May We Never Forget

It was my freshman year of college, the first time I had moved away from home. More specifically, I had been in Pittsburgh for only 2.5 weeks, long enough for me to realize I LOVED college, but short enough that I hadn't found my way completely around campus yet. Pitt was 5.5 hours from my hometown and I had been lucky enough to go to college with a few friends from high school and my high school boyfriend. I loved the city, but was still afraid to walk around alone. I loved the independence, but still had no idea how I was going to make myself do my homework. I loved the cafeterias, but knew that would get old fast. I loved my friends, my family and pretty much everything. I was a lucky girl, in a fantastic city, at a prestigious school, with wonderful friends. The world, to me, was awesome. My biggest worry was if I would get up in time for my 8am Algebra class. That was September 10, 2001.

 Around 6:00am on September 11, 2001, I was woken up by the screeching fire alarm in my dorm room. I sat straight up, looked around in the dark and said aloud "here we go again". Tower B, my freshman residence hall, had a new fire alarm system installed the summer before I arrived at Pitt, and it was triggered pretty much three times a week in the 2.5 weeks we had been there. My roommate Katie and I were constantly being woken up, called out of the shower, interrupted during homework, you name it because of the alarms. The alarms were short, and we would always head back in afterwards wondering when the alarms would finally be fixed. This morning, however, we heard loud voices from the hallway and when I fully opened my eyes swung my legs out of bed, I realized I smelled smoke. I yelled for Katie and she moved as quickly as she could out of the top bunk. We threw on shoes and sweatshirts and headed for the door. When we threw open the door we saw thin gray smoke and our floor mates quickly heading down the stairs to the lobby. We followed, automatically assuming our building was on fire and we needed to hurry. We were obviously worried, but still grumpy for being awake. Six am is extremely early for a college freshman. That morning, it was not a false alarm. Tower B sat with two other tours on top of a large lobby. Underneath that were dining halls and kitchens. One of the stoves in the kitchen had caught on fire and the smoke was using the vents in the building as an escape route. We waited for about an hour and half, outside in our pajamas, until they let us back in. As I rushed to shower and get ready, as I was due at my new work study job in the Cathedral of Learning by 8, I thought about the nice nap I was going to take when I got home from work at 1pm. I never got that nap.

The phone rang in the office around 9:00am. It was my supervisor’s daughter and she sounded upset, so I handed her the phone quickly. When she hung up, she said “a plane hit the World Trade Center, that’s so sad”. I agreed and went on with my work. Soon, the phone rang again and it was another message “a second plane hit the other tower, I’m pretty sure this is on purpose”. We sat together at the front desk, trying to figure out what this could mean. We didn’t have access to a television and couldn’t find a radio that worked. We continued to work, not really having any other information. Another phone call, another message “okay, now one flew into the Pentagon, something is really wrong”. We decided to find the director and find out what we should do, but no one was around. I walked down to the first floor to see if anyone had any information. We were all lost. I returned to the office and the phone rang again. We were almost afraid to answer it. “Okay mom,” her daughter said “the news just said a plane is down in Pittsburgh, get out of that building now”. The Cathedral of Learning is the tallest education building in the United States and we were sitting on the 12^th floor. As we worried and wondered, an announcement came over the emergency loudspeaker that we were to evacuate. I’m not sure I’ve ever moved so fast or been so concerned. As I walked to Tower B (another hugely tall building on campus), I’ll never forget the faces. Some walking with no care in the world, because they had been in class and had no idea that the world had just changed. Some looked terrified, some were crying. I’ll never forget how quiet it was…no planes in the air.

I entered the lobby, not sure what I was going to do. I saw people with bags, packed and ready to go. Our neighbors, new friends from close by, said “come with us, you’ve got to leave”, but I just couldn’t go. I saw Katie walking towards me, looking incredibly confused. She had been in a lab for the past few hours and hadn’t heard anything. I explained as quickly as I could, the little that I did know. We hurried to our room…we figured the third floor was as safe as we could be and turned on the TV. There, I saw the footage that had already aired to the horror of the country. Our room filled with our hometown friends. We left the door open to hear our floor mates leaving, talking, crying. I immediately tried to contact my parents, who I was desperate to speak to, but our cell phones weren’t working. This was pre-Facebook and before my parents really used email. All I wanted to do was talk to my family. We finally figured out that the plane was not actually in Pittsburgh, but about 80 miles away. As I talked to my mom, I cried and wished I was home. I felt vulnerable, confused and totally scared out of my mind. I can say, with totally confidence, that I have never felt that way in my entire life.

I’m not sure I ate that day. I know that I sat on a chair, watched the news and thought about how nothing would ever be the same. Classes resumed the next day and my college career continued. I constantly thought about that day...how the alarm went off, how we were late for class/work, how we thought that would be the worst part of our day. I thought about how that day was just a Tuesday, a regular, beautiful day in Pittsburgh and then it wasn't. I'm just not sure I could wrap my head around it. I'm not sure I ever did. 

For the next few years, every 9-11, I went outside, stood around the school’s memorial and thought about everyone who lost their lives and everyone who was going overseas to fight for our freedom. Though it was 10 years ago, I can remember every feeling I had that day…every nerve that tingled during those phone calls…every tear I cried watching the footage. I didn’t lose anyone personally that day, but I’m pretty sure we all lost that day.

Now, on 9-11, I have a hard time comprehending that it's been 10 years. It’s still sad, it still hurts. And I still remember exactly where I was, what I was doing and what I was feeling. Only now, I get to watch my husband fly overseas to support the war that stemmed from that day. I watch him deploy, to support the United States, to defend our freedoms. 9-11 means a lot in our house…we will never forget.