At first, I thought a small plane had crashed into Sears tower. When I stumbled down stairs with the Princess just in time to watch the first tower collapse live I called Big Daddy and begged hm to come home. It seemed like we were under attack and it was all I could do not stay as calm as possible to not upset the Princess. Big Daddy was working on airport grounds that day an not only had they gotten two of our planes, but after the crash in OH, I was afraid they were working their way west, towards us and Big Daddy.
The phone rang off the hook all day with people calling to make sure Big Daddy, for any reason, wasn’t on one of the doomed flights.
We spent the day with Big Daddy’s uncle. His cousin was a new Marine reservist and we knew we were headed to war.
On the Cantor Fitzgerald website they listed each person who had died along with a picture and you could read things people had written about them. I read until there was a post from a wife speaking about her toddler daughter missing her “Da”, the same thing our toddler aged Princess called Big Daddy at the time and I cried until I got sick.
I secretly memorized the identifying features on Big Daddy’s body in case I ever had the horrible task of identifying him from only a small swatch of his body.
When the planes started flying again, an American Airlines jet sent out a distress signal and the scrambled fighter jets went super sonic over our house. I was in the kitchen having lunch with the Princess when the sonic boom pushed against our garage door twice. I have never felt such fear in my life as I did that moment as I struggled to piece it all together, hold it all together and figure out my escape route at the same time.
I will never again board a plane without considering what from my now limited supplies I could use to disable or kill a terrorist.
I will likely never live again without a plane in the sky.
I will never ever forget.