My story of 9/11

Every year as the anniversary of September 11^th approaches, I am filled with apprehension about how I will feel.  Will I be sad? Angry? Or will I, as time passes, be numbed by the distance time creates and begin to feel…nothing?  They say time heals all wounds, and the saying does apply to me as it relates to the events some 11 years ago.  But healing and forgetting are two different things, and as each year passes, I become more and more steadfast to never forget.

Many people have asked to hear about my experience that day and I am happy to share, as well as relay some of the lessons I have learned.  I was a week shy of my 24^th birthday and headed to New York for 3 weeks of training.  I would like to keep this brief and tell you that what happened in a nutshell was:  I arrived for training on the 9^th.  On the morning of September 11^th, I was in training at 7:30, took a break at 8:45, one minute before the North Tower was hit, and began evacuating down the stairwell from the 61^st floor a few minutes later.  At 9:03am the South Tower, my tower, was hit, the plane crashing into the 78^th floor creating a hole between the 78^th and 84^th floors.  I walked down 61 flights of stairs with thousands of others, drenched in jet fuel, and sure, for the first time in my life, that my life was over.  I prayed.  I prayed for forgiveness for my sins and for blessings on all those I was going to leave behind.  The slow trek down the stairs took 45 minutes.  I made it out about 10 minutes before the tower collapsed at 9:59.  The remainder of the day involved a lot of running (in stilettos, no less), and calls to loved ones.  The condition of the city is nearly indescribable.  I exited the towers to be faced with a barrage of dust, smoke, blood, crying, sirens, people… more images I could hope to forget than have the time to tell.  I made it home through divine intervention.  Through the grapevine, my cousin Alex, who was also in New York on business, found me at my hotel.  We made our way to Penn Station and boarded a train for Chicago.  That ride took 3 days and I’m told by Alex I didn’t eat, drink or sleep the entire ride.  I think it’s fair to say I was in shock.  Upon arriving in Chicago, we rented a car and were home in Minneapolis on Friday.  That’s it, in a nutshell.

I could regal you with more of the gory details, but I think it’s best that all those go left unsaid.  What happened on September 11^th was called an act of terrorism because it was truly terrible and evoked terror in all those that were so unfortunate to live out the events of that day.

But none of this is what I think about every Anniversary.  I am sure when I reach the end of my life and imagine the list of pros and cons, moments of pain and love, the experience of 9/11 will be near the top of the 'bad' list.  But when I review the balance sheet of my life, the truth is, I am abundantly blessed.  And September 11^th provides me with the opportunity to every year, be grateful.  To have perspective.  To pause for a moment and give praise and glory to the gifts of my life.

This year, in particular, I have come to know the true value of family.  My children teach me how important it is to slow down, take pause, and shift your focus to what truly matters most; that which gives you love.  I am sure that many of you reading this are people I have hurt, ignored, forgotten.  For any pain I have ever caused; I’m sorry.  Truly.  And for everyone who has given me their support, compassion, friendship and love; thank you.  I know sometimes I get too caught up in my own life to say it, but no act of kindness goes unnoticed.  I am profoundly grateful.   My life is blessed because of all of you.   My life is a life filled with love.  I will never forget.

Mary Regan McNiff, 9/11/12