CHAPTER 22 BONES SINKING LIKE STONES

After 9-11, everyone I knew was talking about where they were that terrible day. This is where I talk about my day. It was a very emotional chapter to write and I have spent a good deal of time on it. I have also procrastinated a lot in finishing it. This chapter suddenly changes tone from the rest of the book and I hope it’s not too difficult of a transition for the book. I imagine the book is in three sections and this, as well as the last chapter, comprise that third section of the book.

Mary is a good friend of mine in Annapolis who I had not seen in some time, but we still kept in touch. She was more a friend of my father’s fourth wife, who had divorced him while we were in Maryland, but we still kept in touch. She invited me over for dinner the night before I was going to return home. What was supposed to be just dinner turned into a long evening of conversation and I eventually left her home six hours after my arrival. The food was good, the conversation compelling and soon she grabbed her astrological charts to give me a reading. It’s sort of a side job of hers.

She started out by giving me a reading of my friend Vincent, from New Jersey. She wanted to show her accuracy by reading someone she has no knowledge of. All she needed was the date, time and location of his birth. I guessed at the time, but knew the date and only that he was born in New Jersey. The things she told me about his personality were right on the money. She could also tell me that he had lost two people close to him, which he had- his grandparents. She was telling me things about him that she would have no way of knowing and were not very general in nature. There are times I will read horoscopes of other signs and they are general enough that they could also apply to me. But this was not the case here. So I trusted the things she told me about my chart, even though they were quite puzzling.

That night, September 10, she told me that I would be moving within a year. She told me that my job was going to change and said that an opportunity would present itself and that I should grab it. I would know what it was when the time came. I thought she was crazy. I wasn’t going to move. I certainly wasn’t going to change jobs! I asked if she could possibly mean that some aspect of my job would change, like I start flying international instead of domestic.

She took another look in her book, took a breath in, and then looked back at me over her glasses and said simply, “Your job will change.”

The information weighed heavily on me that night as I fell asleep. The next morning it was still heavy on my mind. I had to leave early, so I had said goodbye to Tammy and Andy the night before. I woke up, got dressed, and left for the airport. With so much on my mind, I didn’t even turn on the radio in my rental car. My flight out was just past noon that September 11. I wanted to get to the airport earlier than I normally would to return the car.

There was one thing I wanted to do before leaving town, though. That was to stop by my old place of employment, the Harley dealership. One of my closest friends there, Kathie, had a gift for me. That’s why I left Tammy’s so early, so I could stop by and see how things were going since my absence.

Kathie was the bookkeeper of the dealership and had become a sort of mother to me, mine being so far away. She would bring me Easter baskets full of candy and valentines cards. We ate lunch together almost every day, and had a similar warped sense of humor. We called her Witchy-poo and joked with her by placing a sign on her office door, which read, “Broom Closet.” She loved it. We also called her Maxine, a reference to the greeting cards with the cranky old woman, who Kathie admitted herself, was much like her. She seemed to enjoy having the reputation of being a bit crotchety and even listened to rock music, which is not something most people in their sixties listen to.

I pulled up to the front of the store and parked next to the few other cars that were there. It was about 1015, so they had only been open for fifteen minutes. I walked back towards the offices and in the first one I came to I saw Robert. Robert had worked for us part time a few months before I left and was still employed there. He was in his wheelchair and seemed really happy to see me. I stepped inside the office to say a quick hello to him.

“Well, I bet you hate your job today, don’t you?” He asked.

“Why?” I asked, almost bewildered that he would think that.

“You haven’t heard? Somebody’s hijacking airplanes and crashing them into buildings. They’ve closed all the airports in the whole country.”

“You’re kidding! No I didn’t even turn on the radio in my car this morning.” I thought, surely, he must be over reacting. Nothing would shut down all the airports in the country!

He grabbed a small radio next to him and turned the knob increasing the volume. The announcer was saying something about a bomb threat at the CIA in Washington. The building was being evacuated.

“And they closed all the airports?” I asked.

“Yeah, every single one, they’re making all planes land at the nearest airport.”

I thanked him for the information and excused myself to find Kathie. I didn’t quite know what to think. Surely it’s some joke, or being blown way out of proportion. But obviously, something was going on. I looked out at the others in the store. Things seemed calm. An employee I didn’t know was folding tee shirts. Another was looking for motorcycle accessories on the wall with a list in one hand. A customer was looking at helmets. One of the mechanics walked in and was buying a soda out of the machine at the front of the store- all very normal.

I found Kathie behind the door with the broom closet sign still taped to it. She got up from her desk and we hugged.

“Have you heard the news?” she asked.

“Yeah, Robert was just telling me about some planes being hijacked?”

