw the footage of 767s hitting the towers. More airplanes were landing by the minute.
I remember dialing my brother, whose office was on the 24th floor of Tower 1. No answer. I called his wife. Couldn’t get through. Frustrated, I called my wife and got voice mail. She was at work and I left a message. For some reason, I went to the Hertz counter and rented whatever they had and called a local Marriott Courtyard and reserved a room. By 10, the ramp was full of corporate jets and the terminal area had more airliners than I could count.
The FBO was packed with executives who wanted to get back to their companies. They were all trying to find rental cars, hotel rooms, etc. It was chaotic and the local hotels were full. I bugged out in my rental car, checked into the hotel and spent the rest of the morning watching TV. The next day, I went back to the FBO and picked up three guys who wanted to go back to Dallas. A week later, I drove back to Topeka in the rental car and picked up my plane.
Finally, around three Central time, my brother called. He had walked from Battery Park to his apartment on West End Avenue and 69th Street. Thankfully, he was at a breakfast meeting on the top floor of the Marriott Battery Park and saw it all. At the time, he was working for GMAC Commercial Real Estate, and the only people in the GMAC New York office who survived were at that meeting. He’s got survivor’s guilt over what happened.
I also remember being very angry that we had been attacked. On my way home, I wrote a letter to SECNAV volunteering to be recalled. I printed it at their business center and mailed it from the Courtyard. What happened later is another story.
“Never Forget: The Connection Between Community and Combat”
I was stationed at Pope AFB, NC, serving as an A-10 instructor pilot and the incoming Operations Officer for the 74th Fighter Squadron. I slept in on 9/11, as I was scheduled for a A-10 mission that night in preparation for our upcoming deployment to Kuwait in a few months. Upon awakening, my wife relayed the news of the horrific incident; little did I know how much this would impact me and my family over the next 11 years on active duty.
The squadron deployed to Kuwait as scheduled in January 2002 to fill the Close Air Support (CAS) and Combat Search and Rescue (CSAR) missions in Operation SOUTHERN WATCH over Iraq. We closely monitored the early battles in Afghanistan, some of which resulted in coalition casualties and drove a need for increased CAS presence. A site survey of the Soviet-built Bagram Airfield in northern Afghanistan revealed significant limiting factors for fixed-wing aircraft basing, including large holes in the runway, unexploded ordnance near the taxiways and infield, no airfield lighting, no instrument approaches and isolated areas along departure and arrival corridors where small arms and hand-held surface-to-air missiles might be present. Senior commanders assessed the risk and determined that A-10s could safely deploy forward as the operational risks were mitigated. We deployed half of the squadron to Afghanistan, where I was in the first flight of A-10s to land at Bagram and establish a bare base. Our flying was enabled only because of heroic efforts by logistics, communications and force support personnel.
Over the next several years, I served as the Air Forces Central Command (AFCENT) Chief of Plans and Chief of Staff, helping plan and orchestrate air campaigns across the theater. In 2009, President Obama authorized a 30,000-strong troop surge to Afghanistan, at which point the AFCENT Commander recognized the need to bolster airpower assets in theater. I was tasked to plan the standup of an Air Expeditionary Wing at Kandahar Airfield in Southern Afghanistan where increased air support was likely to be needed, and was also selected to serve as the Vice Commander for the 451st Air Expeditionary Wing at Kandahar. We relocated the A-10s from Bagram to Kandahar and expanded our wing to include the HH-60, C-130, MQ-1, MQ-9, MC-12, HC-130 and a Critical Care Air Transport Team. Once again, our logistics professionals, led by outstanding Senior NCOs were the heroes who made the mission successful. Observing the efforts of Airmen from every career field instilled pride in our teamwork and dedication to the mission.
In total, I deployed for over 1000 days to nearly every country in Southwest Asia, including Iraq and Afghanistan (twice). Thankfully, I have a loving wife and mother who devoted countless days to raising our children in my absence. The impact of 9/11 on the families of those deployed cannot be underestimated and should be recognized at every opportunity.
The attack on the World Trade Center had a personal impact on my hometown family and friends as well. I grew up in a small town on Long Island, NY where many people commute daily to work in NY City, as my dad had done for thirty years. Our town of about 30,000 people lost 48 residents, including three of my high school classmates and my brother’s best friend, a NYC firefighter.
Though I had moved from my hometown years before, the impact on my siblings and their friends was deep and profound. The connection between my community and the missions I later performed reinforced the powerful but sometimes forgotten motto to “Never Forget.”
A Dream Trip Changed Forever
My wife BJ and I were on a Renaissance cruise ship docked in Bora Bora. In the middle of the night, the ship’s klaxon went off and I immediately jumped out of bed. At that time the TV in our stateroom came on by itself and we saw the plane hit the second tower. The Captain came on the intercom announcing the events which were occurring and that we should consider ourselves safe.
We were the only ship with satellite communications in the area and were getting constant updates on the other events that were taking place.
The French Navy had contacted the Captain and immediately implemented a safety protocol. They surrounded our ship with their coastal guard ships and destroyer for safety. We stayed in Bora Bora for two additional days and were confined to the ship. They then escorted us back to Papeete, where we spent an additional two days on board since there were no hotels available and had constant military roving patrols guarding our ship. During this time we were getting various updates, most of which were unconfirmed and later proved to be untrue. The thought of us going to war ran through my head, and I wondered who would be so foolish as to do something so horrific.
