'That infamous day': Delaware State News readers reflect on where they were Sept. 11, 2001

Readers shared the following recollections with the Delaware State News on where they were and how they learned about the attacks on America Sept. 11, 2001.

Leaving D.C. that day

I worked in Washington, D.C., as a federal employee, on the ninth floor of a federal building near the Capitol. One of my coworkers hollered to us to look out the window. We all were aghast as to what we saw — sharp shooters on the rooftops across the street from our building and, in the distance, we saw lots of thick smoke.

Three federal judges in their robes were briskly walking through our area looking out the windows. They spoke to our office manager, who then gathered all of us together. She told us the smoke in the distance was an airplane that hit the Pentagon.

Our office manager told us to turn off our computers and, if your car was parked in the garage, to leave now, but those that took the subway had a dilemma as to how they were to get home or stay at work. Most of my coworkers lived in Maryland. I lived in Virginia. Two workers from another department came by and asked if anyone lived in Virginia, and wanted a ride. There was room for two. I said, “I do.” They told me the driver was in the garage waiting in line to exit. I followed them to the underground garage, and got into their car. I was scared but hopeful I would be safe.

It seemed like hours we were stuck in the garage, along with lots of other cars. Once we were able to exit the garage, we saw many people running scared everywhere. Some people blocked our exit but our driver was outstanding! She maneuvered us through the many people and cars on the sidewalk and in the street. It was total chaos and mind-boggling.

For years, everyone in our office was required to have an emergency bag.

The driver was able to get us to Virginia safely. The driver dropped the other coworker off first. Then she drove me to my front door. I thanked her and those that were still in her car, and we all cried.

Isobel Montgomery
Magnolia

Learning of events in Dover

On mid-morning of Sept. 11, 2001, I drove a nervous friend to pick up medicine inside the Dover Air Force Base, after her outpatient surgery in downtown Dover.
We were the last vehicle to enter the main gate and, thereafter, I saw all vehicles were stopped. Drivers and passengers had to get out and all vehicle trunks had to be opened.

My husband at home was recuperating from cancer surgery caused by Agent Orange and watched the 9/11 chaos on TV.

We left the base not knowing what was happening then, other than the back-up of traffic. Upon arrival at my friend’s house, I called my husband and he said an airplane crashed into the twin tower, followed by a second crash on the other tower.

Before he put down the phone, he told me that he thought it was a terrorist act but not so sure.

I rushed home and the two of us watched the New York chaos continue. I tried to call family members in NY but could not connect.

Later, I learned that some were stranded in the ferry from Staten Island, nervously praying for other family members on the way to school or to work.

I also called a Dover friend who was crying, struggling to check on her New York-based daughter’s whereabouts.

My military-federal retiree husband asked, “Are we too arrogant that other people hate us that much?”

Though it surprised me to hear my usually quiet husband’s rhetorical question, I could only wish that he understood it when I said, “Their ideologies have no room here in this peaceful America. Others want to be like America but their ideologies and destructive acts are what they do instead.”

The Sunday before Sept. 11, 2021, I contacted my friend whose family now lives in Florida and reminded her that we were together 20 years ago. She cried to me that her brother died and will be buried at Arlington National Cemetery on Sept. 27, 2021. Another sad reality of life.

Amie L. Knighting
Dover

Teaching moment

It was the second day of school for students, as we had opened the new Central Elementary just the day before. I remember that my desktop computer was new and I was not used to turning it on first thing in the morning.

After my first class that day, as my students filed out of the classroom, the teacher from across the hall came in and told me that the towers had been hit. One student, Sara, was still in my room and heard what we were discussing. She said simply, “This will be the defining moment of my generation.” I obviously still remember those words, and think how correct she was. I retold that story every year to my students.

We were dismissed early that day and I spent the time trying to contact my parents, who were on vacation out West. Luckily they had a rental car and were able to drive it home — across country — as their return flight was canceled.

Over the next few days, I remember how quiet it was. Living so close to DAFB, we take for granted the flights that come and go on a daily basis. Those days after the attack were silent, except for the helicopters bringing the deceased to the air base.

Karen Williams

Watching and waiting

That infamous day affected me on two levels. As a former LaGuardia radar air traffic controller, I was familiar with the World Trade Center and how its airspace was protected; and as a member of the Delaware Army National Guard, I wondered if there would be a call-up.

I was enroute to a business meeting in Rehoboth when a friend called about an aircraft hitting the WTC. I assured him it must have been a small aircraft that had lost its way. I pulled into a Wawa, knowing they had a TV. About a dozen people were crowded around the small set about the time the second tower was struck amid reports of the Pentagon attack.

As a member of the Army Guard at that time, I called Wilmington headquarters, wondering if we might be at war. Although no one was called up, I later learned about a Guard member who lived within sight of the attack and, because streets were blocked and bridges closed, he rode his bicycle to a nearby Army Reserve center and voluntarily served as a communications equipment expert for several weeks with NY and federal officials. (I later wrote an article about him for the Guard newsletter.)

Dave Skocik
Dover

Listening from overseas

My wife, Allison, and I were at Versailles that day. We were visiting our daughter’s good friend, April, and her French husband, Emmanuel, for several days while we were in Paris and they drove us on the 11th to Versailles.

When we got in their van to return to their home, Emmanuel turned the radio on and immediately we started hearing about events in New York and Washington, D.C. Of course, it was all in French. The station that he tuned in is one, he said, that always has a lot of humor and jokes — and he thought this is very strange “stuff” to be joking about — so he changed the station. Every station had the same stories. He and April were translating for us.

When we got back to their home, there was a message on their telephone from our daughter saying that she was OK (she lived in northern Virginia then and still does) and that her sister who lived in NY state then was also OK.

For the next few hours, we watched TV, and although it was all in French, we were able to follow most of the horrible news.

The next day, we took the local train into Paris and bought newspapers in English and just sat and read them. We also went to a library and were able to use the internet to email our daughters. Paris seemed to have uniformed soldiers all over the place, every street, on the subway, etc.

To back up a bit: I had recently retired after almost 34 years with the State of Delaware and Allison was on a sabbatical from her Latin position at Caesar Rodney High School, so we had planned to go to Europe for three months. We left here the middle of August and returned in mid-November.

When we left Paris to go to London on the Eurostar some of our bags were searched, but not all of them. We continuted on, but for the first couple of weeks following 9/11 we were met with many, many condolences from so many people — all very earnest and kind.

Michael Richards
Camden