Where were you?

Just like the generation before us will always remember where they were when Kennedy was shot, I am convinced that my generation will grow up to tell their children where they were on September 11, 2001.

For me I was in my junior year of college living in a small apartment off campus with my best friend Jenica. I was getting ready for my morning class and listening to a local radio station when they began reporting that an airplane had hit one of the World Trade towers in New York City. Not immediately realizing the seriousness of what was happening they began making jokes about drunken pilots or inexperienced flyers. I then moved into my living room to sit on the couch and eat my morning cereal while I watched Fox News. They were covering the plane wreck and showing live shots of the World Trade towers when suddenly another plan came out of nowhere and crashed into the second tower. I screamed, and then just sat there in shock. Several times I had to remind myself that I was not watching a movie or a television show. This was happening in real life and in my country.

Six months later I traveled to New York City with three friends from UCO to spend our spring break talking with students from Pace University and helping at the World Trade Center Relief Shelter. Little did I know that these 5 days would change my outlook on life and volunteerism forever. It would also make me proud to be an American (but not for the first time ;) ).

The first place they took us was ground zero. This experience brought out mixed emotions. I wasn’t able to fully experience it the way a normal visitor would because they had set up interviews with several newspapers and we literally had cameras flashing in our face the entire time. (I hated it. Now I know why famous people freak out on the paparazzi)

We started the week with a conference on terrorism and round table discussion on how these horrible acts can affect a community and generation. While I believe that this time was well spent I have to say that I was a little restless. Those of you who know me know that I hate talking and I want to DO. I was ready to roll up my sleeves and get to work.

Finally I got my wish when we were taken to the relief shelter to work with the rescue workers and construction crew. Remember that this was 6 months after the tragedy and they were still searching for victims. In fact, we had an up close tour of ground zero scheduled but they had to cancel it because 13 bodies were found the day we were supposed to go.

I don’t know how to put in words the thoughts and feelings that were going through my head while we were at the shelter. Here we were in an old fire station that was stuffed from floor to ceiling with everything you could possible imagine an emergency worker would need. Our job while there was to help take inventory and fill the needs of the workers that would come in. We would give them clean dry socks; new boots; coveralls; gloves; cigarettes (yes I’m serious); shovels; and, my least favorite, body bags. We also served as confidants. They would come in from 12 hour shifts working at ground zero and just want someone to talk to. These were mostly young men in their early 20s who had to work in cold, rainy conditions and see things that no one should have to experience. Some had lost friends and relatives in the tragedy, others just wanted to help because they felt it was their duty as a New Yorker.

One thing that I will never forget from this experience is the vast amount of respect everyone in the city gave to the victims, their families, and the emergency workers. The shelter we worked in also served as a make shift memorial to firefighters who lost their lives. The gentleman who “ran” it was a former captain who, at the time, was serving as the head of the Hammer Team. This was the group of firemen who were first on scene whenever there was an anthrax threat. Whenever a family member of a victim would come in the place would go silent out of respect. No one talked, radios were turned off, and everyone rushed to do whatever they could to make them feel comfortable. Another ‘tradition’ was at ground zero, there was a long ramp that went into the pit and when someone’s remain were found all construction workers and firemen would stop what they were doing. An ambulance that was always placed at the top of the ramp would turn its lights on and everyone would stay that way until the remains were removed. I witnessed this once while there and it was an eerie yet proud moment.

If something like September 11th ever happened in our country again I would not hesitate to drop everything and go to help out. As Americans it’s our duty to help each other out no matter that person's race, religion, or personal beliefs. I consider that a privilege of living in the greatest country in the world.

This is Anthony Reinhart. A student from Pace University
who served as our tour guide for the week.
I feel honored to have spent that time with him.
He is a bright young man who is going to do BIG things.

In this picture is Hilary Fite, Laura Beth Wren,
a younger skinnier Marilyn, Kate Thrift (Lindley),
and the guy who headed up the Hammer Team (I wish I remembered his name)
at the relief shelter.