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Twin Towers, internet image |
September 11th, 2001, is one of the dates that
people will clearly remember where they were, and what they were doing when the
world as we knew it changed forever; the day the Twin Towers in New York City
were destroyed.
Lawrie and I were on a four-day getaway from our jobs.
We had driven from our home in the Okanagan Valley of BC, Canada, to
Yellowstone National Park, located where the states of Montana, Idaho, and Wyoming
meet. It was a quick, laughter-filled trip to visit the imaginary Yogi Bear in
his home at Jellystone Park.
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The day before, enjoying Jellystone Park |
Early in the morning of September 11th, we checked
out of our hotel and stopped for coffee at a cute café in Helena, Montana, that offered
baked goods and lattes. As we waited for our coffee to be crafted, the news suddenly
switched to a live report from New York City; a plane had struck one of the
towers. As we stood with our mouths hanging open, we watched a second plane hit
the other tower. A chill of fear rolled up my spine. This was incomprehensible.
“We have to get back across the border. Now!” Lawrie
said.
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Helena for coffee |
“Yep. Let’s go.” I agreed. We had no idea what was going
on, but we were not in our own country, and all we could think of was getting safely
home before the border closed. We paid for our coffees and sprinted back to
our Pontiac Firebird.
We had a Sirius satellite radio in the car and set it to
the public broadcast system, listening intently for more information.
We drove slightly over the speed limit, heading to the
border between Orville, Washington, and Osoyoos, BC, Canada. It was the easiest
crossing for us as we were familiar with the I-90 route passing through
Missoula, Montana, and Spokane, Washington. We didn’t have smartphones or Google
Maps in 2001, but we knew it was about a thirteen to fourteen-hour drive to our
house.
A short time later, we had to pull the car over and listen
in disbelief as the broadcaster explained that the towers had collapsed, and
that another plane had crashed before hitting the White House. We had no words,
we just listened in stunned silence. Lawrie sadly shook his head and restarted the car. He swung onto the road and continued driving towards home.
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Lawrie, Jellystone Park on Sept 10th, 2001 |
Fortunately for us, we always shared the driving and could
just keep moving northwest, only stopping for gas for the car, more coffee, a little
food, and bathroom breaks for us. Every stop was stressful; people cried and
hugged each other, or silently stared at the televisions reporting yet more tragedies
and destruction.
We arrived around midnight at the Orville/Osoyoos crossing.
We were the only vehicle at the normally busy facility. We asked the customs
agents if the border was closing. They said they weren’t sure, but
at the moment, we were good to cross over.
“Drive safely!” I remember the guy saying as we drove
away. That was the first time we had ever heard a comment like that from a
customs agent. His world had been badly rattled, too.
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Bison in Yellowstone Park |
The winding dark road between Osoyoos and Penticton was
more difficult than the previous thirteen hours on the main highway. The dark country
road passed by vineyards and orchards with hungry deer haphazardly crossing in
front of our vehicle. We had a few near misses, but managed to arrive at our
house without an accident.
What the hell had happened to our world?
I remember the eerie silence – worldwide, the planes had
been grounded. People were offloaded at odd locations around the world. In
Gander, Newfoundland, a tiny community of about 10,000 residents on the farthest
edge of Canada, helped 6700 passengers from 38 planes. For three days, our world
was as silent as my childhood memories, before commercial aircraft flights became
common and affordable. I remember the fear, the uncertainty, and the bewilderment.
My neighbour Sue was on her own for a few days. She wasn’t answering her
phone, so I paid her an unscheduled visit.
“Sue, Sue. Are you okay?” I yelled as I knocked loudly,
then opened her front door.
Both she and her hubby Lloyd were very surprised. I am
pretty sure she wished she had never given us a spare key to their house, if
you get my drift. My impromptu visit provided a little neighbourly humour in a very stressful
time.
Our world was changed forever by this tragedy. Strength and peace to those who lost their loved ones on this
day in 2001.
Sunrise September 11th, 2019 Isla Mujeres |
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