On September 11th 2001, a Tuesday, I was set to fly to Washington, D.C. for the first gathering of the inductees to the Excellence in Government Fellows. We were to meet on Wednesday, September 12th at the Willard Hotel for the initial ceremonies and series of week long events for those of us from across the nation who were to participate. I originally had my flight on the Monday before, September 10, but decided to switch my flight. If I had departed that Monday, I would have been in the middle of it all.
I remember getting up early that day since the American Airlines flight was to depart from Albuquerque for Atlanta at 8 a.m. with a connecting flight to Ronald Reagan International in D.C. later that afternoon. It was still dark outside when my Red 1998 Dodge Ram Quad Cab pulled into the extended parking area. I travel light so I had two bags. Took the shuttle from extended parking and the sun still was not near its rising point. It was about 6 a.m. I got to the airport, and checked my bags at the ticket counter, got my boarding pass. Remember, these were the days when there were no airport check points. It was a crowded airport as it was near the beginning of the business week. The sounds of hustle and bustle, quick steps of high heels, and luggage on rollers clipping across the tile floors with a notable rhythm as the wheels bounced over the grouted areas.
Then there was the escalator noise as people hoisted luggage onto moving steps going up at a clip. Again, no check points. Just smiling faces of flight attendants who had just arrived from the red eye flights longing for a day-night's rest at one of the airport hotels. There was the smell of Cinnebons and burritos all mixed up as I traversed with one unchecked bag on my shoulder as I carried my cup of steaming coffee. I had enough time to have a breakfast burrito, so I bought one, ate it and then headed for the Gate A1 where the departures from American and airlines other than Southwest had their departures. Got to the gate about 7:05am and there was a desk attendant punching in numbers and the line for check in was only about 10 long. But it wasn't moving. After about 15 minutes, the desk attendant finally got off the telephone (internal line) and then made an announcement that the flight had been delayed for 20 minutes due to air traffic issues. I stayed in line. After 20 minutes, people started to get concerned about connecting flights and you could hear the frustrated whispers. Finally, the desk attendant look up and said that the flight had been delayed again and that they would call us over the intercom when they were ready to board. I say: "Ok, I'll just go to the bar area and get a coffee refill and watch a little Good Morning America. As I walked slowly up to the bar, the TV was showing a long range shot of a fire. In the foreground was the Old Executive Office Building (Next to the White House), and in the background plumes of smoke. At first I thought: "Wow it looks like the Old Executive Office Building was on fire. I became concerned since the Willard Hotel was just around the corner from there. After a few seconds of reporters speculating the cause of the fire was it made clear that the smoke in the background was from the Pentagon and that even still there was no clear description of the explosion that took place there. That still caused me concern since I knew Ronald Reagan International is so close to the Pentagon and in fact the glide path to Reagan runways takes you by the Pentagon. I thought wow, this is the reason for the delay. I then ran back to the gate only to see the desk attendant on the phone and then the electronic monitor stated that the flight was delayed indeterminably. I though "hmmm" usually they would just cancel the flight. What was this indeterminable? In fact there was a plane that had already left the gate on the tarmac. It was set to depart at 7:45 am but ground traffic control would not let them back onto the gate because another plane had just arrived from LA and was using that gate. Then the pilots were given the orders not to move. Those poor people stuffed in the plane had to sit on the tarmac all day. And they were not told a thing. Can you imagine the frustration? At least in the terminal we more or less knew something of catastrophic proportions was taking place.
I walked quickly back to the bar and that is when I saw the first tower go down in a puff of dust. Everyone looked at each other asking, is this real? At that point I knew airport security would eventually get orders to close all doorway access points in and out. So I quickly walked away down the main concourse knowing I only had minutes before they would close me in. I made it out. Got over to the shuttle and after a brief ride to my truck I then grabbed my car phone (huge monster of a phone) and called Esther, my wife to let her know I did not depart and that I had made it out of the airport before it would be closed. Ten minutes after I departed, there was a total shut down of the Albuquerque International Airport Terminal.
I was a little concerned because my son who was a student at St. Pius X at the time knew I would be flying out early to Washington. In his mind if he at all knew what was happening, I was in the air on my way to where all this chaos was taking place. But as I drove home with my heart beating faster than usual, I passed St. Joseph's on the Rio Grande, my parish, and the parking lot was absolutely full. I drove into the lot and went into the church only to see it almost filled to its 1000 person capacity. The 9 a.m. daily Mass had already been celebrated but people stayed and kept arriving. There was so much silent prayer. People on their knees. There was a fear driven sense of gravity based upon what had happened to the people in New York and Washington. I saw that fervor remain for about a month, and then, it seemed as things normalized, the church would again be not full, not even a quarter full. Amazing how fickle we are as creatures.
My son called the house shortly after I got home. He was breathing heavily and blurted out, "Dad, you're home. I know what happened when I first heard I knew you had gone to Washington and only pictured the worst." He was shaken enough to ask the Principal for the day off. He wanted to come home and embrace his dad in tears, the dad he had imagined he might see no more. That dad also cried like a baby, out of that indefinable purity of fatherly-sonly love. All I can tell you is that in spite of what had transpired all over America because of the violence on the east coast, there was a coming together of hearts in solidarity, not in anger, but in love for one another. I felt that warm embrace and love from my son, Joe Baca, my kiddo, my gift from God. Would that the solidarity among individuals could have lasted. Would that the fervor of individuals and families for God's protection would have lasted. Whatever it was that arose out of chaos and which gelled us as a people is now all but disappeared.
