My Story Of 13 Years Past

Throughout our lives we encounter moments that change us. Define us. Remind us; remind us that life can change in an instant. In those moments, we never forget where we were or what we were doing.  If you were old enough to understand what you saw, you, too, have a story of the events of this date - 13 years ago. What's yours?

Mine began at, what I thought, would be the end of my day.  I was working overnights on KROC.  After my shift was over and my off-air work was done, I headed home around 5:30 am, not unlike any other work day.  I would tiredly climb the stairs of my first apartment near Mayo Field.  But for some reason, I was still wide awake at 7:46 am that morning; the time of the first plane's impact.

Like most everyone, I didn't really understand what I was seeing at first; shots of Tower 1 with confusing and conflicting reports of an accidental incident involving a small plane, perhaps a Cessna.  I began thinking how unbelievably difficult, almost impossible, it would be to save people and put out a fire at such a height.  As the minutes ticked by, something unsettling came over me, like thoughts that maybe it wasn't an accident.  What were the odds? In all the places to drop from the sky, this plane, of what it was becoming more apparent was of a very large size, hit a building of the WTC's magnitude - and did it so directly; almost as if on purpose.

Just 17 minutes later those back-of-mind ideas became real when Tower 2 was struck at 8:03 am.  When the shock wore off, that what I was seeing was, indeed, really happening, I became paralyzed by fear.  This is intentional.  This is supposed to kill people.  Who else?  Where else?  Are we next?  Where do I go?   What can I do?

I knew I could do something.  I knew that at the time we had no TV in the studio. Streaming live events online wasn't really a thing yet; at least not practical enough to see events unfolding as instantaneously as these were happening.  I called the station's hotline number, to which an equally-concerned James Rabe answered (something else that was unsettling to me since we was one of my mentors and was normally cool as a cucumber, even under the most stressful conditions).  I could Cori Jensen giving the latest from our newswire feed in the background as James put my line on live to describe what I could see while I, clumsily and aimlessly, flipped through channels; seeing the same images of EVERY channel.

Reports were coming in, some more crazy than the next, on every network.  "There's a bomb outside the State Department."  "There are snipers on the streets Manhattan."  A dozen planes were on their way to Washington, Pittsburgh, The Sears Tower in Chicago."  Every channel had information more scary than the last and none of which we could discern was fact from fiction.  There are reports of an explosion at The Pentagon; news that took many minutes to confirm and detail.  James put on as many as many calls as he could since lines were jammed with everyone wanting to give us updates from things they'd also seen and heard.  The bits of news we were getting from you and our resources were invaluable, and something I look back in amazement of, not really realizing at the time how we were already uniting in the most chaotic of times. This exchange with you, I, James and Cori would last 56 minutes until the next unthinkable thing happened...

At 8:59, Tower 2 comes rocketing towards NYC's streets, almost like a bad CG effect in a movie.  A listener was mentioning how Dulles International Airport in Washington had been reportedly shut down as I uttered, "Oh my God......"  James stopped everything and asked, "Oh my God? Lew, what's that?  What's Oh my God??"  I could only utter, "...The building, it just collapsed...the whole top half of the building is gone(not yet knowing that through the smoke and dust that the entire building had fallen)...it's fallen onto the streets of New York...You can't see anything from the bottom half... It's all dust and smoke...The people....." It was the last thing I could manage to say(from what I remember) while maintaining some sort of calm before James took us to break to gather more information and give us time to compose ourselves.  He said thanks and quickly hung up.  He took audio from ABC News(that we would stay with continuously for the next three days).

 As I stood there, now done with what I came to later recognize as my single toughest.roughest/heart-breaking day I would ever have in radio, a feeling of hopelessness and fear gripped me again.  I would slowly pace the apartment, half-heartedly changing the channels in the bedroom and living room, not even knowing what I was doing anymore.  I wandered outside, then back in.  Sit.  Stand.  Pace some more.  Get angry.  Calm myself down.  Start to cry.  Breathe...  30 minutes more. Tower 1 collapses.  More fear.  I knew I could do no more by going back to work, but felt I had to be there for whatever reason.

I arrive to almost everyone, from those who work on-air, to sales staff and management, are all standing around TVs and listening to network news; now airing on all our stations simultaneously.  No one is moving; ,just watching, listening.  In the news room there's a old printer continuously printing more news, now just piling on to the floor.  The pile, an indication of more unimaginable horror, goes on and on, untouched for what seemed like all morning.  I walk into the studio, seeing Cori first, looking visibly shaken.  We hug, the only reaction that seemed right at the time.  James is pacing.  Tracy McCray is in KROC AM's studio, clutching a TV remote, mentioning she knows of people in the Pentagon; praying they are OK.

I wander the building with no destination, no set task to do.  Minutes tick by.  Then hours.  I decide I would finally leave and head back home to face the rest of the day by myself.  I would lay stunned on the couch for hours, watching the images of the day play over and over as my eyes finally succumb to their own weight a little after midnight...