September 12, 2001

Needless to say, we didn't make it to Japan yesterday. We were supposed to leave on United from Logan
terminal C at 9:30 am, and were probably in the middle of boarding at the time the first airplane struck the
World Trade Center. The first indication we had that anything was wrong was a message from the flight
attendant that our flight was delayed, and later that all flights in the US were currently grounded. My first
irrational thought was "My God, someone's nuked Chicago," because I couldn't conceive of a reason to
ground ALL airplanes in the US other than a nuclear attack. The flight attendant told us to take our belongings
and disembark, which we did. One of the members of the flight crew was standing at the front of the airplane
listening to the phone that's by the door. He had tears in his eyes, but he was still trying to smile for the
passengers as we filed by him. It occurs to me now that he must have had known the crew members on the
previous flight and had learned that they had been killed. When we got off the airplane, we were told only
that there had been some kind of terrorist attack and that two airplanes had crashed into the World Trade
Center. We didn't know what *kind* of planes. The terminal was evacuated, ("everyone, please move out of
this area as *quickly* as possible") but we were still requested to collect our checked-in baggage, which
still strikes me as odd. I don't remember any of those pacifier TV monitors being on in the waiting areas, so
they must have shut them off to prevent us from gathering around them and/or panicking. I remember walking
out past the security checkpoint and hearing one of the security women remarking "we're all going to be fired
tomorrow." At that time we passengers didn't know that some of the terrorists had been cleared through that
same checkpoint probably less than two hours earlier, so I thought to myself "why, aren't there going to be
any more flights ever again?" All of us were confused and shaken, but there wasn't really any fear at that
point because we had no idea what was happening at that time. It took about an hour to get our bags. While
we were waiting, someone with a shortwave radio (thank goodness for nerds!) told us that a plane had
crashed into the Pentagon, and it began to occur to people that someone might crash a plane into Boston. It
was pretty surreal. Everyone had their cel phones out but no one was getting through. Lines were forming for
the pay phones as well. I tried to call my Mom in upstate NY, but the line was busy, and I figured tying up
the phone lines was non-productive, so I gave up. After we got our bags, we schlepped them back to the car,
which was on the top floor of the parking garage. I looked around and was relieved to see that there weren't
any plumes of smoke on the horizon. Raspberries to Logan for still charging us $10 for being in their parking
lot for two and a half hours. We took the long way home and listened to the horrors unfolding in Manhattan on
the radio. Traffic wasn't bad. There were a lot of lone men in suits driving out of the city, so many of the
white-collar workers must have been fleeing homeward. Surreal, surreal, surreal. I saw a man planting
flowers outside a restaurant, oblivious to what was happening further away from him than the next hole in the
ground. I saw a middle-eastern market with its door open and hoped that it wouldn't be attacked overnight.
We stopped and called our parents from a pay phone. My mom was crying. She watches too much CNN. It
didn't help that I had called her from Logan at about 8:50, saying: "bye, we're getting on the plane now!" I
was sorry I hadn't tried to call again earlier, but I was alive, and really, during a disaster the emergency
people need the phone lines clear.

I think things didn't really register until we got home and saw the images. Like the sight of the rocket
boosters of the Challenger spiraling separately up into nothingness, payload gone, the images of that second
airplane flying into the World Trade Center will stay with me forever. Each time I see it, I still expect the
plane to come flying out of the other side, instead of the fireball and the cloud of documents fluttering like
confetti on the roiling black smoke.

It's at times like these that I wish I could believe in a God. If I did, I could think that those people who
suffered and died on the airplanes, on the ground, in the buildings, are in a better place. I could pray for their
families and for the safety of the rescue workers who are risking their lives to recover the living and dead. I
could pray for tolerance and restraint in our own country, in our own government. Unfortunately, I can't. So,
if you're reading this, and you believe in a deity, please say those prayers I can't.

I have so many hopes and fears at this moment. I take small comfort in knowing that those flights were
relatively empty, but realize that may have been precisely why they were chosen as the targets for hijacking.
I'm grateful to the flight crew and passengers of the Newark flight who must have sacrificed themselves
resisting their captors, and thus saved countless more lives. I'm awed by the heroism and determination of
the firemen and police. I hope more may be found alive. I'm afraid for the safety of Arab-Americans and
innocent foreign nationals in our country and fervently hope that there are no hate crimes perpetrated in the
cause of vengeance. I hope that we, the American people, are wise enough to accept that rational thought and
calm deliberation are preferable to hasty retribution, on what was supposed to be the eve of another round of
Middle East peace talks. I hope we are able to capture those responsible and yet avoid a war.

I'm still going to go to Japan this month. At first it seemed disrespectful to continue plans for a leisure trip
when so many have suffered and died. I'm still torn about it. Yet, I feel that the proper response to acts of
terror is defiance. Yes, thousands of Americans are dead, but there are still hundreds of millions more of us
left. We are not going to give terrorists the satisfaction of seeing us cowed by vicious acts. We are going to
continue working and playing and living as normally as we can, even if it's painful, because that robs them of
their victory, and ultimately, their reason to continue to perpetrate such acts.