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Just a Normal Day: September 11, 2001
Moments after a hijacked Jetliner crashed into the Pentagon on September 11,2001.
—Department of Defense photo courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
Ultimately, we evacuated several hundred people into South Parking. We tried
desperately to assess our personnel status. Who could be accounted for? How would
we record that accountabihty? What telephone circuits were available for this task?
Where had the other thousands of people in our Directorate gone? Who had gotten
out? Who was still in the building? Who needed medical assistance? How do we
ensure they can contact their families?
As circumstances woxild have it, our condominium was virtually across the
Shirley Highway (I-395N) in Crystal City. I had crossed the local road (Army
Navy Drive and all of its perpendicular tributary roads) a thousand times over 10
years in the Pentagon. Today, I would cross without traffic Ughts, without looking
360 degrees to see who might run me over. Today, I simply led our contingent of
approximately nine people through the middle of the streets, because all of the
streets were so filled with cars that all vehicular movement had stopped. It was
100% total gridlock. We could see cars in all directions, for almost a half mile. None
could move. Cars were literally nose-to-nose in the middle of the intersection of
Army Navy Drive and South Eads Street, stopping all movement in all directions.
We finally arrived at my condo, which was on the top floor of the building. We
looked south along the Potomac toward National Airport. The Pentagon was out
of view, which was perhaps fortunate. In the midst of an emergency like this, what
do you do? Well, perhaps the natural course of action is to offer something to eat.
I prepared sandwiches and something to drink for those who wanted it. No one
was really himgry, but perhaps eating just simply says, “I need some normalcy.” We
turned the TV on, and after watching for approximately 20-30 minutes, we watched
in fixed horror as the first of the twin towers collapsed in front of a mesmerized
global viewing audience.
We set up a temporary office and coordination center in our condo for the rest of the
evening. I became the central coordinator while my boss and his aide went to the Navy
Annex just up the street fi-om the Pentagon. I would make reports to him there every
30 minutes until well into the evening. The fires started by the attack on the Pentagon
raged through the top floor areas for several days. That night, the wind was from the
northeast. The smoke it carried literally engulfed my condo and the surrounding
buildings until the next morning. The acrid smell of burning materials remained until
the wind finally shifted the next day. That smell will never be forgotten.
While all of this was occurring, the nagging concern for me was how do I tell
my wife Amry I am OK? While your duty is to perform your duty, my inner core
says the one person in the world who means more to me than anything else will
probably know what has happened, and will, like so many others, wonder. The
circuits in the Arlington, Virginia, area were simply overloaded with all of the other
people in similar circumstances. As luck would have it, we were the benefactors of
an unexpected opening in the lines, allowing me to call her front office and convey I
was OK. I knew they would let her know.
The people who did not get that fortunate call were the families of the friends
and professionals who did not emerge from the Pentagon that day. LCDR Rob (I
will not use his last name) and I had spoken three days before about his career
and my counsel on things he should consider. He and I knew each other through
our time when I was the Squadron Commodore for his ship. He was the XO
(Executive Officer). He had a promising career and was very fortunate to have
had the opportimity to be assigned to the Pentagon at this early stage in his career
progression. He had a wife and two children, both daughters. Rob was one of those
who perished instantly. He was in the office of the Army’s personnel section which
took the direct impact of the 757.1 will always remember other Army, Navy, civilian
friends and colleagues just as I will remember LCDR Rob.
In my 32-year career, I have been in live minefields in the Persian Gulf, worked
with our Special Operations Forces and other intelligence operatives in clandestine
environments, been through hurricanes
of 45-foot seas, and coundess other
events which challenge an individual’s
emotional and physical abilities.
September 11,2001, remains the day and
the moment and the event(s) which I
carry with me daily—and which so many
in our nation carry with them daily. An
image accompanying this article is of the
American flag that was draped over the
Pentagon. It was actually draped over the
office where I was on that historic day.
Fourteen years have passed, yet it is as
clear to me today as it was then. I hope
that we, all of us, will never forget.
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