In memory of 9/11/01

Five years ago I was a freshman at Binghamton University, a state university in upstate New York. On the morning of 9/11, I slept late because I didn't have class until about 11am. The first thing that happened was the phone rang. My roommate answered it and, half-sleeping, I heard her say, "You have to tell her yourself." It was my sister on the phone and she was hysterical. My first thought, funny enough, was that she had just broken up with her boyfriend. Then she proceeded to tell me what had happened: that a plane had just flown into one of the twin towers. Bewildered and confused, clearly thinking it had been an accident, I replied, "But isn't it illegal to fly planes so close to tall buildings?" She explained that it was a terrorist attack--this was before the word "terrorist" had become part of everyday lexicon, at least for a 17-year-old. I had a brief moment of panic when I heard that it was the World Trade Center. "But doesn't Dad work nearby?" I remembered that his office was just around the corner. She assured me that he was probably okay, that none of the other buildings outside the Trade Center had been harmed and that they would most likely evacuate them anyway.

I wandered, bleary-eyed, throughout my dorm suite. Every television was turned to CNN. My suitemate, Daniela, was glued to the t.v. but turned to me when I appeared at her door. "Just go back to sleep so you can dream again," she said. I saw the smoke rising from one of the towers. Shortly after, it collapsed. I don't remember when the second tower was struck or where I was at the time. I was probably somewhere in the Pitts (basement floor where I resided) of Hughes Hall, trying to convince one of my suitemates and one of my floormates not to rent a car and drive down to NYC to make sure their families were okay. Possibly, I was upstairs in my friend Heather's suite, watching "Clueless" to take our minds off the mayhem that was ensuing. During the movie (it might have been the part where Cher and Christian are watching "Spartacus"), my roommate came in to tell me that my sister was on the phone again. She had been trying to get in touch with my parents all day and finally got through to my mother, who told her that my dad's office had been evacuated and he had run uptown, away from the madness, and was safe. I finally breathed.

They were holding a candlelight vigil on campus that evening and for some reason, I didn't want to go. I just wanted to go back to sleep and forget the whole thing had happened. But I couldn't go to sleep no matter how hard I tried. I finally ran out of the dorm, across campus, and joined the vigil in the Peace Quad. Some people spoke, everyone held a lighted candle, I think some people were handing out flyers for bereavement groups. I don't remember much of what was spoken, just a lot about peace and justice and what a terrible tragedy had just happened. It was altogether a bizarre and surreal day.

I just wanted to share my experience in a purely empirical way and invite others to do the same. It's sometimes comforting to hear how others experience a similar event and talk about their coping mechanisms.