Reflections on our nation’s capital — Sept. 11, 2001

On Sept. 11 last year, I was on leave from Northern Arizona University and working for the National Science Foundation (NSF) just outside Washington, D.C. four miles from the Pentagon. The very next day, I wrote the following:

We’re all Okay here, physically, but very upset. I’ve often referred to living in DC as living at “Ground Zero,” but never thought just how accurate I was to be. I was at work when word (approximately 9 a.m.) of the first plane hitting New York City was released. I was certain it was an accident (the radios all thought so too) and was reminded of the accident in 1945 when a military plane hit the Empire State Building. The Empire State took the hit and was repaired ... surely the World Trade Center would survive.

Shortly thereafter, word arrived about the second plane. I was shocked … everyone was. This was no accident! We all gathered around the elevator corridor TV at NSF and, as we were watching events in New York in utter disbelief … word came over that the Pentagon (four miles away) was just hit. I hurried to the 12th floor to see, but taller buildings blocked the view. A little while later a woman came into the 12th floor. She was crying and visibly shaking. She’d just driven past the Pentagon and saw the plane fly low overhead and slam into the Pentagon. Several car accidents immediately followed on the adjacent highway, very near Regan National Airport.

Then came the succession of wild rumors (but no one knew it then) ... Another plane had hit the Pentagon, the State Department had been bombed and the National Mall was on fire. People were running around with new versions of what happened and worrying about friends and relatives in and around the Pentagon and elsewhere. By 10:30 a.m. word came down that the government offices were closed and people were to go home.

I answered a few more phone calls (grantees still want their grants whether or not there is a government), called my wife, Marilyn (who was frantic by this time after seeing jets flying low and rapidly over the house), and I prepared to leave. A few people were talking about the Metro subway system and, although it was said to be running, I thought it best to avoid using it ... I didn’t want to be trapped in another attack ... underground!

I had an offer of a ride home but figured traffic would be a nightmare. I would walk home. Home is about six miles west of here and one way is along a bike path. I could certainly use the slow, peaceful, almost certain, way to get home. So I walked, and indeed, passed many cars in gridlock along the way. They were not moving. Ultimately, I may have gotten home sooner by walking.

Outbound (from DC) traffic was at a standstill, gridlock; while inbound was strangely quiet … but for police cars and emergency vehicles racing past every few minutes, racing at top speed toward DC. I got home and, like everyone everywhere, stayed glued to the TV and talked with neighbors, family and friends.

Our neighbor works beside the Pentagon and, from his window, he watched the devastation. His boss was walking into the Pentagon for a meeting and should have been inside but was running late. He watched the plane soar directly over his head and nosedive in. He missed his meeting.

My young sons, Robbie and Eric, have classmates who cried when they heard. They have a parent who works there. The boys are home from school today (Sept. 12).

I walked to the White House and Mall area today. The whole area is eerily quiet. Not many people are around and most appear somber, not the usual tourist banter going on. Security is everywhere and very apparent.

I talked with a few guards outside the White House and told them that I just couldn’t focus at work and had to come down. They said it appeared that many people were doing the same — that people just had to walk by to be reassured that all was, on the surface at least, in some degree of order. I struggled to hold back tears. The Pentagon was evacuated again today. The fire is still out of control. The latest, early estimate is 800 feared dead. The Metro won’t stop there. I hope to go there tomorrow or Friday.

For all the mess here, New York City is worse, much worse. Two hundred fifty floors of building are lying in rubble at the bottom of Manhattan. I just can’t believe that! As the towers fell, people watching from the street, all in spontaneous unison raised their hands to try and hold them aloft. It was too horrible to believe.

I, like all New Yorkers, feel some ownership of those towers. I watched them go up in 1970. I walked along the 85th floor before the building was opened. The windows were not even in place … I don’t even know how I got up there, but I had terrific views over the city and New Jersey. My brother used to work there (he’s in Philadelphia now). My niece lives just one mile north (she was in Queens at the time and still can’t get home).

I still can’t believe all the damage. I feel so helpless and I still can’t focus at work, and so therefore, you all get to read my ruminations. I want to visit my sister in New York this weekend. Maybe that’s not a good idea (for lots of reasons), but I need to see her and I need to see New York City. It’s all very confusing to me … and to us all. We are at war and we don’t know yet against whom!

Note: In remembrance of those lost, we will be posting the names of the victims of 9/11 in the lobby of the Biology/Biochemistry Building at Northern Arizona University on Sept. 11 this year.

(Larry Fritz is an associate professor in biology at Northern Arizona University and director of the NAU Electron Microscope Facility.)