Days to Remember

Everytime holidays intended to memorialize something roll around, I tend to feel a bit disconnected because I wasn't there. I wasn't at Pearl Harbor. I'm not a Veteran.

I wasn't in New York on 9/11. But I had been in Seattle. I saw the second plane hit the World Trade Center live on the news because I was sitting there on my Pacific coast time waiting for my jeans to dry in the dryer. That was my worry for the morning- having clean jeans for work.

Katie Couric inaccurately reported on the morning of September 11th that an Airbus 767 had just crashed into the second tower of the World Trade Center. I thought "What a dumb bunny. It's either a Boeing 767 or an Airbus plane." I imagine I felt all official because I could tell airplane models apart now that I was at Boeing, much the way I barely had known a Toyota from a Chevrolet before working at General Motors and could now tell the make and model of a car from its headlights in many cases.

I definitely know I had zero comprehension of the impact as I was waiting for the clothes dryer to shut off. I got to work, and at the time, it was the Boeing Everett wide-body airplane factory. The one that makes the Boeing 767's. The path I would take to my desk literally required passing beneath an airplane wing which made me flinch that morning.

By the time I got up the elevator people were chattering about it and talking about crazy stuff like there were a bunch of other planes involved and that the White House had been a target. It was sounding like a bunch of overblown chatter.

But I got to my desk and could barely access the internet. Somebody said it was because it was jammed with activity. I still was a little perplexed. I called Alan. And as my resident current and historical events walking encyclopedia, he spouted off words I had never heard like Osama Bin Laden and 'terrorist cells'.

I hung up. My manager came by shortly after and asked our group to stay in the area and be prepared in the event of an evacuation (the building occupies 30,000 employees.... we cause our own traffic jams at shift change on a normal day when people aren't hurrying anywhere except out of the parking lot to go home).

The insanity that hit the East coast that morning never met the West thankfully. I walked back under that airplane wing to leave on my way home that evening and realized I was now connected to a day that nobody understood. As I've tried to explain the event to my sons I can sense the same disconnect that I know I showed with Pearl Harbor Day or Veteran's Day or Memorial Day. I hope they grow up to be respectful of what has happened and what has been done to prevent any other such event, but mostly, I hope they never, ever are connected to their own day of memorium. I hope my sons live a life where they honor what has happened before their time to give them a life free of terror, disaster and needless loss.

-Sheryl