This is not a photo-blog...but it is something that is in my heart today.
Today, while driving my kids to go get a gift for a birthday party BrookLynn had been invited to,
the DJ on 104.3 asked,
"do you remember where you were when 9/11 happened?"
Of course I remember.
I am pretty certain that question comes up a few times a year in casual conversation for most people,
let alone people who are in the aviation industry.
Last night I thought about writing my memories of that day for my kids to have later in their lives.
This event is now apart of American History.
It is also a major role in why their mom and dad both went to Iraq.
Anyhow, I shrugged off the idea.
I figured I could do it another time.
Could it possibly be THAT important?
So, fast forward the day to lunch time.
As a family today,
we went for a bike ride, went for a walk, played with the dogs,
(we are dog sitting an animal...I was told that it was a dog, but I am certain that it is some sort of horse or other large farm animal),
and we just decided to grab a quick bite at Artic Circle.
While waiting for our food to be delivered,
we were enjoying our complimentary ice cream cones and talking about this beast of a dog we were dog-sitting.
Then, across the dining room, I saw an older man, wearing a suit coat, slacks and a ball cap.
He was shuffling along with his cute wife when another gentleman stopped him.
He said "Fifth Infantry huh?"
The older man in the suit coat responded and next thing we knew they were exchanging WWII stories and what attachments and companies they were in.
I sent my mother a quick text, simply asking her what infantry my grandfather was in.
She responded with several different infantries, attachments and companies that my grandfather was in at some point during his 26 years of service.
I watched this older man in his suit coat eat his ice cream cone and enjoy his afternoon with his sweet little wife.
I started thinking about my grandfather and his honorable service.
He was in WWII, the Korean War (where is was captured and remained a P.O.W for 18 months), and Vietnam.
Many in his life didn't want him to go to Vietnam, but he said to his loved ones,
"If I can save one mothers' son, I will."
So, he went to Vietnam as an Advisor from late '54 to early '55.
This got me thinking even more...
I wanted to know more.
I wanted to know more about my grandfather and about his service and how he survived in Korea.
I wanted to hear his story about how he met his first wife in Germany again.
I wanted to hear him speak German.
I wanted to hear him say, "I love you Kathy."
(my grandfather and grandmother are the only ones allowed to call me Kathy,
so don't even try:)
I wanted to jump on the back of his Jazzy and go get ice cream with him.
My grandpa was the first man in my life.
I loved that man more than anyone.
I spent many mornings with him laying in his bed watching Sesame Street while grandma made her signature, soggy french toast.
He came to my dance class rehearsals.
He came to my pre-school plays.
He was my best friend.
He passed while I was in fifth grade.
It was my first introduction to loss.
It was a very hard time for me.
Fifth grade was hard enough the begin with.
My parents sent me to school with a perm and stretch pants.
Not exactly the cool kid, if you know what I mean.
But, losing grandpa, gosh, I still remember that day as if it were yesterday.
However, before that day came, Grandpa would always try to share his stories of war and of germany with me.
Remember me, the one with the perm and stretch pants
(oh ya, and braces),
I wasn't exactly the best audience.
I would much rather be watching Golden Girls with Grandma,
or be outside roller skating with the metal wheeled roller skates Grandma found for me at a yard sale.
Oh how I wish I had paid attention.
Or even if he had written it down.
Those stories and experiences would be so important to me today.
So, thanks to the older gentleman in the suit coat and ball cap,
I have realized that although it doesn't seem all that important to me today,
there is a good chance that it could be important to someone, someday.
Love you Grandpa.
 |
| 1946. Grandpa and his first wife, Grandma Hoedle. |
The next few paragraphs are for my kids...
The morning of September 11th, 2001 is still very vibrant in my mind.
It was a normal work day.
I left my dorm room with my hair in a tight bun and my bdu pants bloused.
With coffee in one hand and a toaster strudel in the other, I headed for the parking lot.
I drove the quick three block drive to work (why walk when you can drive:).
When I got to work I walked up to the building and pounded in the 'secret' code to open the door.
It was right then I noticed something was different.
There wasn't another soul in the hallway.
It was quiet and empty.
I continued to make my way in.
I put my hat and my keys in my locker and walked into the control room to 'check in.'
Again, I noticed something was a little off.
Usually the control room would be bustling with trainees and trainers getting ready to start their day.
Me included.
However, today, only one person was in the control room and only one position was open.
It was my trainer.
We said good morning and I asked what was going on.
He said wing flying had been cancelled and he told me to go do some 'self-study.'
So, I walked into the simulator room and cracked open my 7110.
It was eerily quiet.
I flipped through the pages wondering where everyone was.
So, I walked out into the hall to check it out.
My Chief wasn't in his office.
Every morning like clock-work I would get the same good morning from Cheif...
"Mary Hartman! Mary Hartman!"
I still don't know who Mary Hartman is,
but it was Chief's way of making me smile every morning.
I circled back around to the control room and asked DZ where everyone was.
He then told me that he thought they were in the break room.
As silly as it sounds...
as an Air Traffic Control Trainee,
you were NOT allowed in the break room.
Ridiculous then. Ridiculous now.
ANYHOW,
I walked right on in.
Everyone was gathered around a television.
Chief included.
Now, again, this sounds strange, at that time we didn't have a tv.
But, today we did.
I sat down and watched it for a few minutes.
By the time I saw the news they were still unsure as to what happened.
So, I grabbed my cell and called Brody (my boyfriend),
and told him to wake up and watch the news.
I told him that I thought an airplane had flown into a tower (I actually thought it was a control tower).
Within the next ten minutes the military was on threatcon extreme...
hummers with people coming through the tops with guns were roaming the roads of
Cannon Air Force Base.
Almost immediately we were discussing if we were going to go to war or not.
Most of the people that I enlisted with figured we would never go to war again in our life-time
(perhaps some of that belief came from our recruiters).
We watched the news some more and our hearts were pounding with mis-belief.
By the time the news started piecing things together,
Chief had already started the recall.
He was responsible for several young controllers and he needed to make sure they were where they were supposed to be.
Once that was done,
some of us were released for the day.
I tried to call my parents but was unable to get through.
We were unable to leave base so we just watched more news and ate whatever we could find at the chow hall.
The next couple of days brought a lot of uncertainty.
The airplanes didn't fly.
We didn't really work.
We weren't allowed to leave the base.
Life as we knew it was completely turned upside down.
We all continued to stare at our televisions.
Trying to figure out the why.
Trying to figure how our country would respond.
Just waiting.
Just wondering.
Trying to understand.
I still don't understand.
Lots of lives were lost.
We are told they were trying to send us a message.
Other than terror, destruction and heart-ache,
I'm not sure it was a message worth giving.
 |
| missing man formation. USN |
*****
