September 11, 2001

8:46 a.m. the first plane struck the North Tower.

Where was I?

I was still asleep, as I was on the West coast. Like so many, though, I can clearly remember learning about the tragedy, and then waiting and watching while the towers
fell. Seeing the aftermath of the Pentagon. Reverencing with the sacrifice in the field by Flight 93. Wondering how many planes there would end up being used as a weapon
of mass destruction, as flights nationwide were grounded. The following is my 9/11experience on that horrific day:

My husband left for work, and I was going about breakfast with our four children and getting the older three ready to catch the school bus. In the midst of our typical morning
chaos, my husband came back home, and charged through the door, asking, “Did you see it?” Uh… See what exactly? He went and turned on the TV, and there was the
image of the two towers, each having been struck by a plane. Everything stopped, as all eyes in our house (save the baby) were riveted to the screen. We were in time to see
the second tower collapse live. My first reaction, I am sorry to say, is that I was not surprised. The people of the world seemed so set against each other and to have
terrorists take this action was shocking to me, yes, but not surprising. As the reality of it began to sink in, the heartache began. And the anger that people would be so evil and
so cruel as to take innocent lives.

Over and over that day the images repeated on every television channel. The information was repeated over and over on every radio station. To the point that those
images are forever emblazoned in my mind. It was heart-wrenching to watch the events unfold. In the subsequent days and weeks, there was something daily regarding the
events of what became referred to simply as “9/11”. The information and the images that were shared in the forthcoming days ripped a hole in my heart—for those
immediately affected by the tragedy, as well as for our country as a whole. There really are no words that adequately describe the anguish. I cannot even fathom the depth of
emotions of those directly involved. For those who were right there in the World Trade Center, or the Pentagon. For how it must have been for those on the four doomed
flights.

What gave me hope, though, is what happened in the aftermath.

That hope begins with the passengers on Flight 93. Those, who upon learning what had happened with other flights chose to fight their hijackers and sacrifice themselves in
order to prevent another strike. First responders who continued climbing the stairs in the towers looking for those they could assist—to try and get even one more person out,
knowing that the chances of getting back out themselves were slim to none. Volunteers who searched through the rubble. Medical professionals volunteering services on site. It
was amazing to see and my heart filled with pride hearing the stories of the unconquerable spirit of my fellow Americans. And that is what it was. Americans helping
Americans. Even the stories of strangers who had never met before renting a car together in order to get home, dropping each person off in their hometown while the
others continued on, driving across the nation. The President led us in prayer and was not afraid to issue a response. Americans responded in droves as the branches of the
military had record numbers enlisting daily.

And the FLAGS!!

The flags were EVERYWHERE! The Stars & Stripes were hung from windows, doorposts, vehicles, and flagpoles; and new flagpoles sprung up overnight. Miniature
flags were attached to car antennae (ours had them!) and pickup trucks had them streaming behind them attached to their truck beds.

On December 18, 2001, Congress dubbed September 11th as “Patriot Day”. I absolutely love that. Because that is what every brave soul involved from that day is: A
Patriot. And that is what every American who holds the memories of that day close is, holding true to “Never Forget” and recognizing that “Freedom isn’t Free”. Believing in
the unconquerable American Spirit that binds us all together.

This is my story of 9/11. What is yours?

–Karen Pittman, Office Manager at Pacific BioResponse Services