After this we were escorted by the French Army to the airport and spent a day and a half there, surrounded by the Army in a private area. Finally, we boarded Air Tahiti Nui and flew to Los Angeles, where we were the first non-American airline to land there. We were then informed by American Airlines to stay in the gate area as they were working on getting us a flight back to Dallas. Finally, we landed in Dallas and made our way home. The Dallas airport looked like a ghost city. A dream-of-a-lifetime trip that was meant to be fun was remembered in a totally different way.
A Birthday America Would Never Forget
I was home from work that day, as it is my birthday. I watched it on TV and was completely shocked as I watched the towers fall. I had joined the Guard the previous May, 2001. We were immediately put on alert, although we could not get onto Kelly AFB for a few days due to security. Finally, I went on duty and started a pre-basic orientation course for new Guard recruits.
The Door I Walked Through
I was working on a contract proposal for LSS to manage the Army’s Blue Grass Depot in Kentucky, which was its maintenance depot for Special Operations. On September 10, I drove from their headquarters in Annapolis, Maryland, to the Pentagon, where I had a meeting scheduled with several members of the Army Logistics staff about the RFP. I exited the building through the door that the aircraft hit the next day and drove back to Annapolis around 3:00 p.m. on the afternoon of September 10. The rest is history.
A Long Day in Hawaii
Thank you for sharing those stories—we must never forget. We were stationed at JICPAC in Hawaii when my mom called and said to turn on the TV. That was all she said. My wife is from New York City and her entire family lived in Manhattan. It was a long day for us. Sitting in my office today inside a SCIF and reading these stories takes me back to that day. Words can’t describe the feeling.
Across the Hudson
I was back in Jersey City doing consulting at Lord Abbett corporate headquarters, located directly on the Hudson River—exactly across from the World Trade Center. Their reception area is a large, high-level, two-story space that is all glass overlooking the river.
Having been there before the event, it was very unreal to look across the river where the towers once stood. It was also sobering to hear the many stories of Lord Abbett employees and what they endured in the days following the catastrophe. Almost everyone had family and/or friends directly impacted. Many lived in New York City and were stranded, unable to get home for days. It was gut-wrenching to experience.
“Are We at War?”
On 9/11/01, I was 20 years beyond my End of Active Service as a U.S. Marine officer and was a litigation partner in a Dallas law firm. I first heard of the attacks on the Twin Towers while listening to the radio as I was backing out of my garage at home that morning. I was on my way to take the deposition of a plaintiff in a lawsuit that I was defending. I recall saying to my opposing counsel after I arrived at his office and we sat down at the deposition table, “So, are we at war?” All of a sudden, a dispute over a minor automobile accident didn’t seem so important.
Nevertheless, we went ahead and completed the deposition—the call of duty—and it wasn’t until later that day, after I got home, that I saw television images of the planes striking the towers and the Pentagon. So shocked and entranced by the television coverage was I that I completely forgot, until my wife reminded me, that my brother, a serving Army officer, was assigned to the Pentagon! It was a tense interlude before I was able to confirm that my brother was not actually physically present in the Pentagon building at the time of the attack, but instead was in an office in Crystal City, in Arlington. Whew! I remember, too, how eerily quiet—somber—it was the day following the attacks, when all air traffic was grounded.
The Drive to Kansas City
I was driving to the airport in Dallas when the radio reported that a small plane had hit the World Trade Center. I assumed that some daredevil pilot had tried to fly a small plane between the two buildings. By the time I got inside the airport, it was confirmed that it was a large plane that hit the building. When I got in line to check in, the group in front of me was going to New York City. I told them that I doubted that planes would fly to the city that day. I checked my bag, as I was going to Kansas City. No problem going there, right? Well, that was a mistake. I should have followed my own advice. It took five hours to get my bag back so that I could drive to Kansas City.
I called my wife, who was in Germany visiting our daughter Allison and her new baby, Drew. I told her that I was going to drive to Kansas City. When I got off the phone, a man came up to me and said he had heard that I was driving to Kansas City and wondered if he could ride with me as far as Wichita, as there were no rental cars available. Normally, I probably would have made some excuse, but in the spirit of the day I took him to Wichita.
I called my client, who was a structural engineer with Black & Veatch, and told him that I would be late because I had to drive. By that time the second building had been hit. He was watching on television and accurately predicted that the buildings would collapse.
A Risk Worth Taking
As a civilian on 9/11, I was working for Accenture, a consulting company, as a senior managing consultant. I would normally be at a client location, but on 9/11 I happened to be in the Houston office for a meeting with other management.
Someone got a call about the plane hitting the first tower, and we turned on the many TVs in the office and watched the second tower get hit. At that time we were in the American General building, which was one of the tallest buildings in Houston. It stood out because of its location a bit away from downtown and because it flew a HUGE American flag on the roof.
I believe I was the only veteran on site that morning, and we started hearing about other planes being commandeered and rumors that they were heading for other major cities. It was my opinion that the American General building, because of the characteristics I mentioned above, would be an ideal target for an attack.
There were many young people working in the building, primarily recent college graduates, who were not thinking about that risk, and the other management was more worried about getting work done than the potential danger. I was clearly not staying in the building and made it known to the people around me that I felt we should leave. After all, we were mere miles from two major airports with dozens of flights that had been on schedule that morning.
I was finally able to convince the senior people in the building that we should send everyone home to avoid the risk of an attack. Fortunately, it did not happen, but I was strong in my belief that there was considerable risk—enough that I was willing to face the criticism for leaving if it came to that.
REMEMBER • HONOR • PRESERVE