She didn’t know anything else and we spoke for a few minutes about the store and some of the people who still worked there from when I was the GM. She handed me a shirt with penguins on it, knowing how much I love penguins. “Something I saw and thought of you, I thought you would like it.”

“I do,” I told her. Then after some more small talk, I told her, “Well, it sounds like I’m not going home on my flight at noon today. I guess I had better get back to Tammy’s and see what’s going on.”

She thought that was a good idea and we hugged again.

I got back in my rental car and turned on the radio. I drove back to Tammy’s in a fog. Looking back on that day, I have no recollection of what the news was saying on the radio. I only knew it was not good. Reports were not clear, not yet confirmed. The anchorman’s voice was tense and sounded like he had been upset about something. Some planes were missing. Some buildings were hit. Others were being evacuated. Airports were closed. Military jets were in the air. Buildings in DC were being evacuated for fear of bombs going off. Law enforcement agencies were seeking information, but no arrests had been made. It sounded like war. It scared me like I have never been scared in my life.

When I got to Tammy’s house, they were still in bed asleep. It was some time just after 1030 on September 11, 2001. I turned on the television in the living room and stepped back to see what the reports were.

Time stood still.

The image on the screen was of New York from across the harbor. It appeared to be New York and that is what the text on the screen said it was. But there was a crater in the middle of downtown Manhattan. There was thick black smoke bellowing up to the sky. It took me a few seconds, but I soon realized what I was looking at. It came to me what that image was. It was downtown Manhattan and the World Trade Center towers were gone. All that was left were the columns of smoke lifting up to the heavens, floating out towards the sea.

My mouth dropped and my hand raised to cover it. My head slunk forward and my eyes rounded. I felt the hairs on my body stand and blood seemed to drain out of me. With the realization of what was going on starting to become clear to me, I rushed into Tammy’s bedroom and began to shake her awake.

“Tammy, get up, you need to see this.” Andy stirred next to her, “Get up Andy,” I said. Tammy was barely coming to.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“They’re hijacking planes and flying them into buildings. The World Trade Center is gone.” Only, I didn’t quite finish the sentence before I broke down into tears.

Andy jumped right out of bed knowing something was wrong enough to make me cry and went directly into the living room. I followed. Tammy rolled out of bed and joined us a few seconds later. The three of us stood there silently watching the images. Then the replay of the second plane hitting the towers was shown, followed by the first tower falling, then the second. Andy was crying. Tammy was numb. There were no feelings to describe what we felt, what America was feeling that morning. Our precious planes and lives of Americans were used to bring down two powerful symbols of what made America so special. It sickened me.

I thought immediately of my parents and went to the phone. I was able to leave a message with my father right away, but it took a while for me to get a line reach my mother. She works at a school in Breckenridge. When I finally got a line out, she answered the phone, “Hello, this is Linda.” She sounded good, but an underlying stress was audible to my ears.

Upon hearing my voice she broke into tears, making me do the same. I told her I was all right, told her where I was. She was so scared, knowing I was on the East Coast, but not knowing where, and that I was to fly home that day, but not when.

Rumors were spreading quickly, especially being so close to Washington. One was that people were getting money out of their bank and hoarding food. Tammy thought this was a good idea, her cupboards were fairly empty. We went out in my rental car so she could cash her check from work and get something to eat. Things seemed relatively normal, but there was a certain look of fear on the faces of the other drivers.

After the bank I drove across the street to the store. We only grabbed a few items. The radio was playing but the people inside were talking about other things. One guy in line was buying a lotto ticket. I thought that was very odd and was glad to leave. There was just a weird vibe in the store. As I backed the car up and started forward an announcement came across the radio.

“It has just been confirmed that the plane that went down in the Pennsylvania field was flight 93 bound for California. There are no survivors…”

It was the first time that day I had heard what airline was affected. The reports had not said what airlines went into the three buildings. For some reason, having the name associated with the crash made things hit home for me. That was my family, in a sense, that was lost on that flight. In a flash I thought about the flight attendants and the pilots on board. Did I know anyone working it? I lost control of my emotions and brought the car to a stop in the parking lot. My eyes quickly filled with water making prisms of light and blurring my sight. Tammy put her arm around me and I cried.

We spent the whole day in front of the television. At times one or more of us would go outside for some air. Tammy’s house is on a hill overlooking Spa Creek. It’s a wide, smooth body of water that empties into the Severn River, which empties into the Chesapeake Bay. It is full of sailboats anchored to the shore or sitting in the middle of the water and surrounded by nice homes. There was not a cloud in the sky. It was one of the most beautiful days I can remember. There was a slight breeze every now and then, but for the most part it was very calm. A few ducks flew overhead and I looked at them flapping so hard to stay aloft. The planes that usually flew overhead were gone. The con trails from aircraft flying up and down the Atlantic seaboard were gone.

