Sept. 11, 2001: A Decade Later

As the 10th anniversary of Sept. 11, 2001 appraoches, Patch will be taking a look at where Restonians were that day and how life has changed since then.

I was working at a law firm just three blocks from The White House, a job I had held ever since law school.  I was a little too distracted and a little too sleepy to listen closely to the anxious conversations of fellow Metro passengers as they described an event in New York.

However, as I emerged from the elevator and made my way down the hall to my office, the managing partner called all of us into a conference room where a television served as the center of our attention.  A somber voice described the reputed crash of a commuter plane into one of the towers of the World Trade Center.

When the first tower fell less than 40 minutes later, the Pentagon had been struck and there was a persistent but unconfirmed rumor that a car bomb had been set off at the State Department.  My wife and children were two counties away in Virginia and I grabbed my jacket and tried to find a way to get back to them.

The bridges were closed and I figured that my best chance to get home would be to walk toward a car rental place a number of blocks east.  I went to an ATM and took out the daily maxium of $300 in anticipation that credit card machines would be as useless today as my cell phone had alrady proven itself to be.  When I arrived, despite the presence of nearly a dozen cars on the lot, I was informed that none were available for rental.

I doubled back toward my office and began walking north on 16th Street toward the Maryland suburbs, a plan which was incomplete at best.  In my leather dress shoes and suit pants, I was soon walking through neighborhoods where the shops advertised cigarettes sold one at a time and checks would be cashed for a fee.  I had no reason to expect that I would find help from strangers here on this day.

What I did find on that walk was that shopkeepers came out of their stores and handed me bottles of cold water and snacks.  After almost four hours, I arrived at Silver Spring Metro Station to find that the trains were not running even at the furthest points.

A kind man quickly opened his car door and offerred to take me as far as the Gaithersburg station in hopes that I could call my wife from there and she could come pick me up.  He apologized that he could not offer his cell phone for me to use but said that he could help me find a pay phone.

When we got to the further station, I began to walk toward a bank of phones but was stopped within a few feet by a woman who had been shuttling people to their homes all day.  She waved me into her car and said she would take me all the way to the train station where my car was parked. 

She drove me 45 minutes west, took me to right to my car, and then turned around to help some other poor soul find his or her way home.  She refused any compensation and said that she was just glad she could help.

I walked in the kitchen door and my wife couldn't even speak.  She had said that she was going to pack our children into the car at 4:00 p.m. and drive toward Washington if she hadn't heard from me by then.  It was 3:42 p.m..

My son was four years old at the time. He had no idea what had happened that day, but he was glad to see me home so early.  He looked at his disheveled father and giggled, "Daddy, were you playing outside today?"

This is the first in the series. If you would like to share your Sept. 11 story, contact Reston Patch editor Karen Goff at kareng@patch.com.