I've told this story before. But now that I live in NYC, I am thinking about it constantly. That terrible morning, I had my choir in my new classroom at Kimberly High School. We were going to rehearse the National Anthem for the homecoming football game. As the kids were settling down, the principal came on the PA telling teachers to turn on the televisions in our rooms because it "appeared something is going on in New York." I grabbed the remote, motioning my students to sit on the risers. The picture popped up just as the second plane hit the tower. It was shocking. We watched for a few moments. My first thought was of my dear friend Travis. Where was he working that day? Was he in the area? I knew he lived in Queens far far from the financial district. But he could have been down there.
I dialed his number from my office. All lines were down.
My students stood up and held hands, weeping, and sang the Anthem. It was all we could do.
One student began crying. Her mother was on the east coast and flying back that morning. She didn't know if her mother was alive or on one of those planes. When she became distraught, I walked her to the counseling office. I arrived in their office to see the first tower fall. The student became frantic.
I returned to my room, trying to call Travis again. Many of my students stayed in the choir room all day. Their safe place. We tried to process what was happening. Periodically, I called Travis' number. All lines were down.
I contacted the principal of my daughter's school. I asked them not to let her watch this and to be sure that she wasn't worried about Travis who had become like an uncle to her.
When I got home, I found that my little girl, Kelsey, had been watching all day with her babysitter. For months she drew pictures of people falling out of buildings, people crying, planes hitting buildings. It was terrifying.
I kept trying to call Travis. Finally around 5 pm I was able to get through. It was his voicemail. I said, "Travis, it's Carrie, Are you ok?" and began crying into the phone. All the hours of holding it together for my students, for my own children, came crashing in on me.All the death and terror and anguish hit me. Two hours later, Travis called. Safe. His beautiful wife was safe. His first words when I answered were "Are you ok?" AM I OK? But that is typical of the love we share. Kaitlynne had indeed been worrying about Trav and Jules. When I told her they were safe, she cried. Over the next months, students and parents tried to figure out if our choir/band trip to NYC would still happen. We decided to go. We went to the ramp. We saw the pile, still smoking in places. That day 16 bodies...16 fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers...16 people, were found. We saw the miles of posters, teddy bears, cards, mementos. We sang at the Statue of Liberty, the hole in the Manhattan skyline clearly visible.
Kelsey continued drawing the dark, sad pictures. Eventually, I took her to NYC to Ground Zero. She looked at the immense mountain of steel and rubble. And on her own volition, knelt on the sidewalk and prayed. She never drew another of those pictures. She is now a crisis counselor helping to heal and save lives.
plan to go to the memorial site tonight after work. I plan to lift my prayers again for the victims, for their families. For this world that changed irreparably that day. Will you join me in prayer, a thought, an intention? For the hearts that will never heal. For the hatred and hurt in the world? Thanks for reading.
I dialed his number from my office. All lines were down.
My students stood up and held hands, weeping, and sang the Anthem. It was all we could do.
One student began crying. Her mother was on the east coast and flying back that morning. She didn't know if her mother was alive or on one of those planes. When she became distraught, I walked her to the counseling office. I arrived in their office to see the first tower fall. The student became frantic.
I returned to my room, trying to call Travis again. Many of my students stayed in the choir room all day. Their safe place. We tried to process what was happening. Periodically, I called Travis' number. All lines were down.
I contacted the principal of my daughter's school. I asked them not to let her watch this and to be sure that she wasn't worried about Travis who had become like an uncle to her.
When I got home, I found that my little girl, Kelsey, had been watching all day with her babysitter. For months she drew pictures of people falling out of buildings, people crying, planes hitting buildings. It was terrifying.
I kept trying to call Travis. Finally around 5 pm I was able to get through. It was his voicemail. I said, "Travis, it's Carrie, Are you ok?" and began crying into the phone. All the hours of holding it together for my students, for my own children, came crashing in on me.All the death and terror and anguish hit me. Two hours later, Travis called. Safe. His beautiful wife was safe. His first words when I answered were "Are you ok?" AM I OK? But that is typical of the love we share. Kaitlynne had indeed been worrying about Trav and Jules. When I told her they were safe, she cried. Over the next months, students and parents tried to figure out if our choir/band trip to NYC would still happen. We decided to go. We went to the ramp. We saw the pile, still smoking in places. That day 16 bodies...16 fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers...16 people, were found. We saw the miles of posters, teddy bears, cards, mementos. We sang at the Statue of Liberty, the hole in the Manhattan skyline clearly visible.
Kelsey continued drawing the dark, sad pictures. Eventually, I took her to NYC to Ground Zero. She looked at the immense mountain of steel and rubble. And on her own volition, knelt on the sidewalk and prayed. She never drew another of those pictures. She is now a crisis counselor helping to heal and save lives.
plan to go to the memorial site tonight after work. I plan to lift my prayers again for the victims, for their families. For this world that changed irreparably that day. Will you join me in prayer, a thought, an intention? For the hearts that will never heal. For the hatred and hurt in the world? Thanks for reading.