Originally posted on September 11, 2009.
Eight years ago today, my morning began much like any other early fall day. I was roaming the airport in search of coffee and a bagel, mentally celebrating a successful morning launch of kick-off flights at Washington National Airport (DCA) on September 11, 2001. I was one of the Customer Service Managers at DCA on duty for American Airlines that day.
During a visit with our operations agent, I heard a radio call from our first inbound flight of the day. The crew had a question, “had we heard anything about an incident in New York involving a United flight?” The operations agent and I both looked at each other in agreement that we had not, but I immediately got on the nearest computer to find cnn.com. I’ll never forget the picture of smoke billowing from the first tower, and the caption “Aircraft Hits World Trade Center. Details to Follow.” I immediately went to our conference room where I knew I would find access to a television. By the time I arrived there, the second tower had been struck, and the newscasters were spinning replays of the aircraft striking each tower.
By this time phones were ringing and my boss, the station general manager had arrived in the conference room. He took a call, while other managers from flight, flight service and maintenance began to gather. Upon hanging up the phone, he stated that they think 77 from Dulles is involved. And with that, things got real. I immediately returned to operations where our ops agent informed me that two flights that had just pushed were returning to the gate. He’d just gotten off the phone with dispatch, and learned that American was grounding all of its flights and that we may have had an airplane involved in New York.
I proceeded out to the gates to assist as our flights returned. The first passengers were coming off and I was immediately stopped by one of them who wanted to know about the possibility of getting rebooked on another airline. No, I’m not making that up! She was nice enough about it, but wasn’t interested in giving me a minute to figure out what was going on. As we stood there discussing the situation at DCA’s gate 28, she happened to glance out towards the north, and immediately asked “what’s that?” I turned to see the strangest color of smoke rising just above the tree line in the direction of the Pentagon. I responded that I wasn’t sure, but that I thought that it might be a good idea to leave. Within seconds, an announcement was made throughout the terminal to evacuate the building. I didn’t know it at the time, but our flight 77 had just crashed into the Pentagon.
I could tell you a lot more about that day, and the weeks that followed. The mass exodus from the airport on foot as F-16s criss-crossed the skies above, and the sick smell of burning jet fuel wafting through the air. I was certain more aircraft would follow at this point, and half expected to see one plow into the Washington Monument, the Capitol or for that matter, our airport at any minute. I could tell you about taking a team of airport agents to Dulles to stand in while the folks at Dulles grieved for the loss of one of their beloved colleagues, a 45 year AA employee, not to mention the shock of being the origin of flight 77.
I could also talk about walking through an empty National Airport terminal at 5:30am a few weeks later. It was an eerie place with most of the lights turned off and none of the escalators running, the silence only broken by the sound of my shoes hitting the floor as I walked through on my way to pick up the lay off packages I would have to deliver to people that didn’t deserve it. I could say a lot, but I won’t. I think I’ve made my point.
I remember.
-MJ, September 11, 2020
Author’s note: I’ve posted this same blog for a number of years now, and I don’t feel any need to change that habit. These few paragraphs represent the best short summary of my recollections of my day as a Customer Service Manager for American Airlines at DCA on September 11, 2001. (Note: I left American Airlines for other employment in 2004.) This is by no means a complete picture, and obviously, I wasn’t working alone that day. I’ve long thought I should write down the longer version of the story (like why the suit jacket I was wearing that day was covered in grass when it found its way back to me a few months after 9/11), and perhaps that is what I will do when we look back on 20 years since 9/11 a year from now.
I never dreamed the airline industry would face a greater existential challenge than 9/11, but here we are…..in 2020. Here’s to a brighter 2021.
Very Sad incident
If I might share my 9/11 story, here it is:
On a sunny morning in Minneapolis I took my seat on a jet for Phoenix, eager to get to a staff retreat. It was September 11, 2001. I found my seatmate, a woman Wells-Fargo Bank executive, particularly engaging and after takeoff we soon were describing our work lives and what enthused us. Some time later, we were interrupted when a flight attendant rushed up to the drinks cart beside my seat and whispered to the other attendant, “Stow the cart; we’re going down!” I still remember how wide the second attendant’s eyes grew.
Shortly after, the pilot came on to say, “I’ve been flying for 35 years and I’ve never received a transmission like I just got. It says that all flights on this frequency are to land immediately; I’m trying to confirm this.” Shortly after that, our flight made a quick, steep and abrupt landing at Omaha, NE, where the taxiways were filled with other planes. As we taxied, we passed Air Force One. We shuddered to think what was underway.
The terminal was fairly chaotic, and frankly, we were left to fend on our own with no instruction; both we and our baggage was disgorged from the plane. Crowds clumped around tv monitors showing the Twin Towers. We began to realize that no flights would resume for the foreseeable future. In my daze I wandered over to the rental car section only to find that more brilliant minds than mine had concluded earlier than I that we all needed a car to get home. The lines in front of each agent at each desk were 50+ deep. No chance there for me.
In this mess who should call out my name but my kind seatmate. Amazingly, she had hunted me down in the packed terminal to offer me a ride back to Minneapolis – an eight hour distance – in the rental car she already had! She explained that her even-more-brilliant assistant back in Minneapolis, realizing from reports that all planes were being put down en route, had reserved a rental car for her boss at EACH airport the flight would be passing over! I smiled as she spoke to her fiance’ on the phone and said, “Now don’t freak out, honey, but I’m bringing a guy back with me. He’s a minister.”
The real memorable conversation was the one my seatmate and I had over those eight hours on the drive back to Minneapolis, now intensified by the events and shock of the day. We talked about momentous and substantive topics, on life and its purpose.
It was my true pleasure and comfort to have been befriended and given a precious ride home by a perfect stranger.
Fantastic story, David! Thank you for sharing.