I'm sure that everyone who was old enough to be aware will forever remember what they were doing when the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 happened. That morning, Cliff had a boat to catch (he was going on a 3 day trip with one of the 6 destroyers for which he served as chaplain) so we were up early. We never turned on the TV in the morning, but Cliff did that morning. It was around 6:00 and I had jumped in the shower while Cliff searched for a weather report. Next thing I knew, he was in the bathroom telling me to come out, that I had to see this. I knew it must be something terrible, firstly because of the tone of his voice, and secondly because...you just don't get someone out of the shower to show them something interesting. I got to the TV, dripping wet, just in time to see the second plane hit. At first, it was being reported as a possible accident, now there was no question what this was. We stood there staring for a few seconds, and then Cliff snapped out of it and frantically gathered his things. "I've got to go," he announced. "I'll be lucky to get on the base." As it turns out, they shut down the wet side of the base and he missed ship's movement. He went to work, as usual (but lucky for him, now he at least had a bag packed).
I remember my dad calling shortly thereafter. He was really shaken up, too. I don't remember everything we talked about that morning, but I do remember watching and talking about the rescue workers going in there to try to save people. (My dad had been a firefighter when I was little.) I remember thinking how brave they were and how high they'd have to climb to get to people...and hearing someone on the news say something about the firefighters heading up the stairs, passing all the people on their way down. Then the first tower fell. It instantly hit me that all those rescue workers were probably dead. I remember thinking I was going to vomit. It just seemed incomprensible. I went over to my neighbor's house and we watched the second tower fall together.
In total disbelief, I drove the kids to school...Troy and Patrick to the elementary school in our military housing neighborhood, Jake to his "Toddler School" at Children's Hospital, and Coree came to the college preschool with me, as usual. I went to my algebra class, which was pretty empty. I had a built in study period following that, and so I headed to the cafeteria, where I normally ate breakfast while I did my homework. The place was swamped with people. Someone had brought in TVs so people could watch the coverage, and there were even sign language interpreters taking turns translating. I remember the whole thing being surreal. Then they announced that classes were canceled. I walked back over the the preschool to pick up Coree and as soon as I walked onto the playground, Cliff was calling on my cellphone. He told me that he loved me and that he was sorry it had to be like this, but that they were flying them out to the carrier and he didn't know when they'd be back. Nothing made sense. We'd gone from normal morning to world turned upside down in a matter of a few hours. After I pulled myself together, I just went and rounded up all my kids and took them home. Cliff was gone for at least 2 weeks, I don't remember, it might have been 3...but from that point on, they were in work-up mode and rarely home. They moved up their regularly scheduled deployment to November (instead of January). Some time in early October, I had a little break down when the numbness wore off and all of this finally hit me.
These pictures are of the morning that Cliff deployed with the Stennis battlegroup. Ironically enough, they left on Veteran's Day. It was the first major ship's deployment following 9/11, so every major national news entity was there.
Even though I understood the news interest of it all, it was not fun to be surrounded by a dozen cameras clicking away while you are sobbing, trying to say goodbye to the love of your life for an undetermined amount of time. Back then we didn't know how any of this was going to turn out, and people were making some pretty dire predictions.
One of my favorite memories is from that morning. In order to "man the rail" (stand around the deck of the ship) when it is getting ready to shove off, you have to be in your dress uniform. Cliff's dress blues went to the neighborhood cleaners the week before he left, and we went to pick them up only to find out that the cleaners was closed on weekends! We just figured, "Oh well." I told him I'd mail them to him as soon as I could. So, no big deal, he just wore his khakis, and after we said our goodbyes, we knew that would be it...but we still stayed to watch the ship shove off. For those of you that have never seen an aircraft carrier up close, they are HUGE, and very high-up from the dock. We were with some other friends from the squadron just taking in the sight of all these people buzzing around this huge ship. Then, out of the corner of my eye, up on the rail, I see this freak in khaki, jumping around and waving his arms. It was Cliff!
(click to enlarge...and you can see Cliff in khaki to the left of the 7. This was a really bad camera, sorry!)
I screamed, "Kids, look! It's Dad!" They all started jumping around and waving their flags, calling, "Dad! Daddy!" (The news cameras were all over that!) He was blowing us kisses and waving like crazy. Next thing we know, over the loud speaker, we hear, "Dress uniform required for 2nd deck and above". He was totally busted. (What were they going to do...send him to Afghanistan?) He started walking toward the stairwell, waving and blowing us kisses the whole way. Even as he was walking down the stairs, he kept jumping up and blowing us kisses, until all we could see were his finger tips. I was sobbing and blowing kisses back at him. He gave one last big jump and wave, and he was gone. It meant SO much to me that he would take such a chance and make such a spectacle of himself just to cheer us up. (That kept us going for quite awhile!) As the ship prepared to leave, they played "Fanfare for the Common Man". It was so emotional. My friend Leah and I hugged each other and cried as we watched our husbands sail off into the sunrise.
I remember my dad calling shortly thereafter. He was really shaken up, too. I don't remember everything we talked about that morning, but I do remember watching and talking about the rescue workers going in there to try to save people. (My dad had been a firefighter when I was little.) I remember thinking how brave they were and how high they'd have to climb to get to people...and hearing someone on the news say something about the firefighters heading up the stairs, passing all the people on their way down. Then the first tower fell. It instantly hit me that all those rescue workers were probably dead. I remember thinking I was going to vomit. It just seemed incomprensible. I went over to my neighbor's house and we watched the second tower fall together.
