On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was in a meeting about one block from the White House in Washington, D.C. About ten of us were meeting in a conference room that morning to discuss a policy matter before the U.S. Congress.
We were on the 10th floor of a downtown building. I was in mid-sentence when the secretary walked into the conference room and said, “A plane just hit the World Trade Tower in New York.” She rolled a television into the room just in time for us to see a second plane hit the second tower.
Those of us in the room realized what we first thought was a terrible accident was actually an attack on our country. Although I had been briefed prior to September 11th that a terrorist attack on our homeland was always possible, until that morning it seemed unlikely.
For several minutes we sat in silence watching the scene unfold on the television screen. Little did we know that in a few minutes sirens would be going off around Washington. Just 30 minutes after watching the live coverage of the attacks in New York, I received a message on my government-issued Blackberry - “A plane has hit the Pentagon, we are under attack.” I walked out onto the 10th floor balcony to see what was happening. Plumes of smoke were rising from the Pentagon. It did not seem real. I had just been in a meeting at the Pentagon the day before. I looked down onto the street to see people running and police cars, ambulances and fire trucks already rushing through the traffic with sirens blaring.
I knew that my boss, Congressman Mike Pence, was on Capitol Hill that morning. I tried to call him, but all telephones were down – no land lines, no cell phones. The only thing that was working was my Blackberry e-mail. I sent him a note to see what he knew. He said that Capitol Hill police were escorting him to a command center with other Congressional leaders. When I told him that I was a block from the White House, he typed the note, “Get out of there! They are saying that a plane is targeting the White House.” Later we would learn that the fourth plane would end up crashing in a Pennsylvania field because of the brave acts of its passengers.
It didn’t take long for me to decide that I was not leaving. By this time, I had already heard that the subway was closed due to concerns about attacks on the trains. And as I looked onto the street, I realized it was useless to try to get out of the city.
God granted me a peace that is hard to explain. I looked around the office and at several desks were women in tears. It wasn’t long before I realized that they were trying to reach their husbands, many of whom worked at the Pentagon. With all phone lines being out of commission it was a helpless feeling. Most of the people had already been evacuated from our building. One woman just sat at her desk with a stunned look on her face and a tear rolling down her cheek. “Can I pray with you?” I asked. “Please”, she responded. We prayed for her husband and his safety. We prayed for our nation. She then gathered her belongings and left. Then, one by one, I prayed with other ladies at their desks as they struggled with the uncertainty of the fate of their loved ones. In the end we would learn that 189 people were killed at the Pentagon that day. To this day I do not know how many of the women I prayed with that day were reunited with their husbands.
I was not able to communicate with my own family, so I could not imagine how I would have felt if Karen had worked at the Pentagon. Karen and the kids were at our apartment in Alexandria, Virginia. Like many other families in the area, they did not know where I was or how I was doing until later that day.
Several hours later I was able to get out of the city and share with my family the events of the day. It is on days like this that your blessings are vivid.
Days later I was escorted through the Pentagon by a friend who serves with Special Operations Command. The odor was strong. The smoke stained everything I saw as we walked down the hallways of pieces of stone, metal and shattered glass. Offices were destroyed and the food court was in wreckage. What once seemed like a fortress to me, now seemed vulnerable. However, it wasn't the destruction that left an impression on me as much as the spirit of those I spoke with that day. "We will be stronger." "We are fine." "Never again." All of the words I heard from my friends were uplifting and determined. That is the spirit of America and one I will always remember.
For me the memory of 9-11 isn’t about what I saw on a television screen that frightful and terrible day. My memories are of personally seeing smoke pour out of the Pentagon, of seeing our people under attack and praying with hurting people in a building within yards of the White House.
As I look back on that day, I am grateful for the men and women who run into buildings when others are running out. I am grateful that our nation had the resolve to find those who committed such an evil act against our people and is still bringing them to justice. I am thankful for our soldiers, sailors, airmen, marines and first responders for their willingness to sacrifice everything for us and our freedom.
May we always remember those who lost their lives. May we always be thankful for those who serve us on the front lines. May we be ever vigilant in our defense of freedom.
