As we watched, all I could think about were the people trapped inside those buildings and those who had already died. It was horrifying beyond anything I had ever lived through, and I had survived the Battle of Bull Run. But at least there we had known our enemies. Who would want to bring terror upon New York City in 2001?
“Do they know who did this?” I asked.
There was silence as several people shook their heads, shock on all of their faces.
“They’re saying the airplanes were full of passengers when they were hijacked,” said a man in a hushed voice. “So it wasn’t just the people in the towers who were killed. This could mean thousands of deaths.”
“The last time America was attacked like this,” a woman said in quiet dread, “was Pearl Harbor.”
Pearl Harbor. I had tried to push that reality to the back of my consciousness, but it was there again. I couldn’t imagine the horror I would have to endure right before my eyes. At least here, watching the Twin Towers burn, I was safely sheltered over two hundred miles away.
In Hawaii, I would be in the midst of the attack.
My cell phone rang, and I pulled it out of my purse. Mom’s phone number appeared on the screen. “Hello?”
“Meg, are you watching the news?”
“I am. I can’t believe what’s happening.”
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of your dad, but no one is answering the phones in his office. Do you think he’s okay? Have you heard anything about other planes?”
“I’m actually at the Pentagon,” I told her. “I came to surprise Dad. He’s in a meeting at the Navy Yard. Dorothy said he’ll be back in his office in about thirty minutes.”
“Oh, thank God.” Mom let out a shaky breath. “I’ve been so worried about him.”
“He’s okay, Mom.” I’d never heard her so worked up. “I’ll have him call you when he gets back.”
“Thank you.”
“It looks like President Bush is addressing the nation,” I said as the news broadcast was interrupted by an emergency message. “I’m going to listen to what he has to say.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Bye.”
I hung up and clutched my phone as I watched the president’s address. A split screen showed President Bush at an elementary school in Sarasota, Florida, as well as the smoking Twin Towers in New York City. He briefly shared that the towers had been hit, that he had spoken to the vice president, the governor of New York, and the FBI, and had ordered the full resources of the federal government to assist the victims and their families. He promised to hunt down those responsible for this apparent act of terrorism, and then asked for a moment of silence.
When he was done, a newscaster started to recap what the president had just said, but all we could do was stare at the television screen, watching in horror as the towers continued to billow out black smoke.
“We should probably get back to work,” Dorothy finally said. “We’ll know more as the day unfolds, and we’ll likely be needed.”
“Go call your loved ones,” said a woman near the television. “No one in those towers knew today was their last morning at work.”
A few people murmured in agreement, and several left the cubicle to go back to their own desks.
I followed Dorothy to my dad’s office, wishing he would hurry. I had been looking forward to a quiet, restful day, but now all I wanted to do was get back to my apartment and turn on the news. Heaviness weighed on my chest as I thought about all those who were suffering in New York City. The fear and uncertainty must be horrifying.
The phone rang, and Dorothy answered. I was so caught up in my own thoughts, I didn’t realize she was talking to me until she said my name.
“Meg?”
I turned to her. “Sorry?”
“It’s your dad. He’d like to talk to you.”
I took the phone and smiled my thanks. “Hey, Dad.”
