I will never forget – when around 9:04 a.m. on Tuesday September 11th, 2001 I heard on CBS radio 880 a small plane had impacted one of the Twin Towers. I rarely called Doug during our workdays but left him a message to call me when he could to let me know all was ok. I figured I’d hear from him by lunch. I’ll never forget answering the inter-classroom phone in my kindergarten classroom around 10:15 am, violin in hand, getting ready to play happy birthday to Danielle. Her hair in braids and wearing her birthday best, she was turning 5. I picked the phone up from the receiver, turned around and gazed into the hopeful and excited eyes of my students, filled with the thrill of singing “Happy Birthday” and eating birthday treats. I will never forget when my forever friend Sherilyn Alessio Ferdinando told me what had happened within 15 seconds of answering that phone, hopeful, happy gazes still on me. Joy turned into horror. I felt sick. Thoughts raced through my mind in slow motion, if that makes sense. It was only the fifth day of school and we hadn’t had all of the emergency contact cards back. Did Danielle’s parents work in the towers? Did they hold and kiss her one last time, wishing her a happy birthday, promising her they would celebrate after they reunited later that day? Did any other children have parents or relatives who were working in the towers? And where was my husband? I got off the phone, smiling and said, “Let’s sing!”. Happy Birthday we sang. Writer’s Workshop we did. We played like Kindergarteners play. I kept things as normal and peaceful as possible as I knew tomorrow could be horribly different. I’ll never forget when dismissal came and oodles of teachers volunteered to ride the buses to ensure each child was received by a loving arms of someone familiar - my forever friend Sheri was one of them. I, instead, returned to my classroom to do the busy things teachers do after their students get on the bus - waiting for that call. Unbeknownst to me, my coworkers waited in the office until I finally heard from Doug around 4:00 and his experience of the day – it started when he was getting off the subway under the WTC when the second plane hit – his assignment was in the Deutche Bank Building. The details that unfolded left us in shock. I will never forget when I got home at 6:30 p.m. (the Southern State parkway was closed past the Meadowbrook going west for a while) and I saw Doug’s shoes at the door. They were the same soot covered shoes that littered the streets downtown from people who ran too fast to care about them or from people who were injured or perished. The shoes on our little doormat were a blessing that the man who wore them to the city that day, helped those in need despite his own safety and saw things no one should ever see, came home to me shaken but stronger than the day before. Thankfully the parents of those in my class were ok. Some in our district were not. I will never forget the support and caring of my co-workers and principal that day. I will never forget the victims that did not place their shoes on their doormats that night as my husband did. I will never forget the courage and bravery of each and every person affected by that cowardly act of terrorism. I will never, ever forget.
Posted on: Wed, 10 Sep 2014 11:41:33 +0000
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