Reflections on 9 11 and the Meaning of Home
On Sept 11, 2001, I was in a tiny mountain town in middle America. I only had my two boys, lil man was yet to come, but one was a toddler and one still an infant. The kids and I had been chased from our home due to wildfires, so we went on the road with their dad who co-owned a little two man asphalt operation that repaved grocery parking lots.
That morning I awoke and padded down the hall the gather continental breakfast items for my tribe. Armed with a tray overflowing with pancakes, cereals, muffins, oj's and milks, I made my way back to set up for breakfast.
After setting the tray down, I turned on the television for company, hoping to catch some news before the boys awoke requesting Elmo and Dora.
There was something about the world trade center. I proceeded to spread out the breakfast items, but then stopped because something registered in my brain. I cannot rec all what was said, but I stopped mid pour to focus on the television.
Seconds later, I watched a plane hit the tower, soon learning it was the second one.
Confusion and shock were the first impressions, followed soon by a drive to get things done. I was overdue with the laundry, so after cartoons and baths the kids dad and I took everything down to the laundromat. He and his partner decided not to work that day due to circumstances.
We had lunch while the clothes were drying. Eating outside, we noticed there was an eerie lack of normal noise. It seemed the whole town was toned down; all the normal street noise, honks, talking and passersby...
The visuals were of a normal Tuesday morning, however the audio was muted.
My (then) husband and his partner decided to pause their upcoming contracts. He wanted to get home to his wife and kids, who lived near New York and were freaking out. We decided to go west and stay with some family, as we couldn't go "home" to Montana due to the fires.
We packed up and left that afternoon.
I noticed noticed a number of hitchhikers who appeared to be homeless as we were leaving the area.
Driving across the country over the next two days was a surreal experience. Every restaraunt, gas station, and hotel we stopped at had the same feel of being on mute. People moved about slowly; robotically. Usually when you're on the road theres a general energetic comaraderis among the travellers- it feels good to get off the road and stretch so the energy is high. But not this trip.
The entire nation was in shock.
When you are on the road a lot, you see a fair number of hitchhikers. Generally one or two every couple hundred miles. But in the days following September 11, there were hundreds of hitchhikers on our trek west- to the place we would call "home". They had pets, carried belongings inn boxes and black plastic bags- clearly not ready for a journey but desperate to leave nonetheless.
Everyone was trying to get "home".
Everybody has a home to go to. Even wanderers, vagabonds, and "homeless" have a place they are drawn to when things go wrong. A place where they feel the most secure.
Home can be where your family is, or your "home"town you grew up in. Home can be a person whom you cherish- I used to have a person who quite literally felt like home. No matter where we were, I was comfortable and secure and felt like I was home just from being with him.
Home is where your truth is known and accepted. Home is where you can close your eyes and sleep safely and soundly. Home is the warm and comfy feeling of knowing that no matter what is going on in the outside world, you are safe and secure. You are welcome. And you belong.
You don't choose your home. You can't buy it or rent it.
Home is not where the heart is. Home is where your heart smiles in peace.
Where is your home?
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My wife and I call each other our "safe place" which is sort of a term for home-where we can be ourselves and know we won't be judged. She is my home and I'm hers.
Regarding 9-11, I remember exactly where I was Ame what was going on that Tuesday morning. I was getting up and ready to go to physics class my sophomore year in college. A lot of people were upset that class wasn't cancelled that day as it was difficult to focus and there were ppl on the verge of tears during class because they were so upset. It was a turning point in this country in which we entered a whole new era and the false sense of safety and security that was common up to that point all but vanished. And the government used it as an excuse to steal our freedoms and rights under the constitution through the patriot act and the vast expansion of the NSA and their powers.
Yessir, terribly accurate.
I find myself talking to my children about things that used to be simple and drama free- like airports and flying- with the phrase "prior to 9-11..." It's sad how that one day changed so much...
It is crazy how different airport and other major facility security changed after that dreadful day. I know some of it is needed but some seems like it's gone too far in taking awar our liberties and basic human rights.
No one watches over them. They have been given free reign and they have run with it. It is disgusting.
Yep, as the old saying goes absolute power corrupts absolutely. Damn smurfs lol. I hate getting felt up....I mean patted down and irradiated every other time I fly somewhere.
I know some of them are probably nice people but then I've also read plenty of horror stories of people with some medical condition or the elderly or whoever being harassed and humiliated by some TSA agent. Disgusting indeed.
Or children. Smh.
A friend and I went to the airport to see another friend off.
We were not even flying but he was wearing a pair of shorts with an attached belt-they took him back because it was on the hot list.
He came back out super quiet and weird. Later he said he felt molested.
This shouldn't happen. I mean, really. He did nothing wrong and came out of it in visible trauma.
nice post
Even in the UK, there was an eerie feeling. It was a JFK moment. I remember exactly where I was, and what I was doing.
It was if everyone knew, somehow, things had changed.
I don't have home . The price you pay for traveling for many years. There is always a price to pay
It was if everyone knew, somehow, things had changed.
Wow, even in the UK. That's interesting to hear.
definitely - the whole mood of the place
I love the last line here! I am a total homebody. Coming home is a zen feeling. Coming home to my two little ones has finally made my heart smile in peace. When my heart was crushed several years back, I didn't know if that would ever be a possibility again!
I remember September 11 very clearly. It was my senior year in college. I had an early morning class, and my roommates and I had already walked to class by the time the first plane hit. Our professor was strangely missing. People trickled in late, and as each person walked in, we had just a little bit more of the story brought to us. Turned out our professor was up in his office watching. It was a day of confusion and fear and definitely a disruption of the peace I felt at that time. Thank you for sharing your story!
It was a sad time for our United States. Many peculiar things have unraveled since that horrific day. Today was again 9-11 and one more time people returned to what is left of their homes after hurricane Irma. I watched as they fled then as they returned. Many seem like they have just lost touch with what it means to have a home. Thanks for the post. 🐓🐓
That is a sad realization.
Thanks for sharing... Love it.
I am glad you enjoyed. Thank you <3
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I find it interesting that most people I meet could tell me exactly what they were doing that day. It was sad day in the history of this nation.
Thanks for the post. I remember where I was on Sept. 11. I currently live in Panama and am from Texas. I have been here for 5 months and it already feels like home. But then Texas feels like home. Maybe wherever my family is is where home is.