Ask Erik: Episode Thirty-Two

Here at Ask Erik we've spent a lot of time reading novels and comic books, playing video games, and watching television and movies in order to amass a deep vault of pop culture knowledge.  While constantly trying to still gather new information, it only seems prudent to share some of what we have learned to help solve some of the world's greatest questions.

Will the Xbox One or the Playstation 4 win the next console war, or will the Wii U suddenly surge up?  What are simple ways to save money while eating great food?  Are the basil flavored Cadina pea snacks the best snack food ever?

Yes, they are the best snack food ever.

Once a week Erik tackles a question asked to him and tries to answer it in a method that handles the topic with the respect and attention it deserves.  Failing that, he'll at least try to make it funny so you don't regret reading it.

To Erik:  Where were you when "It" happened?

I'm assuming we aren't talking about the release of Steven King's It, either the novel or the movie.  If it is the movie, I was ten years old at the time and was probably more interested in the fact that Home Alone was coming out in a month.

It's a pretty safe bet that we're talking about the terrorist attacks on the Pentagon, the World Trade Center, and the plane crash in the Stonycreek Township in Pennsylvania.  I was twenty-one that year.  Earlier in the year I had visited Ireland, and the only thing to worry about on planes was bringing Foot And Mouth Disease back from the countryside.  I was thankful I was allowed to keep my shoes instead of being required to throw them out when I got back to the United States.

I also graduated from Southern Maine Community College that year with a degree in Liberal Arts.

As of September 10th, I was working at the deli counter of the Yarmouth Hannaford, slicing meats and cheeses, restocking potato salads, and occasionally preparing chickens on spits for a rotisserie.

I remember getting up that morning to my buzzing alarm, showering, having a quick bowl of cereal, and then leaving in my Suzuki X-90.  I idly thumbed through the radio stations and heard a lot of talk but nothing much really being said.  At the moment I as going through, it was close enough to the hour that I figured a lot of it was simple recaps of the news or upcoming weather reports.

I arrived at work to find it eerily quiet.  Not many people go to grocery stores early in the morning anyway, but this time it felt eerily quiet.  I punched in, donned my apron and gloves, and prepared for the day.  It wasn't until after the first few customers that I realized something was happening in the world, and I finally managed to overhear someone explaining to the woman in the fish department that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center.

I'll admit, I didn't realize it was serious at first.  I thought it might have been a single-prop personal plane, one of the small ones you see pulling banners behind them or being used for private citizens to enjoy short flights.  I thought there would probably be a few deaths and some injuries, but it didn't have as huge an impact then as it would later.  I continued working behind the counter, and did my best to keep a bright, cheerful attitude, and talked with customers about things other than airplanes and New York.

At my first break, I went upstairs into the break room and found the television was on and tuned to one of the major news channels.  I was able to see the smoke billowing out of the first tower, and the second one hadn't been struck yet.  At the time, there was no talk of terrorism, and this is where I first picked up that it had been a large commercial aircraft that impacted it.  I sat and watched silently during my break, and then went back downstairs with the latest news to share with other people.

Shortly afterwards a customer came in and notified us that the second tower was also on fire, that a second plane crashed into it as well.  People at the store started to get grim.  One airplane crashing into a building like that...well, there was a chance it was just pilot error or a mechanical issue.  Two airplanes, and you knew it was deeper than any possible accident.

I continued my shift through the day, but went on break at ten o'clock.  By then, one tower had collapsed, but my brain was having trouble picturing a structure like that falling like that.  I had seen New York City within the year prior and was struggling to picture a gap in the skyline.  At ten twenty-eight I stood up to go back downstairs to punch in, and the second tower collapsed as I watched it on television.

I went downstairs and told everybody what happened, and many employees ran upstairs to see what was happening.  There were still customers on the floor, so I stayed at the counter and helped them, continuing to do my best to smile, say something positive about the day, ask them how they were doing, or try to make small talk about anything I could find, whether it was the ingredients in a good Cuban sandwich, the upcoming weather, or simply discussing the context of trying to perform required daily duties when such a big event was occurring.

During my last break I heard the first mentions of television about terrorism, with rumors flying with everything from the Middle East to anarchy groups to drug cartels to Russia trying to spark a new war.  When I finished my shift, I went home with the radio off, mentally and physically exhausted from having spent the day trying to help the people around me keep their composure and not collapse into the event as it unfolded.  Right before I left my supervisor placed his hand on my shoulder and whispered a "thank you" along with a "you did good" to me for trying to help keep emotions from flying out of control and being both a sounding board and source of comfort for employees and customers who came in.

The roads were empty as I drove home.

After I got home I spent time looking online and watching the news, letting the full seriousness of the situation hit me.  I heard the proposed numbers of the people who died, I heard more details about the plane crash in Pennsylvania, and I saw the first footage I had seen of the Pentagon.  

The next few days were just as emotionally draining, with my doing my best to try to keep peoples' spirits from sinking too low, and trying to find, if not "cheerful" news stories happening around the country, trying to at least keep attitudes at "neutral" or above.

The scariest thing, however, was that my father was in Washington, D.C. when it happened.  He was trying to get back home the day the event occurred, and was caught in traffic as people swarmed out of the city.  He was barely able to contact my mother with his phone before it cut out and the phone system got completely overwhelmed in the area.  We found out later he spent time helping groups of people coordinate to get cabs together, including the one he took to get to a train station so he could start to make his way back north.

It was a day that's forever vivid in my memory.  Even other details, such as the layout of the break room, which meats and cheeses were on sale, and how the fish were arranged are clear in my head from working at Hannaford, but always in the context of that one day.  

Strangely enough, the other thing I vividly remember after 9/11 happened was the sudden panic in Maine regarding the lobster industry.  Without being able to fly their stock to other places around the country, the lobster dealers were going to lose all their supplies and the local economy would be devastated.  I remember the news outlets pleading with people to buy lobster, and individual lobsters were approximately two dollars each (or per pound, I don't remember exactly), and I was coming home for several days with bags full of lobster to cook.

It's still strange, in my head, to think of the dichotomy between the heavy emotional impact of the time, with an entire nation in mourning for those who were lost, with the hunt for survivors still underway, and with talks of retaliation against whoever did it ringing across the airwaves...

...and mine and many other families in Maine were sitting down for several nights in a row having meals that would seem opulent and indulgent.

Every time I leave the house on this anniversary, I remember how empty the roads were.  I listen a bit more carefully when I hear official-sounding voices talking on radio stations that don't normally have serious voices talking, and I've become a regular follower of news around the world.  I remember getting tired of lobster dinners and never feeling as tired when I got home from work as I did those following days.  I know I wasn't a first responder, a volunteer to help locate survivors, or even a major contributor to any charities compared to so many other people who had better means to do it, but I at least hope I was able to help other people get through the event a little easier.