Thanks for starting this thread Caroline.
10 years ago tonight I was trying to catch the last flight home to Pittsburgh, which is where I lived at the time. I'd had a "crashpad" in the NYC area for quite some time, but still made the effort to go home on days off.
I was working a flight from Chicago to Newark, and we were delayed landing because of a fire at Newark airport at the port authority fire station on site at the airport. (funny this never ever made it on the news, I still wonder if the fire was a diversion so the terrorists could get some of their preliminary preparations done).
We finally landed, and I ran the length of the terminal, as absolutely far as one can go in the old terminal C of Newark airport, and caught the last flight out. I sat next to another flight attendant, and we talked about the port authority fire, my kids... this and that. It was raining and we were just happy to be able to get out of Dodge. I told her about the New Guy I was seeing (who is now the Old Guy I'm still seeing lol) and she asked me when I was going to come back over to international flying.
Next morning the phone rings, and its my daughter yelling for me to turn on the TV.
Part of me is still in disbelief as to what happened.... my cousin, who was also a flight attendant for the same airline, was on the employee bus on her way to annual continued certification training. She saw the second plane hit. She quit the job shortly afterward. It was just too much for her to deal with.
Eventually I got back to Newark. I remember standing on the sidewalk, waiting for a taxi to take me to the airport. I was in uniform, and it felt like complete strangers were staring at me, and they probably were.
I worked a flight from New York to Seattle. The passengers were awesome. They brought boxes of candy, homemade cookies, and cards. They said they would never forget. (but memories are short)
My crew stayed in Seattle for several days. The airline scheduling was complete chaos. They finally just deadheaded us back on an open flight.
A couple of months passed, and in November for my birthday, Don suggested we go into the City to visit Ground Zero, it seemed like the thing we should do, not at all celebratory, but, certainly a birthday I will never forget. So we went. And smoke was still billowing out of the manhole covers and storm sewers. It had been almost two months, and still there was black smoke.
We made our way to the site. It had a tall chain link fence around it, and as we stood and watched flat bed trucks haul out steel beams that were twisted and contorted so much, that one would not know they'd ever been straight, and the support for any building.
The smell was awful.
I am totally one of the lucky ones. I am still in awe of the United flight attendant that had the presence of mind to sequester herself in the lavatory and call United's employee scheduling line from her cell.
There are so many heroes. So many already forgotten, or never even acknowledged in the first place.
God Bless America, and may we remain the land of the free.