By Bob Gaydos

What TV showed on Sept. 11, 2001.

     Twenty-two years ago today, like millions of other Americans, I was preparing to go to work. The boys were off to school. It was a sky-blue September day. The news was on the TV, a practice of mine, in case there was something I needed to know about before I got to the paper.

   There was.

   The image on the TV screen froze me and shook the sleep out of my head. Oh, my God!

     What was I seeing? They replayed it.

     I quickly got myself together and headed off to work. But I stopped for a few moments in a nearby park to gather my thoughts and process what I had just witnessed. The radio news informed me that, in addition to the two planes flying into the Twin Towers in New York City, a plane had crashed in a field in Pennsylvania and another had hit the Pentagon in Washington, D.C.

     September 11.

     After about an hour of processing reports on what had happened, a meeting was held and it was decided that The Times Herald-Record would publish a special edition that afternoon, the first one, I believe, in the morning newspaper’s history.  My job was to write an editorial explaining what had happened. Or at least trying to explain it. About 500 words. “We need it in an hour.”

     I don’t have a copy of that editorial and I’m sure it was mostly emotion. I do remember writing, “America was at war.” 

       The world changed that day. America changed. We the people had been attacked. We were one nation, under the spell of the dynamic leadership of New York’s mayor, Rudy Giuliani. America’s mayor. We grieved together, healed together and called for retribution together, against whoever it was who had attacked us.

          So we started a war against, not the country where the terrorists responsible for the attacks came from (Saudi Arabia): but against a country (Iraq) that had nothing to do with the 9/11 attacks. We justified it by claiming Iraq had “weapons of mass destruction” that it could use against someone, maybe us. That was a lie our government told us. We found out later.

           Then we went after the actual attackers in the mountains of Afghanistan. We actually found and killed their leader, then decided to stay in Afghanistan for some 20 years, trying to save it from itself.

            In those ensuing years, Giuliani went from “America’s Mayor” to embarrassingly ridiculous mouthpiece for every lie put forth by Donald Trump, including the lie that he lost his re-election bid to President Joe Biden because the election was rife with vote fraud.

             Also in the ensuing 22 years, the Republican Party has steadily turned itself from a party that espoused defense of all Americans into a party of an aggrieved white minority whose leaders in Congress legislate only in the interests of wealthy donors who contribute to their campaigns. Into a cult that believes and repeats Trump’s lies or, worse, repeats them for political gain or out of fear.

           Whatever galvanized us into one people 22 years ago (a common enemy I suppose) started disintegrating as soon as we started demonizing any group of people, different from us (Muslims) as the enemy. “Us” became more vague.

            The World Trade Center was rebuilt, Trump exposed the fear and bigotry at the center of the Republican Party and gave free rein to the fissures hiding within American society.

             The FBI now says the greatest threat to America is from domestic terrorism. Not Iraq. Or Afghanistan. The threat comes from the white supremacists groups who organized the assault in Washington and still threaten any who reject their cause.

       In 1870, cartoonist Walt Kelly coined a phrase in his Pogo comic strip: “We have met the enemy and he is us.”

       Indeed.

       Not so long ago, on Jan. 6, 2021, I once again stared transfixed at a scene on television. Am I really seeing this? Thousands of virtually all white Trump supporters storming the U.S. Capitol to prevent the certification of Joe Biden as president. Some were ready to hang Vice President Mike Pence to prevent him from fulfiling his duties. People died. Republicans refused to accept the election result and many even claimed there was no riot that sent them running for their lives.

          Today, the war to preserve American freedom and democracy is being fought right here at home. Fortunately, millions of Americans stand on the side of what’s right. Many still remember how we felt as a unified nation in the wake of the attacks 22 years ago. Trump and others who supported him in his attempted coup are being called to account in the courts. Many have already been sent to prison for the attack on the Capitol. Many more must follow.

           I’m not sure I”ll be here to mark the 20th anniversary of the Jan. 6, 2021 insurrection, but whether I am or not, I pray the U.S. Capitol is still proudly standing.

rjgaydos@gmail.com

Bob Gaydos is writer-in-residence at zest-of-orange.com. He was editorial page editor of The Times Herald-Record in Middletown, N.Y., for 23 years.

By Bob Gaydos

What TV showed on Sept. 11, 2001.

     Twenty years ago today, like millions of other Americans, I was preparing to go to work. The boys were off to school. It was a sky-blue September day. The news was on the TV, a practice of mine, in case there was something I needed to know about before I got to the paper.

   There was.

   The image on the TV screen froze me and shook the sleep out of my head. Oh, my God!

     What was I seeing? They replayed it.

     I quickly got myself together and headed off to work. But I stopped for a few moments in a nearby park to gather my thoughts and process what I had just witnessed  qThe radio news informed me that, in addition to the two planes flying into the Twin Towers in New York City, a plane had crashed in a field in Pennsylvania and another had hit the Pentagon in Washington, D.C.

