This post is not about flooring or about marketing. It’s about a day, ten years ago, that is etched in my memory. Every year since, I thought about the people that perished and the things I did, but this is a special day. Ten years have gone by and the recollections are as fresh as in 2001.
9/11 has always held awe, inspiration, utter sadness, tears and hope for me.
There are few venues for people to really say what they think and feel about this day. Please consider this one of these outlets. You can write to my email slorek@odm-online.com, or comment right here.
This is my 9/11 story.
I worked for a company that was launching weather and traffic channels in Holland, Germany and England. On 9/9, 2001 Tom, Mike, Pete and I left for London, Glasgow and Leeds to conduct a series of focus groups to see if we had a viable product. You’d think that British people would be interested in weather since they had so much of it. We were correct, by the way, but that’s not important.
We arrived on 9/10 and took the train to Glasgow, Scotland the next day. A great experience. There were old-fashioned “stewardesses” on board who served us tea and crumpets. I’m not making this up.
We arrived in the early afternoon and – after driving around for a few dozen miles, found a hotel downtown. My phone rang in the room. It was my boss, Tom, asking if I had my TV on. I said no. He said – turn it on now. Something happened in New York and it’s on every channel. I switched on the set, saw the towers burning and could not believe my eyes. I called Mike one floor above and asked if his TV was on. It was broken, so I told him what I was seeing. He said – very taken aback – you don’t make jokes about things like this! Realizing that he thought I was “taking the mickey out of him” as the English would say (making up a story) I told him to come down to see for himself. He did and we spent the next hours glued to the set.
I have no idea what happened that evening. The four of us probably went out for dinner, discussed what happened and next day’s agenda and that was that. I know I came back to my room and cried because the magnitude of what had happened finally sunk in.
We conducted our focus groups and boarded a train to Leeds, where we did the same, boarded another train and ended up in London. By this time we knew we wouldn’t be able to fly back home. Every plane was grounded. None of us had cell phones that received emails (2001!) so we took frequent trips to Kinko’s and made good use of their Internet connections to find out what was going on back home. We walked back to the hotel, talking animatedly to each other and suddenly realized that something was going on. something had changed in the environment, there was a palpable atmosphere but you couldn’t put your finger on it for a few seconds. We stood still on the sidewalk and saw every person and every car stop in its tracks, church bells were ringing but there was no other sound: no car horns, no human voices, nothing. Tony Blair had called for a minute of silence and a whole nation came to a stand still. The world around us was literally at a freeze frame. People had come out of their office buildings to stand in the street, heads bowed. This was such a profound moment for me that I still tear up and get goose bumps thinking about it.
We went to a bookstore, a restaurant, just down the street, no matter where we were people would come up to us. Our obvious American accents gave us away. They talked about what happened, wondered if we had loved ones in New York, the Pentagon or Pennsylvania, wanted to know if we were all right. We were the tangible “America” that the Londoners could express their feelings to first hand. The overwhelming impression for me was that of a global community, a kinship across borders that formed in a matter of hours and days. We were all on the same planet and none of us could put into words the horror, the why’s and the sorrow we all felt.
One day, we walked in the embassy district. Close to a small park we encountered a large crowd and found out that this was the home of the American Embassy. The line snaked around the park and it was difficult to see where it ended. A book of condolences had been started and people waited patiently for their turn to sign it. I looked up and on top of the Embassy building was a bronze eagle with its wings spread wide. It looked as if to say: “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”
The next day we had breakfast on the top floor of the famous Harrod’s department store. We were sitting at the window looking out over London and a good bit of clear blue sky. Suddenly, I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. It was a plane. The first one we had seen since the tragedy. It meant that we could go home. We all flew out on different days and various cities but eventually ended up back at the office.
We are living all over the four corners of this nation now but we’ve emailed each other every year since ten years. We recount little anecdotes and remembrances. Mike sent us this one today: “I remember that old pub, with the sign above the bar that said: “don’t drop lites on floor – it burns hands and knees of our patrons”.
We will never forget our experience, nor the lives lost, nor the sense of family we felt from our British friends.
Susan Lorek
warrentyler
floorsareus
