It is extremely difficult to process that 13 years have passed since the terrorist attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, claimed the lives of almost 3,000 individuals. In many ways, it feels like yesterday that we were all glued to our TVs or radios, watching the events play out in front of us live and trying to comprehend what was taking place.
Thirteen years later, we all know what occurred. And it will likely remain with us for the rest of our lives. We still grieve, we still cannot believe it happened. We still feel some of the impact from the events of that day.
Given that this latest issue of the Sun Day falls on the 13th anniversary, we wanted to take some time out to talk. Just talk. As the author Philip Pullman states, âafter nourishment, shelter and companionship, stories are the thing we need most in the world.â We wanted to bring this to a personal level, to completely encompass how we reacted, how we felt, what we were doing, maybe even what we did after we watched the events of that day unfold.
Below and across these next pages you will see stories from our writers and contributors of the Sun Day. You may connect with some stories, you may not, but we feel the best way to remember something is by talking.
Sincerely,
Andy Steckling
Assistant Editor
Hannah Sturtecky, Writer
I was only seven years old when two hijacked planes crashed into the World Trade Center in New York City and even though I cannot remember much from that age, I remember that.
I had my backpack on and was ready to walk out the door when my mom called me over to the TV. I did not know what was going on or what it meant, but I knew it was serious because of the look on her face.
She tried to explain what was happening, but I could not comprehend the gravity of the situation. She grabbed the phone and tried to call my uncle, who was teaching at Columbia University at the time, to make sure he was safe. When she finally got through, her panic died down.
I went to the bus stop, still not really knowing what this meant. To me, the issue was far away. Even when we later talked about it in school, I was still uncertain of the severity. It was not until I was older that I realized what a tragedy this was and how naive a seven-year-old can be.
Andy Steckling, Assistant Editor
I was sitting in my seventh grade reading class, not anticipating our upcoming discussion about the homework from the previous night (the homework I had chosen not to do). Just as we approached that portion of the class, my math teacher rushed in to our classroom – unusually quiet – and immediately turned on the television.
By this point of the day, only the first plane had hit. I knew about the World Trade Centers because by brother and father had been in the basement two weeks prior, for my older brotherâs eighth grade graduation present. They brought back pictures of them standing outside the towers, them in the basement.
We watched in horror as the second plane hit. I didnât quite understand the gravity of the situation, but it hit once the principal walked in to speak with one of our students. As we learned later, her cousin was reportedly on the plane that hit the first tower (it was later discovered she had missed that flight).
Anything planned for that day was sidelined. We spent the rest of the day watching the news, talking about what this means, wishing the best for our classmate and hoping that her cousin was safe and not on the plane. I went home that night and hugged my parents, and we spent the rest of the night watching the news and just being in the company of one another.
Kelsey OâKelley, Writer
I was stirring a bowl of blue Jell-O and reading a passage out of my U.S. history textbook, waiting for a visit from my grandparents. It was a Tuesday. The array of morning tasks was typical for me as a sixth-grade homeschooler, and I was sitting at the kitchen table with the windows open. However, what was not typical was everything that followed that moment; irreversible, like a door lock that works only one way.
My mother, who watched the morning news, called my brother and me and into the basement and toward the TV. She was shaking her head at Channel 9 news. We stood there watching the coverage of the fallen buildings, one after another. We were confused and numb, like the newscasters, like the neighbors, like the whole world. Even though I was only 10 years old, I remember redefining my safety as a color on the homeland security chart. I remember my friends being sent home from school.
I remember looking skeptically at the sky.
Jim and Nancy Eggers, Columnists
Jim: I was sitting in my office watching the horror unfold on the morning news, when suddenly I realized this was no accidental plane crash. My brain had a hard time grasping that.
Nancy: I was getting ready for a girl’s long weekend in Vegas when this happened on that fateful Tuesday. Luckily our flights were one of the first ones they allowed. It was pretty eerie at O’Hare, the few people that were there were sizing each other up. The casinos were like a ghost town, you could hear a pin drop. You had to wait about an hour to cash out because they cut their staff and the slot machines were empty. I’ll never forget looking out of the plane window and seeing a fighter jet go whizzing past!
Dorothy Litwin, Columnist
It was unbelievable â almost like a science fiction movie â it couldnât be real, but it was.
I was watching a TV show, not sure which one, while sipping my âwaking upâ cup of coffee, when suddenly there was a news bulletin on the screen, and I began seeing horrifying pictures of people jumping from a tower, others with blackened faces running down the street. And more and more unbelievable scenes continued all day and night⌠the images kept coming and coming.
It was something Iâll never forget. But it was 13 years ago, and we do tend not to remember.
Tom Sansom, Movie Critic
This is an excerpt from the diary of Tomâs wife:
A day that forever has changed America and the lives of those who live here. At 7:30 a.m. in Salt Lake City, Utah, the ringing of the phone woke me from a deep sleep.
I answered with a groggy âhelloâ and I heard Tomâs voice say âwake up, you have to wake up and turn the TV on, thereâs been a terrorist attack on New York City.â
I remember trying to plant my feet on the floor as I struggled to get out of bed. I turned on CNN in time to see a video recording of a commercial airliner deliberately crashing into one of the World Trade Center buildings and then almost immediately seeing a second plane crash into the other tower.
It was horrifying and unbelievable and I thought at first it must be a movie. Over and over in my mind I kept thinking this not real, it just canât be real. Slowly as the news commentators described the events I started shaking with the realization that America has been attacked on her own soil.
Joanie Koplos, Writer
Life changed forever for my family and our country that infamous day of Sept. 11, 2001.
One minute, we all felt protected in a safe environment. The next, all safety was gone. I remember driving our familyâs aged green van that morning. I had just completed my hour of daily swim workout at the Buehler YMCA. The radio was playing my preferred 93.9 station music.
Since the local schools had just begun their fall sessions, I had a free day from subbing for Kildeer-Long Grove School District 96 in Lake County. Although I also helped my husbandâs secretary at his office in Mount Prospect, Bonnie didnât need any help that morning either.
I felt a measure of freedom from responsibilities as I drove home to do daily mundane tasks and to check on our four kittiesâ whereabouts. Then I heard the most startling news that interrupted the music station.
My first thought was that the information coming out of the radio was not to be believed. The announcer was talking about a plane that had crashed into the side of one of the two World Trade Center buildings in New York City. My only thought was that some pilot and his/her crew must have made a terrible mistake at flying the plane. Or perhaps the plane had malfunctioned? All I knew was the male announcerâs wavering voice said that smoke was billowing out of the buildingâs huge indentation left behind by the crash.
I scurried to call my husband, Nick, on one of our excavating companyâs cell/two way phones. My husband was working with our older son, Jim, on a KFC job at Spring Hill Shopping Mall, and both had just heard the same news from one of Nickâs truck drivers.
After a brief conversation with my husband, I hurried to call our daughter, Kristi, working at National Louis University and our other son, Bill, who had just moved to the East Coast to take a job with ESPN. I next called my mom and dad. I was trying to assure all family members that things would be alright.
Little did we know that more catastrophic occurrences would occur: a total of four planes would be hijacked that day and used as attacks against the U.S.
The word âterrorismâ had become embedded in our brains for the rest of our lives.
(Representing the Koplos family for the fourth year in a row and in tribute to those who lost their lives on Sept. 11, 2001, Nick will once again volunteer his time and talents in doing the stake layout for our large flag display here at Sun City.)
