My Memories from September 11th 2001

Reposting this piece I wrote a couple years ago with a few edits about my memories of September 11th at North Shore as well a number of lives lost that especially moved me. These are my strongest memories from the saddest day of my career. By the way -- Politico has a fascinating oral history of that day and the people who were with President Bush: We're the Only Plane in the Sky -- Politico. Let's hope never to have a day like this again. 

Today is the 15th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. Fifteen years ago that morning I was out my door before 6 AM for a run. I ran over to Lloyd Beach in Winnetka to run hill repeats. I was training for the Chicago Marathon. When I got to the bottom of the hill by the lake for my first rep, I looked south towards the city. Although it is only about 15 miles along the lakefront to downtown Chicago, it is rare to be able to see the Chicago or even Evanston buildings through the morning haze, but that morning I could. That's how most of us remember that day. It was a beautifully clear morning. 

My sister Clare and me in (we think 1972) looking at the newly built trade centers

My first knowledge of the strikes on the World Trade Center and Pentagon was shortly after 8 AM. I was in the Mac Gym office on the phone trying to lock in a football opponent for the Fall of 2002. In those days, I had to find two non-conference football games and we used to look far and wide for a good opponent. I believe I was on hold waiting to speak to the Athletic Director of Oshkosh Christian School when I heard the first report. Instead of hold music, they had the morning news on and a radio announcer was explaining a plane had hit the World Trade Center North Tower in New York. It was a very short matter of fact announcement which made me think that some sort of single engine prop plane had crashed into the skyscraper by accident. 

Shortly after getting off the telephone, I learned how wrong I was. Given how vivid my memories are up until I heard the initial news, it surprises me how confused the rest of my memories of that day are. I do remember walking home to check on Kathy and Tommy (Tommy was about to turn 3) and Kathy told me the Pentagon was hit. That seemed unbelievable. I also remember sitting in the office next the Upper School Principal's office on the 2nd floor of Upper School and seeing Tom Doar come up and say we are keeping school open despite much concern. The rest of the day was a blur. 

In the months after 9/11, I would often read the stories of the lives of the victims. I feel fortunate, given my connections to the northeast and New York city in particular, that no one in my immediate or extended family or group or friends were in any of the buildings or planes that day. But I did have links to victims and it both saddened and inspired me to read about their stories. 

There was Tom Glasser who ran for Haverford College when I was in college. I remember him as a great 800m runner. But the image that stays in my mind is what a friend of his wrote about how he would see his friend Tom driving to the train station in the morning with his wife and how hard they would be laughing in the car. Tom was a great comic. I did not know Tom, but I know lots of people who did. He left a wife and two young sons and is now memorialized at Haverford College in the Athletic Center. 

There was Denis McHugh. Spelling Denis with one "n" is rare. McHugh is also not an especially common name. The only other Denis (with one "n") McHugh I know of in the world  is my brother who also works in finance. There were actually two McHugh's who died in the World Trade Center. The other was named Dennis (with two "n's") McHugh. He was a New York City firefighter. The Dennis with two "n's" left three children behind. 

But the story that sticks with me the most is the story of Rodney Dickens. Rodney was 11 and grew up in Washington DC -- the town I was born in. He had always been a stellar student despite being from a very tough neighborhood in DC. He along with Bernard Curtis, and Asia Cottom were three middle school students who had earned an educational adventure to the Channel Islands Marine Sanctuary off the coast of California. They were traveling with their teachers. I believe it was Rodney and Bernard's first time in an airplane. They were on American Airlines Flight 77 that crashed into the Pentagon. 

Out of 2,819 people who died in the 9/11 attacks, there were eight children. It is Rodney and his classmates whose memory I think of most today. They were all then in 6th grade. They were all excited and probably a bit apprehensive to leave their families that morning. As a teacher and coach, you work for moments for your students like Rodney's teachers were hoping they would have on their trip to California. I had no direct connection to these kids, but those thoughts just amplify the tragedy of the day for me. 

Sorry for the sad post today.