     September 11.

     After about an hour of processing reports on what had happened, a meeting was held and it was decided that The Times Herald-Record would publish a special edition that afternoo, the first one, I believe, in the morning newspaper’s history.  My job was to write an editorial explaining what had happened. Or at least trying to explain it. About 500 words.“We need it in an hour.”

     I don’t have a copy of that editorial and I’m sure it was mostly emotion. I do remember writing, “America was at war.”  (Any colleagues who were in the newsroom on that day may feel free to corroborate or add any details you may remember in the comments section.)

       The world changed that day. America changed. We the people had been attacked. We were one nation, under the spell of the dynamic leadership of New York’s mayor, Rudy Giuliani. America’s mayor. We grieved together, healed together and called for retribution together, against whoever it was who had attacked us.

          So we started a war against, not the country where the terrorists responsible for the attacks came from (Saudi Arabia): but against a country (Iraq) that had nothing to do with the 9/11 attacks. We justified it by claiming Iraq had “weapons of mass destruction” that it could use against someone, maybe us. That was a lie our government told us. We found out later.

           Then we went after the actual attackers in the mountains of Afghanistan. We actually found and killed their leader, then decided to stay in Afghanistan for some 20 years, trying to save it from itself.

            In those ensuing 20 years, Giuliani went from “America’s Mayor” to embarrassingly ridiculous mouthpiece for every lie put forth by Donald Trump, including the lie that he lost his re-election bid to President Joe Biden because the election was rife with vote fraud.

             Also in the ensuing 20 years, the Republican Party steadily turned itself from a party that espoused defense of all Americans into a party of an aggrieved white minority whose leaders in Congress legislate only in the interests of wealthy donors who contribute to their campaigns..Inro a cult that believes and repeats Trump’s lies or, worse, repeats them for political gain or out of fear.

           Whatever galvanized us into one people 20 years ago (a common enemy I suppose) started disintegrating as soon as we started demonizing any group of people, different from us (Muslims) as the enemy. “Us” became more vague.”

            The World Trade Center was rebuilt, Trump exposed the fear and bigotry at the center of the Republivan Party and gave free rein to the fissures hiding within American society.

             The FBI now says the greatest threat to America is from domestic terrorism. Not Iraq. Or Afghanistan. The threat comes from the white supremacists groups who organized the assault in Washington and still threaten any who reject their cause.

       In 1870, cartoonist Walt Kelly coined a phrase in his Pogo comic strip: “We have mer the enemy and he is us.”

       Indeed.

       Not so long ago, on January 6 of this year, in fact, I once again stared transfixed at a scene on television. Am I really seeing this? Thousands of virtually all white Trump supporters storming the U.S. Capitol to prevent the certification of Joe Biden as president. Some were ready to hang Vice President Mike Pence to prevent him from fulfiling his duties. People died. Republicans refused to accept the election result and many even claimed there was no riot that sent them running for their lives.

          Today, the war to preserve American freedom and democracy is being fought right here at home. Fortunately, millions of Americans stand on the side of what”s right. Many still remember how we felt as a unified nation in the wake of the attacks 20 years ago.

           I’m not sure I”ll be here 20 years from now io mark the anniversary of the Jan. 6, 2021 insurrection, but whether I am or not, I pray the U.S. Capitol is still proudly standing.

rjgaydos@gmail.com

Bob Gaydos is writer-in-residence at zest-of-orange.com. He was editorial page editor of The Times Herald-Record in Middletown, N.Y., for 23 years.

Thanks to readers who responded to Zest of Orange’s invitation to submit recollections of Sept. 11, 2001.

Lee Gittler Steup and her future husband had checked into a rented beach house on the Jersey Shore. They suffered no personal casualties in the attack the next day, but almost lost the friend who was to be best man at their wedding. Here’s her story.

In a particularly surreal moment, we watched as a reporter stood in front of a tower, recounting the event. Suddenly another jet liner appeared over his shoulder, low in the background. I expected to see it pass behind the tower, but it never came out the other side.

“Another plane hit the other tower!” I screamed at the television receiver. And the reporter, unaware of what had just happened, went on with his newscast. Later came a report that a plane had hit the Pentagon.

I’m sure all the blood drained from my face. I lunged for the telephone and called both my grown children to tell them. Tell them what? That we weren’t in the Trade Center or the Pentagon? They already knew that. That they should head for shelter? They were already in an area unlikely to be targeted for attack. My mind groped for some words. I hadn’t expected to get through to them, but I called so quickly that the phone lines hadn’t yet jammed. I blurted out something comforting, listened to their voices and then, somewhat comforted, went back to the TV.

