Happy Birthday Ruthie
I found this in a pile of papers I was going through. Four years ago today, on my 38th birthday, I departed from JFK at about 7:45 am en route to LAX. My only concern that morning was getting the coveted upgrade to business class and that I would be in sunny CA by afternoon for a round of golf on my birthday. I, and 40 of my colleagues were to attend a meeting in Palm Springs. Several had already arrived and many of us were departing that morning. The prior Monday evening, there had been terrible storms in NY and many flights were cancelled. I was scheduled on the first flight out to LA, at 7:00 am. The airport was mobbed with angry, ticked off people who had spent the night in New York, either at the airport or some nearby nasty hotel.
When we landed in Kansas City, where I would spend the next five days trying to get home, the world was a different place. It reminded me of an old episode of the Twilight Zone where a plane full of passengers flew above the clouds and was unable to land in the same time period from which they left. After a great deal of confusion (in the air and once we landed), I was finally able to find the Admiral's Club, which provided the only TV in the airport. By 10:00 am Kansas City time, the worst had already happened. I learned that day and throughout the next few days that one of my colleagues was on United Flight 175 which crashed into the South Tower of the Trade Center. Others of my colleagues landed in cities throughout the United States and made desperate attempts to get home to the east coast - some of whom even rented a U-haul and drove all the way back. Several who made it to CA, drove the entire way also. Interestingly, others who were flying Jet Blue watched the entire series of events live on their on-board TV's.
I later learned that three others I knew were killed in the Trade Center that day. Several friends had near misses running from debris in lower Manhattan. In all of the insanity that morning, my twin sister, Ruth, and some others in my family initially thought that I might have been in one of the planes that was hijacked (as we had left New York at about the same time as the other flights and were on a 767 flying cross country). Thankfully, I was one of the lucky ones.
Despite the horror of that day, I encountered amazing people. The staff at the Admiral's Club, despite learning their colleagues had just been murdered, refused to leave the airport, despite the fact that it closed, until they knew I had a hotel room. One staff member even held the room on her personal credit card and offered to drive me to make sure I would be safe. The staff at Buca di Beppo downtown fed me and volunteer fire and emergency personnel (who were on their way to NY) for two days. Others were equally as concerned and giving.
So, on what had always been a joyous day for my twin and I (and her husband, too, believe it or not), we now quietly and somberly celebrate our special day. And I will always say a simple prayer for George, Jim, Jane and Dennis.