AS IF IT WERE YESTERDAY
Lisa’s Lines
As If It Were Yesterday – 9/11
By Lisa Chookasezian
Some days in our lives we can never forget. Whether it be a wonderful occasion like the birth of a child, or the joining of two loved ones in marriage. We can also never forget the tragedies that befall us all, such a the death of a loved one. Tuesday, the 11th of September 2001 is such a day. I was born many decades after World War II, however, the words spoken by then President Franklin Delano Roosevelt, still apply, and resonate, to this horrific day, “A Day That Will Live in Infamy.”
The City of New York was shaken to it’s core, as was our beloved country when we were attacked on American soil. The last time that happened was Pearl Harbor. This however was unfathomable. How could this happen.?. Why? So many questions that could never really be answered. As the wife of a first responder, a New Yorker, and an American, I constantly ask myself why, and probably always will.
My wonderful husband Captain Noel Maitland, who is now in his 25th year on the Department, was assigned to Engine Company 4 & Ladder 15, in lower Manhattan. A relatively quiet area for fighting fires, because people were too busy making money on Wall Street. Noel, would always speak about the magnificent buildings downtown, and that nothing could possibly destroy anything on Wall Street. He did caution however, that if anything major were to happen like the 1993 World Trade Center bombing, it could be devastating because of the close proximity of the buildings.
On that fateful day in September, the sun was shinning, and the day looked to be a replica of a glorious Summer day. Noel had come home from work the night before after a 24hour shift, and was at the car dealership having something fixed in his vehicle. As I sat at my desk going through the daily newspapers, and watching the morning news for my job as a journalist, I glanced up from what I was doing, and thought I was watching a terrible accident of a small plane going into the World Trade Center. I truly couldn’t believe it was anything more than that. Next thing I knew a second plan veered into the South Tower. At that very moment, my phone rang and it was my editor at The Sunday Times, who said, “Welcome to the world of terrorism.” I told him he was crazy, but when I let go of my disbelief, I realized that he was probably correct. I tried ringing photographers to try and get them down to Trade Towers, or what was left of them, to no avail. All phone lines were down, and I was not able to ring the U.K. again.
In the midst of all the insanity, I realized that my husband needed to know what had transpired, and what was continuing to happen. I tried tracking him down at the car dealership, and suddenly he appeared in the house. He blurted out, “What have they done?” He had made several attempts to reach his firehouse, which was situated on South Street in Manhattan, but could not get through. We both saw the crawl on the bottom of the television screen advising all First Responders to report to work. Noel, and I hugged, and I bravely told him to be careful. He wanted to take the Long Island Railroad, because he didn’t think he would be able to drive into Manhattan as they had closed all the bridges and tunnels.
Noel ran out of the house before I could even tell him that I would drive him to the train station. The phones were ringing with people inquiring about Noel, and as I was half listening, I saw an update on the bottom of the screen advising that service on the Long Island Railroad had been suspended. I immediately begged off the phone call, and dashed into my car, to try and get to Noel and advise him about the train, when I saw him running back towards our house. Noel gathered himself once again, and started to make a mental list of what he needed, and he kissed me goodbye. At that very moment, I started to shake and cry uncontrollably. I didn’t want him to leave, and neither of us knew what he was about to face, or if he would ever return. The nightmare of the terrorist attack was unfolding, but my nightmare was just beginning.
Being married to a fireman, I suppose you have to be prepared for all sorts of horrible things, but I don’t think you are ever really prepared. I know I wasn’t. He may have been one of NY’s Bravest, but I don’t think I was. Fixated on the television I tried to get as much information as possible. I was thankful that Noel had not been working that morning. As I would later learn, his entire company that was on duty that day – save for the two chauffeurs who drove the rigs – perished when the towers fell. Noel’s company was one of the first to respond when the alarm came in. That motley crew of imperfect heroes, were indeed heroic on that day. The got up to the 78th floor, and helped countless people who are alive today because of their bravery.
Like the wonderful men in his company, and all of the countless brethren who ran in while others were running out, my husband responded without any thought for himself. When he finally made it to his firehouse, it had been completely decimated. The rigs were gone, a few stray coats, helmets and gloves were strewn about, and there wasn’t any breathing apparatus to be found… Noel actually had to cobble together gear, and ran on foot to where the towers once stood.
