I didn’t think I had anything to contribute for the memories of 9/11. I live in Sunnyvale, Calif. I remember waking up to the news about the first tower getting hit. I usually wake up at 6 a.m. Everything stopped on KCBS. I remember they skipped over some traffic updates because of the news that was coming in. The first tower falling. The west coast was now joining millions of others in disbelief of what was taking place. I remember then turning on the “Today Show.” The day became very surreal from that point on. The Pentagon had been hit.
Then it hit me. The company I worked for had east coast offices in the capital area. What were they going through? I knew I had to go to work. My path to work took me passed the street where our CEO lived. I remember glancing toward his house and I could see his car half parked in the driveway. You know when you’re backing out and someone stops you so the car is partly in the driveway and the street not straight. I got a chill. I got worried. I wasn’t sure I wanted to face this crazy day and all it may bring.
Our CEO had left a companywide message concerning the incidents. He said he had spoken with the East Coast and everyone was accounted for. He also told us that if we needed to be at home with family and loved ones we can do so and it wouldn’t come out of our vacation or sick time.
The week went on, numb, but the week went on. Friday a number of memorials were starting to take place. I couldn’t sit and work, I asked for the rest of the day off. I went downtown San Jose where a prayer service was taking place. At the end of the prayer service I remember the first planes flying back into San Jose Airport flew overhead. We were OK, sort of. I attended many prayer services in the weeks following the attacks. I donated money. I had to do something. Maybe it was a form of survivor guilt. We didn’t physically get hit on the West Coast but we are Americans.