I remember getting up early that day since the American Airlines flight was to depart from Albuquerque for Atlanta at 8 a.m. with a connecting flight to Ronald Reagan International in D.C. later that afternoon. It was still dark outside when my Red 1998 Dodge Ram Quad Cab pulled into the extended parking area. I travel light so I had two bags. Took the shuttle from extended parking and the sun still was not near its rising point. It was about 6 a.m. I got to the airport, and checked my bags at the ticket counter, got my boarding pass. Remember, these were the days when there were no airport check points. It was a crowded airport as it was near the beginning of the business week. The sounds of hustle and bustle, quick steps of high heels, and luggage on rollers clipping across the tile floors with a notable rhythm as the wheels bounced over the grouted areas.
Then there was the escalator noise as people hoisted luggage onto moving steps going up at a clip. Again, no check points. Just smiling faces of flight attendants who had just arrived from the red eye flights longing for a day-night's rest at one of the airport hotels. There was the smell of Cinnebons and burritos all mixed up as I traversed with one unchecked bag on my shoulder as I carried my cup of steaming coffee. I had enough time to have a breakfast burrito, so I bought one, ate it and then headed for the Gate A1 where the departures from American and airlines other than Southwest had their departures. Got to the gate about 7:05am and there was a desk attendant punching in numbers and the line for check in was only about 10 long. But it wasn't moving. After about 15 minutes, the desk attendant finally got off the telephone (internal line) and then made an announcement that the flight had been delayed for 20 minutes due to air traffic issues. I stayed in line. After 20 minutes, people started to get concerned about connecting flights and you could hear the frustrated whispers. Finally, the desk attendant look up and said that the flight had been delayed again and that they would call us over the intercom when they were ready to board. I say: "Ok, I'll just go to the bar area and get a coffee refill and watch a little Good Morning America. As I walked slowly up to the bar, the TV was showing a long range shot of a fire. In the foreground was the Old Executive Office Building (Next to the White House), and in the background plumes of smoke. At first I thought: "Wow it looks like the Old Executive Office Building was on fire. I became concerned since the Willard Hotel was just around the corner from there. After a few seconds of reporters speculating the cause of the fire was it made clear that the smoke in the background was from the Pentagon and that even still there was no clear description of the explosion that took place there. That still caused me concern since I knew Ronald Reagan International is so close to the Pentagon and in fact the glide path to Reagan runways takes you by the Pentagon. I thought wow, this is the reason for the delay. I then ran back to the gate only to see the desk attendant on the phone and then the electronic monitor stated that the flight was delayed indeterminably. I though "hmmm" usually they would just cancel the flight. What was this indeterminable? In fact there was a plane that had already left the gate on the tarmac. It was set to depart at 7:45 am but ground traffic control would not let them back onto the gate because another plane had just arrived from LA and was using that gate. Then the pilots were given the orders not to move. Those poor people stuffed in the plane had to sit on the tarmac all day. And they were not told a thing. Can you imagine the frustration? At least in the terminal we more or less knew something of catastrophic proportions was taking place.
I walked quickly back to the bar and that is when I saw the first tower go down in a puff of dust. Everyone looked at each other asking, is this real? At that point I knew airport security would eventually get orders to close all doorway access points in and out. So I quickly walked away down the main concourse knowing I only had minutes before they would close me in. I made it out. Got over to the shuttle and after a brief ride to my truck I then grabbed my car phone (huge monster of a phone) and called Esther, my wife to let her know I did not depart and that I had made it out of the airport before it would be closed. Ten minutes after I departed, there was a total shut down of the Albuquerque International Airport Terminal.
I was a little concerned because my son who was a student at St. Pius X at the time knew I would be flying out early to Washington. In his mind if he at all knew what was happening, I was in the air on my way to where all this chaos was taking place. But as I drove home with my heart beating faster than usual, I passed St. Joseph's on the Rio Grande, my parish, and the parking lot was absolutely full. I drove into the lot and went into the church only to see it almost filled to its 1000 person capacity. The 9 a.m. daily Mass had already been celebrated but people stayed and kept arriving. There was so much silent prayer. People on their knees. There was a fear driven sense of gravity based upon what had happened to the people in New York and Washington. I saw that fervor remain for about a month, and then, it seemed as things normalized, the church would again be not full, not even a quarter full. Amazing how fickle we are as creatures.
My son called the house shortly after I got home. He was breathing heavily and blurted out, "Dad, you're home. I know what happened when I first heard I knew you had gone to Washington and only pictured the worst." He was shaken enough to ask the Principal for the day off. He wanted to come home and embrace his dad in tears, the dad he had imagined he might see no more. That dad also cried like a baby, out of that indefinable purity of fatherly-sonly love. All I can tell you is that in spite of what had transpired all over America because of the violence on the east coast, there was a coming together of hearts in solidarity, not in anger, but in love for one another. I felt that warm embrace and love from my son, Joe Baca, my kiddo, my gift from God. Would that the solidarity among individuals could have lasted. Would that the fervor of individuals and families for God's protection would have lasted. Whatever it was that arose out of chaos and which gelled us as a people is now all but disappeared.
We need to pray. We need to be on our knees before these things happen so that perhaps....they don't happen. Blessed be Jesus.
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