Never Forget
It’s 7:45 p.m., and roughly 150 members of Congress convened on the steps of the U.S. Capitol. First, they observe a bipartisan moment of silence. Then, spontaneously, they sing “God Bless America,” an act of defiance in the face of sheer terror. What would bring together a bipartisan group of Congress in this patriotic moment? It was the worst attack on U.S. soil since Pearl Harbor.
It started as a day like any other. Working on Capitol Hill meant long, unpredictable days. The list of things to do would probably become irrelevant by 10 a.m., replaced by another list. This was before social media and tireless cable news coverage brought you the latest in real-time.
That morning, we had a subcommittee hearing on Internet Tax Fairness, a critical consumer issue with a looming deadline since a congressional moratorium would expire in another six weeks and Congress could not get a resolution. I worked for the Subcommittee Chairman, Representative Bob Barr, representing northwest Georgia in the then-7th Congressional District.
We were together doing last-minute preparation when the news broke just before 9 a.m. that a plane (American Flight 11) struck the North Tower of the World Trade Center. We watched, believing some terrible accident had occurred, unaware of the tragedy unfolding that day. We started the hearing about 15 minutes late after the second plane (United Flight 175) hit the South Tower, and Congressman Barr asked for a moment of silence for those affected by the tragedy.
By 9:37 a.m., a third plane (American Flight 77) crashed into the Pentagon, killing all the passengers on board and 125 military and civilian personnel, including a former Hill colleague I’d seen just the week before. At 9:45 a.m., Capitol Police ordered the evacuation of the Capitol and office complexes. We ended the hearing abruptly and helped get everyone out of the hearing room. Congressman Barr insisted on returning to his office but told us to evacuate safely.
Thousands of people poured into the streets from the House office buildings, unsure where to go or what to do. Amid the crowd, I found several staff members and directed them to meet at the corner of First and C Streets. One staffer had just relocated from Georgia and started the day before, totally lost. When I guided her to our meeting place, the South Tower had already collapsed. Flight 93 had crashed in Somerset County, Pennsylvania, 20 minutes away from its likely intended target, the U.S. Capitol. I often marvel at the bravery of the men and women on that flight who took matters into their own hands and sacrificed their lives for the safety of thousands, including me, in the U.S. Capitol complex.
When the North Tower fell at roughly 10:28 a.m. that morning, every restaurant and bar nearby was full of displaced congressional employees watching television coverage. In Washington, D.C., cell phone signals were jammed, making it impossible to get a call out, so the line for the available payphones was impossibly long.
I sent our staff to the nearby apartment of our staff scheduler to set up temporary operations, further away from danger. While I watched the smoke on the horizon from the Pentagon, rumors were rampant on the streets: reports of a car bombing at the State Department, other planes still in the air, and heading for the Capitol. Word was spreading about the desperate acts of those still trapped in the towers before the collapse. In short, it was chaos.
Suddenly, my phone vibrated, and I saw 35 phone messages from my wife and other family members. I tried to call my wife, but the cell signal was still jammed. One tiny bit of fortune: Congressman Barr insisted that the senior staff members get a BlackBerry phone. I could email my family to let them know I was safe and would call when I could. Listening later, I could hear my wife’s voice get more frantic with each unanswered call.
The next few hours were spent trying to get news, stay connected to staff and the Congressman, and plot out the next steps. We were allowed back into our offices late afternoon and handled press and constituent calls. As the sun was setting in Washington, members of Congress gathered on the U.S. Capitol steps to honor those who had lost their lives and show unity. To this day, 9/11 is through the lens of the events I witnessed in Washington that day and not through the television coverage that so many people remember.
My story pales in comparison to those who died on the planes, in the towers of the World Trade Center or the Pentagon, or who bravely went toward the crisis while the rest of us were evacuating. The families of nearly 3,000 dead and 25,000 injured have spent years processing their loss, even to this very day.
For the rest of us, we were unwilling witnesses to one of the most horrific tragedies in recent U.S. history. Everyone knows their 9/11 story, often with the same sense of danger as those in New York or Washington. It is, in short, a universally shared experience. Part of that experience is reliving the fear and uncertainty of that day as the facade of security fell around us.
In the meantime, take today to remember those who perished that day and the families they left behind. We should also thank the brave men and women who risked their lives to help others be safe. If we want to honor them, we should reject fear and instead act with resolve despite it.
History teaches us that empires rot from within before falling to enemies from the outside. Even now, two decades later, we can either let 9/11 be the beginning of the end or the start of something different. Call me a foolish optimist, but we can still reflect those heroes.