He searched in vain for his company, and finally met up with Engine 18, and worked with them for hours in the rubble, searching desperately for any signs of life. At 3:30 in the afternoon, I finally heard from Noel. He was using someone else’s cell phone, and he wanted to let me know that he was okay, and that he was down at Battery Park City. He said that he couldn’t talk long, and that he didn’t want me to worry. Me, worry! He sounded like the stuffing had been knocked out of him. Not worrying wasn’t even an option. I never shut off the television and each flicker of information made me that more anxious than before. I was now in my second round of worrying. I finally received a call from Noel at about 5:30PM. If possible he sounded worse than he did the first time. His voice was thready and weak. He sounded like a little boy, trying to assure me that he was fine, and I just started crying again. When I asked him when he was coming home, he said he didn’t know, maybe in a few days, or it could be weeks. He told me that he loved me, and once again told me not to worry. That was impossible.
As the skies became darker, my fear and anxiety increased. The waiting was unbearable. I was up most of the night – it was just me and the late ABC anchorman Peter Jennings! At one point, I heard jets whizzing over my house, and ran outside to my porch to see two F16 fighter jets – I felt as if I was in the middle of a nightmare or a really frightening film. I passed out at some point in the middle of the night, and was awoken by the sounds of my phone and cell phone ringing.. I was getting phone calls from all over the world, and was in the midst of a conversation with my childhood friend, when I heard the front door unlock. I dropped the phone, and screamed, “Who’s there?” It’s me little Lisa, it’s Noel ,” I heard him say. No words were ever more beautiful.
My sweet, wonderful husband stood at the top of the stairs, full of dust from top of his head to toes of his 6’3” frame. His eyes were rimed red and bloodshot. He was a bit unsteady on his feet, with a medical tag hanging from his wrist, and a bandage on his hand. His handsome face was ashen, and he was wearing a pair of shorts, hospital socks, and someone’s sweatshirt – which he still proudly displays on his dresser. His bunker gear was smoldering on the front porch in a plastic bag. He stripped off all of his garments and threw everything outside. I grabbed him never wanting to let go, and the first thing I could utter was, “Were you in the hospital?”. When he responded, “Yes,” I could only say, “Couldn’t they have at least cleaned you up?”. This of course was a rhetorical question, and I just fell into his arms and told him how much I loved him.
After Noel took what seemed like an unending shower, he came out of our bedroom and sobbed. He told me 9 men were missing, and probably dead. He just continued to repeat their names like a mantra. He proceeded to tell me about the events that had transpired, and I listened numbly. He also told me that he was going to rest for a bit and then head back to continue searching for his brothers. I don’t know if he ever thought he would find them, but he wanted to believe it with all his heart. At the time, I had hoped that we had dodged a bullet, and all would be well, and although it would haunt us, Noel in particular mentally, we would make our way back with love and courage.
Of course nothing is as it seems, and there have been so many health questions for the survivors, from every type of cancer known to man, as well as PTSD. When we were having fertility issues, at the suggestion of a friend we went to a urologist, who after a battery of tests discovered that Noel had kidney cancer. Initially it was thought to have been testicular cancer, however, the incredibly caring and thorough doctor found it to be in his kidney. The tumor, thankfully was encapsulated, and was the size of a golf ball – your kidney is the size of your hand.
Miraculously, the cancer hadn’t spread, and Noel’s incomparable surgeon not only saved his life, he saved his kidney. I can never thank his doctor enough for what he did. Noel did not need chemo, and all seemed well. He went back to work, recovered, and was doing his follow-ups when the doctor found the beginning stages of prostate cancer, which is extremely rare in a man under the age of 40. Once again, he had to undergo surgery, and thankfully he has been cancer free.
During this entire ordeal, we never gave up hope of having children. After many hours of research, I found a doctor in California – our miracle worker – and on the 20th of September 2006, I gave birth to our daughter Rebecca Lynn Maitland. On the 27th of March 2009, our second jewel was born – our little boy, Marc Samuel Pelham Maitland. Our children have been our unending shower of riches.
The pain and heartache of September 11th will never leave us as a couple, as New Yorkers, as Americans, as a country. We were a young married couple beginning our lives together. Noel a fireman with aspirations of moving up in rank, so that he could give even more to the department. I was a carefree, working married woman, who couldn’t wait to become a mom. Many of our dreams have come true. But when he leaves the house for work, I hug him hard and tell him “I love you, be careful.” And Noel, well just like 19 years ago, he has a birthday coming up on the 14th. He is in great shape, and still has the heart of a young boy, but behind those blue eyes, I sometimes see a sadness that can never be erased. He doesn’t laugh as loud or as frequently as he once did, and he can be very quiet and introspective. However, the laughter of our children can always bring him the joy and happiness that make us both smile.
As this day approaches, Noel will stand with his men, and count his blessings that he was able to return home, when so many did not. As for me, I am very fortunate that the love of my life, my best friend, and my hero is still here. Nineteen years may have passed, but it seems as if it were yesterday.
“All gave some, some gave all.” Never forget.