I thought about standing in the mountains of Colorado last New Year’s and thinking how 2001 was going to be so wonderful. Then of what Mary had told me the night before in reading my chart. I guess she was right, after all, and sooner than we had expected. There was going to be change in my job. A big change.

I looked back to the water and listened. It was quiet. It was still. The wind had died and the ducks were gone. I looked to the ground where I was standing, at the blades of bright green grass. I felt so empty inside. I had never known pain like this. I was numb. I felt so small and insignificant; the universe was big that day, dense, and dark. Tammy came outside and put her arm around me. Neither of us could comprehend what had happened that morning. The pieces were still being put together by the authorities, so we kept glued to the television, hoping that some sense of what had happened would come to fruition. It never would.

That night we each drifted apart to go to sleep without really saying anything to one another. The television was our only companion. I fell asleep with it on and would wake up several times throughout the night and turn my head towards it to see what was happening, like a never-ending dream. And each time I did so I thought it was all a dream, nothing that bad can really happen, and not to us, in America! It just had to be a dream.

The following day was more of the same. The three of us stayed home watching every minute we could, but taking a break from the pain to go outside and see the beauty there. I was envious of the ducks and seagulls, not being grounded, not having to know the fear and pain going on in the world. And I was envious of their flight, since I was now trapped in Annapolis, far from home, and felt a complete loss of control in my life.

I became more enraged at how anyone could hijack four planes. In training we were always told to do whatever a hijacker asks us to do. They only want to get somewhere. Take them there, and then we would get on with our life. But that game was changed on September 11. I was incensed that anyone would use our beautiful airplanes as a weapon to kill so many innocent people. Every time I watched the images of the planes disappearing into the buildings in New York I would start to cry. When I saw the faces of those holding signs and photos of loved ones missing and lost, I would cry. At seeing the outpouring of compassion and sadness in cities around the world, many of which I had visited, I cried.

On the third day, Thursday, I went with Tammy to her office to use the computer to get on line. Her office was still shut down, and would remain so for the rest of that week. I logged on and found eighty-four messages from people concerned about me. All I could do was leave a quick standardized response with the promise of more information when I got home.

The gravity of the situation, still incomprehendable to me, did not start to settle in until this point, when I realized that my industry was going to be devastated by the murderous cowards who struck so hard. Along with the many personal messages were those from the union. Most covered dealing with tragedy and gave many references for reaching out for help. Others spoke to the hard times about to hit the airline industry – the cancelled flights, the lost income, the security threats the possible layoffs. I was not in a good mood when we left for Tammy’s house. I became very angry and vented out loud to anyone who could hear me shouting on the banks of Spa Creek, behind Tammy’s house. I cursed the demented cowards, the closed minded twits, the seemingly godless murderers and brainless sheep following a hollow twisted-man. For they didn’t just strike at our government in DC, or the symbol of American financial might in New York, or at the airline industry, an unfortunate victim in their scheme. They struck at ME that day. They struck at me a billion times over; the billions of people who now live in the new reign of fear and terror. And I filled with anger. Yelling on the shore of Spa Creek helped.

There was much on the television about the already hurting economy and speculation of what the attacks would do to further the problems. Newscasters urged people to go out and support the economy, not to stay home and hold on to that money. That night Tammy and I decided to do just that. We went out to ‘support our local economy,’ meaning we hit several bars and had dinner out. After being in front of the television for so many hours, it was good to get out and try to be normal. That is if getting drunk and talking about bombing third world countries with strangers is normal.

We were hanging out at the bar of the restaurant Andy managed. One of my favorite songs came on the radio. I couldn’t get the song out of my head the following day, so I went out and bought their album, giving it to Tammy, since I already owned it. And I was really glad to hear that she liked the album.

The band is called Coldplay and they are from England. While I had heard the album many times, I was struck by the lyrics in the first song from the album, “Parachutes”. It was like I was hearing them for the first time. The music is almost ethereal and floats around the words and the singer’s voice. The song is called Don’t Panic and the lyrics are as follows:

“Bones, sinking like stones, all that we fought for.

Homes, places we’ve grown, all of us are done for.

And we live in a beautiful world, yeah we do, yeah we do.

We live in a beautiful world.

Oh, all that I know, there’s nothing here to run from.

‘Cos yeah, everybody here’s got somebody to lean on.”

The words seemed to match my feelings. Watching the towers fall on the television, they seemed like bones falling. And we all certainly felt a fear that we were all done for, or at least that life would never be the same again. Yet everything in the world is beautiful and when you have friends to lean on in hard times, there is no need to run away. I thought the song was brilliant.

