Experiencing 9/11 Overseas

Dancing under the American flag at a bar in Nice just two days before 9/11.

 

“America’s under attack”

 
Unbeknownst to me at the time, that was the message that Andy, my Contiki tour bus driver, received shortly after the first plane hit the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001.

We were on our way from Florence to Rome, just a week into a three and a half week whirlwind tour of Europe.  This was my post-bar exam trip, my gift to myself before starting my big law firm job in October. It was my first time overseas.

I was hung over from the previous night – a late night at a club that involved karaoke, dancing, vodka shots and then passing out back in the hotel room fully clothed. Before leaving Florence, I searched far and wide for a McDonald’s that was serving breakfast but only managed to find some greasy pizza. When the bus pulled over just an hour outside of Florence at one of Italy’s expansive rest stops, I was thinking only of getting a Diet Coke and some food.

But when we went inside, Andy headed straight for a television set perched high up in a corner.  He started flipping the channels and then stopped as the screen showed the World Trade Center in a cloud of smoke and a second plane hitting the tower. Shelby from Georgia was standing to my left and Nick and Brad from New Jersey were standing to my right.  We all froze.

I don’t know how long we stood there.

Back on the bus, we struggled to understand what we just saw, images of the Twin Towers crumbling without any explanation from the soundless television set at the rest stop. Arriving in Rome a short while later, the Americans in the group (there were 10 of us out of 40) rushed to our hotel rooms to turn on the TVs and to place calls home.

No one was able to get through.

Television didn’t provide much more information as the stations were all in Italian with just one news station that had English subtitles.

And not long after we arrived in Rome, it was time to head out on a walking tour of the city with the entire group. We all went because what else would we do? Information was scarce and the full scope of what happened had not sunk in yet.  We were in Rome for just 2 nights so we should make the most of it, right?

One of just 2 pictures I took during a walking tour of Rome on September 11.

Not surprisingly, I don’t recall much from that walking tour. All of my thoughts centered on getting back to the hotel and speaking with my family to figure out what was going on.

When I eventually got my mom on the phone, the tears started flowing as I stammered,

“Mom, what’s going on?”

Then I talked to my dad and to my best friend’s roommate, Shefali.  Everyone provided slightly different information and, as I compared notes with others in the group who also reached their families, it was clear that there were a lot of mixed messages and unconfirmed stories floating around.

The response we  received in Rome was tremendous.  The mayor of the city sent a letter to all American guests staying in Roman hotels offering condolences and establishing a hotline by which we could make calls to the United States.  As we stopped into shops and cafes, the faces behind the counters expressed their compassion when they realized our nationality.

A few days later, we stumbled onto some sort of military service near the Hofburg Palace in Vienna that, while it was entirely in German, seemed to mention the World Trade Center attacks several times. We didn’t know what they were saying, but we were moved nonetheless.  And then we were stunned when we visited the concentration camp at Dachau to see fresh graffiti with seemingly ant-Israeli and anti-American messages. We couldn’t help but wonder if it was in some way related to the attacks.

A military service in Vienna.
Graffiti at Dachau.

But really, the rest of the trip was a blur. 

We stopped in amazing cities like Venice, Munich and Amsterdam but all I could think about each morning was finding a newspaper stand or internet café to read the latest updates about the aftermath of the attack on the World Trade Center. While most people at home were likely oversaturated with information, we struggled to find it.

I struggled to enjoy those last two weeks.  The sites we were visiting seemed unimportant in the overall scheme of things.  This trip was supposed to be the journey of a lifetime for me and I was more concerned about going home again.

When I finally boarded an airplane at London’s Heathrow airport on September 26, I had an entire row to myself. Hardly anyone was flying again then.  Hours later, I landed at O’Hare and saw the American flag flying over the terminal building and tears slowly rolled down my cheek.  As I emerged from the Red Line station at Chicago and State and walked the two short blocks to my apartment building, I noticed American flags posted in every store window.

I felt like I was arriving in Chicago for the first time, arriving in a country that was much different from the one I left just a month earlier.

Entering my apartment, I found my dining room table piled high with newspapers – three and a half weeks’ worth of Chicago Tribunes.  Before I even unpacked, I sat down on my living room floor and started paging through them, one by one, in order starting with September 12.

As I read, I started to cry.

And I cried.

And I cried some more.

I cried until my eyes were puffy, my face was blotchy and my nose was running like a faucet.

I cried because the enormity of what happened on September 11 didn’t hit me while I was in Europe. I wasn’t able to grieve and mourn when I was so far away. It wasn’t until I was back in Chicago, back in this country that suddenly felt so strangely different to me, that I was able to fully take it all in.

