Where were you when the towers fell?

Twin Towers, internet image 

September 11^th, 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.

The day before, enjoying Jellystone Park

Early in the morning of September 11^th, 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.

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.

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.

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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