Reflections on 9/11

As we reflect on this 23rd anniversary of 9/11, many are sharing what they experienced that day. I wanted to share something I wrote in 2016 on the 15th anniversary of 9/11—a collection of memories from working in Washington, D.C. the day we were attacked.

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(From September 11, 2016) Besides the birth of my children, September 11, 2001 is the day most seared into my memory. That day and for many days after, America was unified as a people and in purpose. Often times during this terribly divisive election campaign, I wish we could all remember how great we are as a nation when we are united.

So many of us in Washington and New York have vivid memories that we will pass on to future generations. Here are a few of mine:

I remember driving to work on one of the most brilliant, beautiful days I could recall. I was coming in early because Senator George Allen (R-VA), my boss, was giving a speech that I was to attend. Rick and I lived outside the beltway in a rented 2 bedroom basement condo and on the best of days, traffic required at least an hour commute time.

After the speech, on the way to the office at about 9:00, my cell phone started buzzing indicating I had voice mail messages. The group Sen. Allen spoke to was meeting in the lower level of the Grand Hyatt hotel (which in an ironic twist is now located right next to the building in which I work). In those days, we didn’t have instant texts and e-mails. And when you were underground as we were, the phone signal couldn’t reach you. The first message was a calm but concerned staff member who wanted the Senator to know that a plane had hit the World Trade Center – the assumption was that it was a small private aircraft.

The second call was a bit more anxious. The speculation was now that the plane was a commercial aircraft. By the third, panic was evident as the report to the Senator was that another plane had hit the second Tower. As Senator Allen and I talked about what might be happening, a fourth call stated, “Jay, get the Senator back here NOW. We are at war.”

At the office we all watched with horror as the New York events were replayed. And then the Pentagon was hit. A plane had flown in low directly above I-395 exactly where my car had driven by just minutes before. The rumors spread quickly because no one really knew precisely where that plane had hit. The talk along the corridors of Congressional offices was that it was the White House, or the National Mall that had been struck. We could see the black smoke rising.

Just as we were learning that it was, indeed, the Pentagon which had been attacked, the Capitol Police began running up and down the hallways screaming, “Evacuate! Evacuate! Evacuate Now!”

I had already sent all but the senior staff home, so now only they and the Senator remained, along with a military aide. Senator Allen refused to leave. “We have to have a functioning government,” he told me. And he didn’t think it would be the right message to the rest of the world if Congress fled the Capitol. “They hit the Pentagon. There are Virginians in there.” He was furious.

We argued. As his Chief of Staff, my job was to make sure he was protected and alive to actually govern in the days ahead. And we didn’t know what was next. After what seemed like hours, but was likely just minutes, he reluctantly agreed to decamp to his home in southern Alexandria along with the senior staff so that we could operate from there.

I gave instructions to the military aide: “We don’t know what is happening, but we need to protect the Senator at all costs. You are to drive him straight home as fast as you possibly can. If anyone tries to stop you, if anyone points a gun your way, floor it and run them over.” We didn’t know the extent of the attacks or who was behind it, but there was no way any of us who worked for Congress or the President wanted this unknown enemy to decapitate our government.

The senior staff hurriedly left the office and ran to the parking garage to pile into the large vehicle of one of our colleagues. Suddenly I realized one of us was missing. No one knew where he had gone and everyone had been previously accounted for. I ran back up to the office, swimming against a tide of humans to see if for some unknown reason he had stayed behind.

In the office, I frantically searched through the nine rooms that comprised the Senator’s office suite. I opened every closet and every bathroom door, and checked under every desk. You just didn’t know how people would respond in a situation like this, and I wanted to be sure that no one was left behind. The place was empty.

Just when I was getting ready to rush out the door for the second time, I realized my loved ones had no clue where I was or what might have happened to me. I tried to call Rick, but received the “circuit busy” tone that characterized most cellular communications that day. He was in Charlottesville at a conference, so I knew he was safe.

Then I tried my parents, and left a message on my mother’s cell phone when I couldn't reach anyone. I remember exactly what I said: “Mom – I don’t know what is happening, but we are under attack. You have probably seen the news. I’m Ok now but not sure when I will be able to speak to you again. Want you and Dad to know I love you both.” My voice cracked at "love you both" and for the first time, tears began to flow.

As I quickly closed the door to the office, I stopped cold. There wasn’t any noise. Anywhere. The place was as quiet as a tomb. Then I ran.

I got to the vehicle in the garage with the senior staff and found I was to drive. My first thought was "if something hits the structure above, this is going to be our grave."

We drove as quickly as possible out of town, but the traffic was backed up like nothing I had ever seen. I-395 was closed, forcing everyone to go different routes. When we crossed out of the city and looked back, we all saw for the first time the burning Pentagon in the distance. It was horrifying. No one said a word. Tears began to stain the cheeks of my colleagues and me. They were tears of anger. I knew all of America was feeling the same way.

