We got married in February, 2002 so in September, 2001, I was in high-gear wedding planning.  I was at a tasting for one of several brunches we were hosting, about 20 minutes from DC.  As I walked through the door, the staff was scrambling to move a TV from the lounge to the office area - the first plane had just hit and naturally everyone thought it was a freak accident.  Just after they turned it on, we watched the second plane hit and knew it was not an accident.  I looked at the woman I was meeting about the tasting and said 'if it's terrorists, won't they try DC too?'  Shortly after, the Pentagon was attacked and Flight 93 went down, apparently on a planned collision course with the White House.  Within 30 minutes, the manager closed the restaurant and sent everyone home, but traffic was gridlocked.  Sitting in my car, I could see wisps of black smoke over the city in my rearview mirror and could smell burning jet fuel, even as far away as my house (I live 50 miles from DC, even closer as the crow flies). 

The first church I worked for opened their doors for people to come pray and to begin taking donations for relief efforts.  I stopped by to see if they needed me for anything.  One of their members is a fire captain and trench rescue coordinator for FEMA.  He was picked up by military helicopter right in the church parking lot and whisked to Ground Zero to lend his expertise to the first wave of rescue and recovery.  Though he's been around the world, aiding in all sorts of natural disasters, mine collapses and even at the OKC bombing, he was unable to speak of what he experienced in NYC for almost a year.  However, now he says that the Hurricane Katrina situation was catastrophically worse than the terrorist attacks from his perspective as a rescuer, but that's another story for another day.


Happiness is not a destination.  It is a method of life.  ~Burton Hills