In total disbelief, I drove the kids to school...Troy and Patrick to the elementary school in our military housing neighborhood, Jake to his "Toddler School" at Children's Hospital, and Coree came to the college preschool with me, as usual. I went to my algebra class, which was pretty empty. I had a built in study period following that, and so I headed to the cafeteria, where I normally ate breakfast while I did my homework. The place was swamped with people. Someone had brought in TVs so people could watch the coverage, and there were even sign language interpreters taking turns translating. I remember the whole thing being surreal. Then they announced that classes were canceled. I walked back over the the preschool to pick up Coree and as soon as I walked onto the playground, Cliff was calling on my cellphone. He told me that he loved me and that he was sorry it had to be like this, but that they were flying them out to the carrier and he didn't know when they'd be back. Nothing made sense. We'd gone from normal morning to world turned upside down in a matter of a few hours. After I pulled myself together, I just went and rounded up all my kids and took them home. Cliff was gone for at least 2 weeks, I don't remember, it might have been 3...but from that point on, they were in work-up mode and rarely home. They moved up their regularly scheduled deployment to November (instead of January). Some time in early October, I had a little break down when the numbness wore off and all of this finally hit me.
These pictures are of the morning that Cliff deployed with the Stennis battlegroup. Ironically enough, they left on Veteran's Day. It was the first major ship's deployment following 9/11, so every major national news entity was there.
Even though I understood the news interest of it all, it was not fun to be surrounded by a dozen cameras clicking away while you are sobbing, trying to say goodbye to the love of your life for an undetermined amount of time. Back then we didn't know how any of this was going to turn out, and people were making some pretty dire predictions.
One of my favorite memories is from that morning. In order to "man the rail" (stand around the deck of the ship) when it is getting ready to shove off, you have to be in your dress uniform. Cliff's dress blues went to the neighborhood cleaners the week before he left, and we went to pick them up only to find out that the cleaners was closed on weekends! We just figured, "Oh well." I told him I'd mail them to him as soon as I could. So, no big deal, he just wore his khakis, and after we said our goodbyes, we knew that would be it...but we still stayed to watch the ship shove off. For those of you that have never seen an aircraft carrier up close, they are HUGE, and very high-up from the dock. We were with some other friends from the squadron just taking in the sight of all these people buzzing around this huge ship. Then, out of the corner of my eye, up on the rail, I see this freak in khaki, jumping around and waving his arms. It was Cliff!
(click to enlarge...and you can see Cliff in khaki to the left of the 7. This was a really bad camera, sorry!)
I screamed, "Kids, look! It's Dad!" They all started jumping around and waving their flags, calling, "Dad! Daddy!" (The news cameras were all over that!) He was blowing us kisses and waving like crazy. Next thing we know, over the loud speaker, we hear, "Dress uniform required for 2nd deck and above". He was totally busted. (What were they going to do...send him to Afghanistan?) He started walking toward the stairwell, waving and blowing us kisses the whole way. Even as he was walking down the stairs, he kept jumping up and blowing us kisses, until all we could see were his finger tips. I was sobbing and blowing kisses back at him. He gave one last big jump and wave, and he was gone. It meant SO much to me that he would take such a chance and make such a spectacle of himself just to cheer us up. (That kept us going for quite awhile!) As the ship prepared to leave, they played "Fanfare for the Common Man". It was so emotional. My friend Leah and I hugged each other and cried as we watched our husbands sail off into the sunrise.
It was still dark outside when Cliff had to be there to "hurry up and wait". We started off at the Krispy Kreme drive-thru, so the kids weren't complaining.
Time to say goodbye:
6 comments:
Oh Carrie, way to make me bawl! I remember well that day.. it was our 25th anniversary! Thanks to Cliff for all he does to contribute to the greatness of this country and to all military families for their sacrifice! I love you guys.
That's right! Didn't you guys travel somewhere right afterward and fly over ground zero?
Ok--note to self never read your blog while I am at work! I cried my eyes out! Thanks for sharing your family experience during that difficult time. We thank you for all of the sacrifices.
Sorry!...and thank YOU guys, too, for your service! I was just telling a student today (a former Marine) that when I meet Marines (past or present) that I automatically like them. They have to really screw up to change that!
Did you gentle readers know about Carrie's military tradition? Her grandpa was a WWII Submariner, a motor mac who used tools about the size of a Volkswagen to work on huge Diesel engines. No atomic "Moonbeam" Navy for her Grampa. Carrie's father was the oddball, written out of the family will because he joined the Army to fly. Got an all expense paid "Senior Trip" to Vietnam in 1967 as a 19 year old pilot. Then there is Carrie, a field combat trained Navy Corpsman, and the apple of her sailor grampa's eye. Should you want to read more about her family tradition, go here:
[url=http://www.geocities.com/Baja/Dunes/4791/index.html]The Old Gringo[/url]
JGP
Thanks, Dad! I don't know why I didn't think to link to Grandpa's website. It's on there now. Love you!
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