Summer@Home: I Remember...

On September 11, 2001, I took my son to daycare like many working moms, then came home to begin my work day. I remember walking past my bedroom door when the phone started ringing. It was my sister, which was not unusual.

"Where does Stuart work?"

Now that was unusual. No hello. No how are you doing. Just straight to the point ... where does our brother Stuart work?

"I don't know. In Manhattan somewhere. Why?"

"Turn on your TV."

"Stace...what's going on?"

"Just turn on your TV."





When I turned it on, the Twin Towers were burning. I don't remember details ... like whether both towers had yet been hit. If one of them had already fallen, or if they were both still up. Those images and the ones I was glued to for the hours, days, and weeks afterwards are all melded together until I can no longer remember what was live and what was Memorex.

What I do remember was panic. Stuart had moved into a new office recently, and I honestly couldn't remember where it was. It could be in the World Trade Center. He could also possibly be visiting a client in the World Trade Center.

I had to find Stuart.

"Stace, I'll call you back. I've got to find him."

I called his cell. No answer.

I called his home. No answer.

I called his wife's cell. No answer.

Panic.

I drove to Sandy's school and checked him out early. I wanted him nearby where I could see him and touch him and hold him.

Finally, we heard back. Stuart's office was in Midtown Manhattan, not in Lower Manhattan near the World Trade Center. But he wasn't in Manhattan at all that day. He was off the island at a meeting.

Relief.

Sandy at WTC Site, December 2001

I realize that I was only one of thousands ... maybe millions ... trying to track down a loved one that day. I also know that there are thousands of families who did not get to breathe that sigh of relief within hours. Or even days. Or ever. Including Stuart and his wife, who lost a dear, dear friend that day. They had to go to his apartment to get a hair sample from his brush to aid in identifying his DNA.

I can't imagine.

Our lives were altered that day. There will forever be "before 9/11" and "after 9/11." I know we'll never go back to "before." But I pray that some day we will be able, as a country, to remember without reliving. Remember without fear of repeat.

Just ... remember. And be somber and thankful that there has not been another "before and after" in our lifetimes.