I remember hearing the announcement of John Lennon’s shooting on WNEW from New York. I was on the phone with a friend and we both had the radio station on when they said he had been shot, I was 14. (It’s a sin they allowed WNEW to die… that station played a major part in Rock ‘n’ Roll history.)
I remember the Shuttle Challenger and Columbia disasters very clearly.
I was at work the day of the Oklahoma City bombing, and my boss’ mother called to tell her about it, but we didn’t comprehend the full scope of it until we saw the news coverage.
When Princess Di died, I felt bad for her kids, but wasn’t deeply affected by it; and I was disgusted that her death still eclipsed the passing of Mother Theresa just six days later. The media’s sensationalistic coverage of that and the OJ Simpson case made me turn off my television for many months. In fact, I still rarely turn it on.
I remember the phone call from my sister-in-lay telling me that my ex-husband died (my son’s father) the night before, and my son was standing right next to me, and I couldn’t figure out how to tell him. Breaking my son’s heart was the hardest thing I’ve had to do.
I remember Columbine, because I was flying out of Denver Airport as it happened, so I didn’t hear about it until I arrive back on the East Coast. I flew into Denver the day of the Virginia Tech killings. I’ve since wondered if I should avoid Denver (but a bff lives nearby).
Sept. 11th, 2001 will forever be etched on my memory. It was a perfect morning… the air was cool and crisp and the sky was deep blue and cloudless. I looked at the towers in the distance as I did every morning on my drive in to work at a hospital in Newark. I had an 8:30 meeting with my manager and another colleague, and I was a bit nervous… but the meeting actually went well, and I was feeling validated and positive as I opened the door at about 10:00. Immediately a coworker said that a plane hit the WTC, and within minutes, someone else’s husband called to say that a second plane had hit. We were in the basement of the building, and the antennas went down with the Towers, so there were no good TV or radio signals anyway.
My mother (who worked in Manhattan) was halfway across the Atlantic Ocean, flying into Newark—I had no clue where they were going to send them. My son had just started a new school the day before, and I had no idea how they were going to handle it. Cell phones weren’t working, and rumors of 4 other planes unaccounted for were still circulating. They were putting the hospital on lock-down to help with the injured, so my boss told me to get out before the blocked the parking garage, so I could deal with my son and locate my mother.
As I drove South on the Garden State Parkway, I could see the purplish smoke blowing due South along the coast on New Jersey. The people on the NJ radio station were trying to filter fact from rumor and to help everyone stay calm. As I got to my street, an neighbor was about to get her son from school, and offered to pick up mine as well. My son said he was the 2nd child to be picked up from his classroom, the first was a boy whose mother worked in the towers—she was badly injured, but survived.
I tried to get information from the web about the airlines, but the web was still pretty young then. Plus the region’s power and communications were also a victim of the attacks, so there was nothing I could learn until my mother finally called to say that she was safe. The pilot had announced the the US Airspace was closed, and they had to turn the plane around. Fortunately, they had enough fuel that they were able to return to Zürich. It was another 2 weeks before she was able to come back to NJ. She lost a friend in the towers.
I had the live coverage from NY on the television when they fell. I just bawled. That was a psychological shock unlike any I’ve had to deal with. I was glued to the TV wishing I could help, and for days after watching the people searching for their loved-ones—it was heart-wrenching.
That night, the air was still dry, and the sky was crystal clear. It was SOOOOO quiet. Usually there are may airplanes and tons of traffic, as I live directly between NY and Philly, near the Air Force and Naval Air bases – but it was still. I sat on the side of my house staring up at the stars and feeling so miniscule and insignificant. I saw a satellite pass over; and shortly after, I was startled by 2 fighter jets going by. The sight of an airplane freaked me out for a couple months after that, and still sometimes I get a twinge at the sight of a plane.
It was several weeks before I could bring myself to listen to music – I felt guilty for having pleasure while so many were suffering the loss of their loved ones. But I came to realize that the meaning of life is to live and enjoy each moment and cherish those we love, because everything could change in the blink of an eye.
Composing members:
0
Composing members:
0
