My September 11, 2001

Quick note: On September 11, 2001, tragedy struck thousands of Americans. Many lost their lives. Many more lost their loved ones. The seemingly random act of whole-scale violence shocked a nation and the world. Many, many people have stories much more tragic and horrific than mine. While September 11 was a personal tragedy for them, the day made an impact, small or large, on most every American. This is my story.

September 10, 2008 - Part 1

The seventh anniversary of the attacks on the World Trade and Pentagon is upon us. The moment causes all Americans to reflect on the immense loss of that and brings back some of the fear, anxiety, and outrage we felt on September 11, 2001 and afterwards.

I lived and worked in Washington, DC on September 11, 2001. My story did not end in the tragedy that thousands of my fellow Americans (and others) did on that day. But it is a day etched in my personal memory all the same.

Like we hear about New York City, on September 11, it was a beautiful early fall day in Washington. The hot, humid weather of August was finally behind us and I could again enjoy my 10 minute walk to work without sweating up a storm. I was in pretty good spirits. I liked my job. I loved living on Capitol Hill even though it was in the city's tiniest basement apartment. September 11 was my one month wedding anniversary. My wife and I had married while in the slow, muggy month of August while Congress was in recess--August 11, 2001. We spent our August honeymoon driving along the coast of Nova Scotia, Canada; admiring the ocean, eating fresh seafood, drinking wonderfully bitter bear, and staying in quaint, overpriced B&Bs.

I had been back to work for a couple of weeks at my job as a professional gerrymanderer. We were creating and analyzing Congressional redistricting plans to maximize the advantage for Democrats. Things were going well.

My wife and I had moved out to DC on faith without jobs two weeks out of college. We both had the good fortune of quickly snagging some jobs and had been in DC for a little over a year. After getting married we discussed how much longer we would stay in DC. We loved it, but we knew it wasn't the best place for buying a house on two nonprofit salaries or to raise a family. We were Midwesterners at heart and imagined we'd return eventually. I had advocated staying through the next election season, 2002, and figuring out our next steps in early 2003. She was working on the campaign finance reform fight and wanted to see it through.

As I said, I enjoyed my job. It was high pressure at times, demanding, inflexible--but I was young, flexible, and loving being in the middle of all the political stuff in our nation's capital. So, work was great, but my favorite part of the day was walking to work.

We'd wake up sometime around 8:00 AM, get ready, eat a quick breakfast, and be out the door. My wife took the bus or subway to her job in an office building between Dupont Circle and the White House. I would walk about five blocks to my work. I walked past a couple Senators' homes and past the security detail in front of a Bush cabinet members' row house. I walked past the old brick building that housed the Friends Committee on National Legislation (FCNL). This being the darkening days at the beginning of the Bush years, it was nice to see the peace-loving Quakers on the Hill and knowing they were fighting the good fight.

On my left I could see the Capitol Building behind the old, towering trees. On my right a couple blocks was Union Station. I crossed the street to find myself on the sidewalk along the Hart and Dirkson Senate office buildings. Often I would see Senators I recognized and VIPs (usually from the Pentagon) arriving for hearings. Mostly, it was the Senate staffers that had the good parking who were streaming down the sidewalk.

On one occasion I saw Senator Clinton hurry in with a team of Secret Service agents. I hadn't been paying attention and nearly walked right into an agent who had deftly planted himself on the sidewalk. I looked up just in time to see Senator Clinton less than 10 feet away from me. Occasionally, I'd see Senator Kennedy arrive in a minivan driven by a staffer or discover that I was walking next to Senator Barbara Boxer, who, by the way, is unusually attractive for a woman in her 60s and is very short.

Crossing the street you always had to be careful. Even with Capitol Police on site pedestrians were endangered of being hit by the reckless DC motorists. I had had a couple of close calls. Once, Rep. Juanita Millender-McDonald (CA-37), whipped around a corner and came a foot or two from my knees. (She had never slowed down.) On another occasion, a person who looked suspiciously like Sen. Patty Murry (WA) driving an SUV into the parking lot behind the Senate office building nearly knocked me over in the crosswalk.

On the morning of September 11 I don't remember any close calls with vehicles or Secret Service agents. I simply continued by the Russell Senate Office Building and across the park directly north of the Capitol, where I again could glance at the dome. This was the park I'd often see Senator Kennedy's dog out romping around, a couple times with the Senator, but usually with a staffer or intern. In the middle of the park stood a fountain where you'd often see people taking wedding photos on Fridays and Saturdays. Up on the left stretched the National Mall and I could also see part of the National Gallery of Art. In between, on Constitution and 2nd St NW, a very posh office building was being constructed to house the offices of some to-be-determined Washington moneyed-interests.

I crossed the street to my building and took a couple of fresh breaths of the peaceful, fall air before I entered. That morning I was to have a meeting with a couple of chiefs of staff of some Democratic representatives from a certain eastern state and possibly their bosses. They had been obtuse jerks in previous meetings, so I wasn't looking forward to seeing them this morning. I got on the elevator and that was the last normal part of my day.

Tomorrow: Part 2. Attacks. Fleeing central Washington. Returning. Leaving.