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Community Corner

I Remember and I Will Never Forget

New York's World Trade Center holds special memories for this Plainfield resident, and she pays tribute to those who lost their lives by lighting a candle every Sept. 11.

The weather on the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, wasn’t unlike the weather is now as I write this. Clear skies and cooler temps with a bit of a nip in the air, reminding us that cooler weather is on the horizon. 

I remember being at work very early that day.  I was going through a divorce, still living with my soon-to-be-ex (who worked at the same place I did) and feeling a tremendous amount of stress. As I did on most mornings, I headed to work early to have a Diet Pepsi and some oatmeal in silence while reading the news online or catching up on work. 

I happened to be lost in thought, staring out the window when my phone rang. The confusion in my friend’s voice at the other end of the line caught my attention. “Did you hear anything about a plane hitting the World Trade Center?”

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I said I hadn’t, but turned to my computer, pulled up CNN and sure enough, there it was -- the breaking news banner telling tale of the first plane hitting the North Tower and the fire and smoke billowing out of the gaping hole.

From that moment on, my world changed. 

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As the morning progressed, the news spread through my office like wildfire as co-workers arrived after hearing the news on their car radios. People were glued to their radios or computers as news came across that the first plane was NOT a fluke. There was another, and this time it hit the south tower. This time we see it live. 

People started crying. CNN online became very slow as news-seekers around the world wanted information on the terrible tragedy. Our usually non-stop ringing phones were silenced as people became more concerned with the news playing out on every TV station in the world. 

Half an hour later, we learn that a plane has hit the Pentagon and news reports that the Sears Tower has been evacuated and streets closed in downtown Chicago as security measures were put in place.

Another half hour later, we watch in stunned silence as the south tower comes crashing down. 

It is reported that this is the result of a terrorist attack and all planes are grounded.

Terrorists? Here? Things like this just don’t happen in the United States! 

At the time, I lived in Hillside, a small suburb just inside Cook County where Interstates 290 and 294 meet. Our house was in an O’Hare Airport flight path and there were times when all conversation had to stop until the DC-9 (which was the worst) flying overhead was gone. 

When I got home that night, I noticed how eerily quiet it was.  Neighbors were gathered, talking in hushed tones and even the white noise sounds of the highway traffic was significantly dulled.

I sat glued to my television, watching the destruction in recaps, picking up information I had missed earlier in the day.  I cried again as the towers collapsed. I felt like I was losing a friend. 

You see, I was no stranger to the World Trade Center. 

I had been to New York many times. That happens when you date a guy from Queens. We always did the touristy stuff while we were there and the World Trade Center was one of my favorite places to go.

In 1991, my boyfriend took me to the top of the Empire State building straight from LaGuardia Airport instead of heading to his grandmother’s house in Forest Hills. 

It was a hot and humid summer night in Manhattan and I remember the body odor smell of the elevator as we rode to the 86th floor. There, overlooking uptown, he proposed to me, a tribute to my favorite movie, An Affair to Remember

From there, he took me to Windows on the World, the restaurant on the 106th floor of the North Tower, where his cousins waited for us with champagne. There, we celebrated our new engagement with a toast overlooking the skyline of Manhattan and watching a laser show in the haze that hung over the city. It was magical.

It was ironic to me that the towers were destroyed at the same time my divorce was becoming final, an irony that did did not escape many of our friends and family.

Later that night, I learned that my husband’s cousin (the same one who had champagne waiting for us that night) had run late that morning. He generally took the train in from Long Island and then would go into the terminal at the WTC, since he worked in the financial district there. 

Had he been on time, he would have been in the WTC when the first plane hit. Thankfully, he was late that day, and while he had to walk back to a platform in the dark, he was safe and able to go home to his wife and son -- something so many did not do that day.

That night, I started a vigil that I carried out every night for a full year. I lit a tea light in my lantern outside in memory of those who lost their lives. 

Now, I do it each Sept. 11 in honor of those who lost their lives, and those who survived. For those who rescued, and for those who died trying.

Last year, my daughter asked me why I did it. How do you explain to a 6 year-old about this kind evil that lurks in the world? But I did.

I told her what happened that day, why it happened and who did it. I told her I light the candle in memory of those lost and for those who survived. I told her how you could look up and down streets in America and everyone flew the American Flag. 

I told her, I will NEVER forget. Sadly, now neither will she.

Lori Janiec is a blogger for Plainfield Patch.

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