CHAPTER 23 AFTER THE TERROR

Life after the terrorist attacks was hard on me. My way of life was completely changed and I now looked at the possiblity of loosing the job I loved so much. But at the same time, I was given an opportunity to see more of the world so I took that opportunity. The final chapter discusses how my life changed, how depressed I had become, but ends with a postive twist about the future might hold for me. It was a tough chapter to write and this is only a small look at it.

When I got back to San Francisco I was entering a block of days off. I had missed an entire block of days on while stranded in Annapolis. I now had three days off. Time to reflect, time to be with my pets, to discuss the previous week with friends, and time to start worrying about my future. But I was not finished grieving. In fact, it felt good to grieve and each time something made me cry, I felt better afterwards. It became almost like I had to grieve because of the weight of the tragedy. It was my duty, my contribution.

There was a private service held at the airport. It was open to airline employees only. I put on my cleanest uniform, pinned on new black ribbons with the downed flight numbers printed in gold ink, and went to be with my professional family. It was very solemn. Guards monitored the entrance checking IDs of those who passed. There were many flight attendants, several supervisors, a hand full of pilots, some ground staff and customer service reps.

The service was held in the old international terminal. It had been vacant since the international operations moved to the new terminal a few months prior. There was a small stage set up in the corner. On the stage, behind the lectern, were flowers and candles. A US flag stood proud, and banners from each of the airlines who lost planes hung from the ceiling. Just below these were large model airplanes from each carrier. The windows looked out onto the tarmac. Just before the service started, a plane taxied by the windows heading to the runway for take off. The first officer’s cockpit window was open and the American flag was sticking out of it, rustling in the breeze. It caught everyone’s attention and brought applause from everyone in the room. Not a rousing applause, but a dignified applause, like one would hear in a church or on a golf course.

I looked around the room and noticed the people looking out the window clapping. Most were teary-eyed. As the plane rounded the corner and out of sight, they turned and resumed their conversation. I found some classmates of mine and found hugs when I went over to them. We started talking about where we were when the attacks happened, what we were going to do after loosing our job, and how fortunate we had been in not knowing anyone lost. Several said that they didn’t think they would return to flying. I was bound and determined that I would eventually return, no matter how long it took.

The service was respectful and, solemn but long. Clergy from many faiths spoke. Pilots read poems. The names of the employees who died were read. We had lost twenty-five flight attendants, eight pilots and a few other employees who had been passengers that day. We recited the pledge of allegiance and sung a few patriotic songs. Everyone was able to cry and embrace their flying partners and friends. It was truly a close-knit family grieving opportunity. I had spoken to people who said they just could not go to it. They were already too emotional. But I found a need to be surrounded by others who were going through the same pain that I was. I needed to see that I was not alone in my anger, in my sorrow, and in the uncertainty that I was feeling for what would happen next with my job.

The Union was busy getting out information to us. They listed resources for preparing for being furloughed. The contract deals specifically for this possibility. If furloughed, I have the right to my old job once it becomes available. Employees are let go by reverse seniority order: the newest to be hired go first. When the recalls come, we are brought back by seniority order: the newest comes back last. We were guaranteed our old jobs for a period of eight years. If the furloughs lasted longer than that, I would have to re-apply for my job when it became available. There had been other furloughs in recent memory, and no one I ever spoke to felt that the furlough would last very long. But was unsure. Aviation had never seen a setback like this one.

Our union held several meetings in the following weeks to answer everyone’s questions. Before the numbers of the furlough were announced, there was much speculation over how many would be affected. The company was offering voluntary furloughs, an effort to help save the jobs for those who really needed them. If one took the voluntary furlough, there were certain benefits to doing so, seniority would continue, whereas it would freeze for the involuntary. One could still have medical benefits as opposed to having them for only ninety days. One could still have pass travel benefits as well.

When the numbers were finally announced, it would affect 5,374 flight attendants, just over one thousand would be from SFO. It would affect people hired any time after February of 1997. Although I knew I would not be able to escape the furlough with a seniority of August 2000, the news sank in heavily. My family was very concerned when I made the calls to inform them. Many asked what I was going to do next. Many had the opinion that this was terminal, that I would need to find a new career. I always answered with, “It’s just a matter of time before I get called back. I’ll just find a little temporary job until then.” I even started to wonder if I was not taking the furlough as seriously as I should have, with the severity that my family was taking it.

I didn’t want to see the finality in it that others saw. In fact I wanted to make the best of this that I could. The company was going to allow us ninety days of pass travel benefits. That meant free travel through the end of January. I still had a lot of money saved from my Harley days. I decided to put off finding another job and started making plans to see the world. Why waste an opportunity to do so for free? Should I never get this job back, I would regret it. The plan was to travel for a month, and then I would look for work. But I still had a few weeks to work before being let go.