In lower Manhattan, Michael’s lifelong friend Jeffrey had gone into a cafe on the ground floor of one of the towers for some coffee. He pondered using the Trade Center restroom, but decided to wait and instead boarded the ferry to his job on Ellis Island. From the boat, he watched the second plane hit the second tower.

The ferry was ordered back to the dock and the passengers started looking for other transportation. Then the towers began to fall and the dust clouds rolled down the streets and avenues like giant bowling balls. Jeffrey ducked into an office a few blocks away and avoided the worst of the contamination. He was one of the people who walked miles to finally find a way home late that night.

Much later, after the towers had tumbled into ruin and thousands of people had vanished in the deadly dust, we went out. Long Beach Island was silent. People with ashen faces walked the streets like the living dead. Up in the sky, a fighter jet circled like a hawk.

We were in a war zone.

We have never returned to Long Beach Island. It had been Michael’s family’s tradition every summer, but in 2001 that tradition ended. We tell people that we can no longer afford to vacation there, but it’s not the real reason. We don’t go back because we have seen how easy it is for tragedy to penetrate even the most enjoyable of places. We have watched the world change, not for the better. And we have learned how powerless we really are to control events in the world and in our lives.

Jean Webster spent many years living in Grahamsville before she and her husband, a native Mainer, moved to Portland, where she continues to write. She received first word of the 9/11 attacks in a phone call from California.

Where was I on 9/11?

I will relive that day, and the days that followed, forever. A New Yorker from birth, I was living in a lovely seaside community on the coast of Maine. Shortly after the first pictures came on television, my cousin from California called and was surprised I hadn’t heard.

I turned on the TV and sat for the rest of the day crying, watching, talking to New York friends and relatives, and of course to my children, who both live far away. That’s the first thing we all think of when tragedy strikes – I have to talk with my children.
My son in Dallas called and we talked, but finally he told me he had to turn off the television and pay attention to his 2-year old daughter who was getting freaked out by what she was seeing. I got through to my sister on Manhattan’s east side later in the day, and she was all right but understandably stricken.

I missed my husband’s presence all day long. He was running errands for our store, and we didn’t get to talk until he got home later in the day.

One of the most shocking revelations was that two of the terrorists, including the ringleader, Mohamed Atta, had gone through the Portland Jetport that morning. We live in Portland in the winter, and when we returned to that house, all I could think was that those two men had gone through our little city to try to destroy America.

The American flag appeared everywhere in Portland; on houses, stores, restaurants, cars, trucks.

I remember having to get away from the television days later, when I could no longer stand seeing those planes hitting the Twin Towers, or watching the smoke, the destruction.

I remember sitting on the front stoop of our house in a city whose skies were eerily quiet, trying to absorb what had happened, and what it would mean to us as Americans.

We knew about people who were lost in the destruction – relatives of friends. The closest was our brother-in-law’s brother from New Jersey, who was helping a co-worker down as the stairs beneath them crumbled.

I will never forget.

Send responses to jeffrey@zestoforange.com

By Gretchen Gibbs
To me the question is not why we connect in times of trouble, but why we stop. Why can’t we hold on to the glow?

After Hurricane Irene swept through our area, I began to receive calls and emails from friends and family, asking how I had fared. Personally I was fine, though the tenant in my rental house in downtown Warwick had to be rescued by boat and the amount of damage to her possessions and to the house was severe.

I was touched by people’s concern, and it led me to think about disasters and how we respond to them.

I’ve done some research on disasters, their emotional impact, and how to mitigate it. Trauma often takes a great psychological cost, depending on factors like how much terror and horror was experienced, how great the losses were, and vulnerability to the experience because of past trauma. Even factors like gender, age, and social class may affect the consequences of disaster.

Support from others can play a major part in recovery. And usually others do provide support. I remember after the 2004 tsunami in Indonesia, some reporter called me for a quote, wanting to know why people had donated so much money to the relief efforts. “Why does it need explaining,” I said, “given that this is the most deadly tsunami in history?” It seems a natural response to want to help others in need.

It is now the tenth year anniversary of September 11th. That first week or so afterwards, wasn’t that our finest hour? People from all over the country converged on New York to help, exposing themselves to toxic dust and toxic sights and experiences. Commerce seemed forgotten in the sense of togetherness. Many businesses closed down temporarily. Restaurants and businesses provided free food and services for the workers at Ground Zero. The sky was still and blue without the planes and their vapor trails. I had such hopes for our country. I thought we could build on the connections, see things from outsiders’ points of view, broaden our perspective.

And then in no time at all, we had war and freedom fries. The sense of community gave way to vengeance and isolationism. I don’t know what happened, but I suspect it was fear. Terrorism is well-named; it is hugely frightening, and to protect ourselves we put up barriers and defenses against other people and ideas. Disasters bring out our best, and they can also bring out our worst. Something to reflect on as we mark the anniversary of the events of 9/11.

gretchen@zestoforange.com