Most of the rest of the day was a blur. We were in emergency operations mode, and the training from our days in the Governor's office kicked in. We established limited communications, but most of the system was overloaded and overtaxed. Sometime in the early afternoon we heard an airplane slowly flying up the Potomac River and weren’t sure if it was ours or an enemy’s, since all commercial flights had been grounded. We were able to make contact with the state Emergency Operations Center, the Sergeant at Arms in the Senate, and also the media. We were in touch with the Pentagon and we were amazed at how professional and orderly they were only hours after the attack.

At about 2:00, I reached Rick’s mother in California when I still could not get through to him or my parents. It was so comforting to hear her voice - my only connection with my family. I asked her to relay to everyone that I was safe. I found out later that my mother was panicking because she could not get through to me after she heard my message and saw the news of what was happening on the east coast.

The Senator returned to the Capitol that afternoon where he and his colleagues met and stood arm in arm on the steps and sang, “God Bless America,” a vision of unity that displayed the best of America. The President was coming back to Washington and would soon be addressing the nation. The day now felt as though it had been weeks long.

As I was driving my colleague's car to drop me off at home, I said, “let’s go through Crystal City. I need to see the Pentagon.” Virtually no one was on the road at this point. We actually were able to get to a hill, close enough to the Pentagon that it overlooked the smoldering building. That’s where I took the photo above. The rage that swelled in me was stronger than any emotion I have ever felt, and forced more tears from my bloodshot eyes. That overwhelming emotion would be matched only by the patriotic pride I felt later that evening.

When I got home to our condo complex as the sun was setting, that’s when I saw the most awe-inspiring sight I’ve ever witnessed. Every single door in that development – dozens of them – had an American flag hanging. All except ours, because we hadn’t been home yet.

That one moment actually helped to shape my own views on immigration. You see, nearly all of our neighbors spoke English as a second language. They had come here from foreign lands to seek the American Dream. Many were likely naturalized, and no doubt some who were here had overstayed their welcome. But every one of them – and I seriously mean every single one – was standing tall for America. That was the fourth time that day that the tears began to flow. They were now tears of gratitude and pride.

After a fitful night’s sleep, it was back to business. Our office was chaotic as we received hundreds of calls from worried constituents about people they knew at the Pentagon, or who had been on Metro and traveling through the Pentagon Metro station. Cellular communications were still overloaded and spotty.

Throughout all of this, our own staff was taking an assessment of who they personally knew who were lost. Several were desperately trying to reach friends in New York. Some had friends at the Pentagon as well. And as reports of the passengers on the planes came in, we learned that the Senator and I had lost a dear friend and one of his strongest supporters.

Our Richmond office took the lead on getting word to family members of our staff that they were all safe. Many of those calls resulted in parents of our younger staff members breaking down in sobs. Some begged their children (mostly the interns) to come back home and leave Washington, out of harm's way. To a person, each of those staff members respectfully declined. They felt a sense of duty and wanted to stay. Today, they are all rising through the ranks of leadership at various places where they work. I'm so proud of all of them.

Senator Allen took to the floor of the Senate to condemn the attacks and remember those who were lost at the Pentagon. He reminded his fellow Americans that we should never condemn an entire religion, but that we must hold individuals responsible. Every word was his own, without one sentence of input from staff. It was magnificent.

More reports about United Flight 93 that was downed in Shanksville, Pennsylvania trickled in. I am forever grateful to those brave men and women who overpowered the hijackers on that flight and saved so many other lives while they gave their own. That plane was headed for the U.S. Capitol – the most powerful symbol of our nation and our democratic form of government. Had the hijackers been successful, it would have sent a dreadful message of democracy and Liberty being even more crippled than it had been.

I am mindful that many members of Congress and their staffs – including ours – would likely have perished if Flight 93 had made it all the way to Washington. In future years, I will teach my children about Todd Beamer’s heroic call of “Let’s Roll!” and the selfless actions of those other passengers. I will make sure they know that these amazing heroes made their own lives possible several years later because their father was not lost in a destroyed Capitol office building.

I don’t remember much else about the next few days. Government continued to function as we began the preparations for War.

A few days after the attacks, Senator Allen, and his Virginia colleague Senator John Warner, were asked to come to the Pentagon for a briefing and to observe the damage there. Since I had a Top Secret clearance at the time, Senator Allen asked me to come with him.

The building was still smoldering. The stench was unbearable. We met several of the Pentagon brass in their still intact offices on the unaffected sides of the building where they provided a situational report.

After the briefing, we were driven to the side of the Pentagon that had been hit, and where nothing now existed, other than air. As we walked up to the breached building, with its dangling desks and chairs several stories above, I realized I was standing on hallowed ground. For it was here, right under my feet, where 184 souls from Flight 77 lost their lives, as did dozens of others who were serving their country at the Pentagon. And there was nothing left of their physical presence.

That’s when the tears began to flow anew.

So many lives lost on that fateful day of September 11, 2001, and the days and weeks that followed. So many innocents. So many husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers. So many first responders. So many members of the military. So many children.

Children...oh dear Lord, the children.

#neverforget