It somehow seems fitting that I am overseas once again on the tenth anniversary of 9/11.  As was the case ten years ago, I won’t be oversaturated with information. I won’t be inundated with memorials and remembrances and analysis. I won’t be watching television specials and reading newspaper features. Instead, I’ll be running a marathon in Tallinn, Estonia.

But that doesn’t mean I won’t be thinking about that day and about everyone back home.

And it doesn’t mean I won’t shed a few more tears.

 

Where were you on 9/11? How do you remember it?

 

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13 thoughts on “Experiencing 9/11 Overseas”

  1. I was in DC on 9/11. I was in class when the first plane hit, and when I went to my second class of the day, we watched the towers fall. I rushed back to my dorm to be with my friends, to try to get in touch with my parents. (Thank god for AIM, since phone lines were overrun.)

    My friends and I watched the smoke rise from the Pentagon from on top of a parking garage on campus. A few days later, we went to the Iwo Jima memorial and watched fighter jets fly over the city, watched military jeeps flood the streets.

    When I was at work on September 13, my campus was evacuated due to bomb threats. I was at work. (My office, near the Capitol, had been evacuated on September 11. I was on campus.)

    I’m spending my seventh September in NYC this year. I have friends here who worked near the World Trade Center, who had to leave and walk across bridges to get home. It’s hard to be here, and it’s hard to remember.

  2. Thanks for posting this. I never really thought about Americans that weren’t over here that day. This is a really interesting perspective. Thank you for sharing.

    1. Thanks Erin. I just read your post. I can’t even imagine how hard that would’ve been to have actually been in NYC that day.

  3. I was still asleep because I live on the West coast. My dad who wakes up super early for work called us and woke us up, telling us to turn on our TVs and we watched the news whilst getting ready for school. At school, everyone was talking about it and exchanging the news, before we went to our classes and teachers shared what they were allowed, asked us what questions we had and tried to create an understanding as much as possible.

    1. Thanks Allison. I’m surprised you still had school that day – I guess I thought most places in the country closed down and sent everyone home.

  4. Wow thanks for sharing this story… It’s ironic that you are overseas again.

    As for me I was 15years old didn’t even know what the WTC was (I know crazy, but I really didn’t) and I was in Accounting class my sophomore year of high school. I remember everything stopping and watching the TV for a while. A few hours later we were all stunned and the HS lobby was filled with parent picking up their children. Then school was dismissed by midday. I remember going home and spending the remainder of the day glued to the TV with my family in the living room. It’s a day I will remember every single detail about for the rest of my life. My heart & prayers still go out to all the families who lost a loved one.

    1. Thanks for sharing Jaime. Yeah, I find it a little ironic (coincidental?) that 10 years ago on was on my first ever trip overseas and now I’m just starting my first long-term travel. It’s crazy to think how much my life has changed in that time.

  5. September 11, 2001 was the first day of On Campus Interviewing at the U of MN. I was at my desk, managing papers and schedules, when Nora Klaphake came into my office and said “You have to see this.” We went upstairs to Auerbach Lounge where tvs had been dragged in. Students were sitting on the floor in a combination of stunned silence and rivers of tears. We quickly decided to stop the interviews, and the school closed at noon. We worried about our students on the road for interviews, our alums in New York, and everyone’s friends and relatives who might have been in harm’s way. Unbeknownst to us, we were safe, because Governor Jessie Ventura had proclaimed himself a major terrorist target and had somehow shut down everything in Minnesota. Or perhaps it just seemed so.

  6. I was in a pub in Britain taking a break during college and saw the news on the tv. I’ll never forget standing there stock still, not really able to comprehend what I was seeing and feeling scared and anxious about what this would mean for America but also the whole world.
    I can’t even begin to imagine what it was like for the people who lost loved ones in 9/11, but the world will never forget the sacrifices that were made that day.

  7. I had a similar experience because I was in Ireland at the time (posted on my blog). The outpouring of support from people around the world was really touching.

    I remember wanting to travel more during my trip, but everyone kept saying to avoid travel in case Americans were targeted overseas. But when I did travel, I felt nothing but support and sympathy.

  8. Hey Katie,
    Although I’m not American, so I wasn’t affected by it that much. I do still remember exactly where I was. I just got home from school with the television on. My brother told me what happened, I didn’t even believe him until I kept watching for a few minutes.

  9. Wow, that must have been incredibly difficult, not being able to get the information about what was going on back here. I know all of us here in the States were complete media junkies after the attacks. I couldn’t stop watching the news and reading everything I could find. I can only imagine what it must have been like when your only news sources are in another language. And believe me, you did come home to a different country than the one you left. No doubt about that.

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