Welcome to Dakota Thyme

As the tenth anniversary of one of our nation’s greatest tragedies approaches, I am traveling with my husband Jim, and our youngest son Tony to Beijing where Tony will represent the USA in the World Junior Triathlon Championships on 9-11.  It will be an amazing day for our family yet bittersweet as we remember those individuals who we have lost, those who continue to suffer, those whose lives have forever changed, and the service men and women who willingly place themselves in harm’s way in order to protect our country and preserve democracy.  May God bless each and every one.

Ten years ago my business travels took me to Washington, DC.  Following are notes from my journal describing my days in DC surrounding 9-11.  Many thanks to Steve Buchholz for his assistance in editing those journal entries for inclusion in the Fall 2001 SDSM&T campus magazine.

God Bless America!

9/11/2001 - In the Midst of Terror

7:30 a.m. – I awaken in a Washington, D.C., hotel room after an unusual night of fitful sleep. Nights on the road generally offer the best sleep. There’s no snoring husband, no purring cat, no barking dog, and no children wanting to climb into bed in the middle of night.

8:45 a.m. – I grab a taxi. We pass the south side of the White House. Although I have traveled this route many times, today the White House and the grounds seem too close to public access and vulnerable forsome reason.

9 a.m. – The taxi driver drops me off outside the Hart Building, one of several Senate Office buildings near the Capitol. Security clears me through the gate and I head to the elevator and the fifth floor.

9:05 a.m. – As I enter the lobby of Senator Daschle’s office, I turn to the television tuned to CSPAN. The scene isn’t a vote or debate on the Senate or House floor. I see one of the World Trade Center towers ablaze and watch in disbelief as another plane hits the second tower.

9:10 a.m. – Paul Batcheller, a Daschle staffer, calls me back to one of the conference rooms. We talk briefly of the horror we just witnessed. I think of my husband’s boyhood friend who works in the World Trade Center, his wife and their four young children. My voice falters a bit. Paul and I go about the business at hand, updating each other on current activities and discussing options for a proposed demonstration project.

9:45 a.m. – A voice in the hall loudly and firmly tells everyone to “Evacuate the building now. Go home. Call your voicemail for a message from me later.” Again she repeats, “Evacuate the building now. Go home.” Paul heads around the corner to his office. I follow a stream of people out through the lobby and down the stairs. I see another Daschle staff member dialing his cell phone. As he closes it, I ask if he knows what’s happening. He responds only that it is serious. I dial Congressman Thune’s Office, the location for my next meeting. The cell phone traffic has jammed the airways. The streets outside the Hart Building fill with staff and visitors. Nearly everyone is trying to use cell phones. I head toward Union Station a few blocks away. I overhear people talking about another plane that has crashed into the Pentagon. I look over my shoulder and see dark smoke rising from the direction of the Pentagon. I dial my husband and leave a message on the cell phone – “A plane has just crashed into the Pentagon. I am near the Capitol. I am going to try to catch a taxi and head back to the hotel. I love you. Please call me.” I feel badly about my trembling voice. I regain my composure and dial again. I can’t get through. I say a prayer for those that have suffered and ask God to keep me safe.

9:50 a.m. – I consider my transportation options. Although the Metro is just downstairs, the thought of potentially being trapped below ground isn’t one of comfort. I reach Union Station and head for the taxi queue line. I am thrilled the line is very short. I dial my husband again – no luck. The same is true for my office at Tech. I dial Thune’s Office to confirm the cancellation of my appointment. The receptionist’s familiar greeting “Congressman John Thune’s office” surprises me. I ask to speak to David Fisher. We are disconnected.

9:55 a.m. – I climb into the taxi and give the address of my hotel – 24th and M Street. The traffic is surprisingly light. We head past the Washington Mall and seen people streaming toward the street. The cab driver picks up another passenger. His destination is the same hotel. He is from California, traveling on business and was on his way to visit Senator Baccus, an old friend of his. He explains that his wife isin New York, but he doesn’t think she should be near the Trade Center. He hasn’t been able to get through on the cell phone. We listen to Bob Edwards on NPR as he describes the situation. The streets fill with people and the traffic slows. The cab driver picks up another passenger. She climbs in and announces an unfamiliar address, apparently some point beyond the hotel. We again unsuccessfully dial our cell phones. We hear sirens from every direction. I’m amazed and comforted that people on the street remain calm. Bob Edwards describes the Pentagon scene from the television he is watching. We turn and see smoke darken and fill the sky to the south. As we travel past taller buildings, we see people in the upper floors looking out.

Bob Edwards announces that the second World Trade Center tower hit is collapsing before his eyes. We all gasp inside the taxi. I think of Mike and hope that he has made it out of the building. Mike is a successful investment broker who planned to work only another year or two and then retire to spend time with his family. I tell myself that I will never again be envious of his success. I wish I were back in Rapid City with my family and I wonder what will happen next.

Traffic becomes gridlock near the White House. Security vehicles have set up a perimeter several blocks way. More sirens. Military vehicles close streets. We listen to Bob Edwards for more news. We hear that the State Department has been bombed. We later learn this is a false report. We see businesses close their doors. I see a crowd at the Avis rental car desk. Many customers have their arms in the air. As we near the hotel, traffic comes to a complete halt. We opt to walk the remaining three blocks. The cab driver announces the total fare is only $9, the same fare as my rush-hour ride earlier that morning.

I arrive in the hotel and take the elevator to the sixth floor. I am happy to be so near street level. I check my voicemail in my room. My husband has left a message “Please call. We’ve seen the news and we’re worried. I love you.” I call my husband. We talk and watch CNN. He has called the elementary school where our two sons attend to let the staff know I’m OK in the event the boys hear the news. He has called the home of Mike, his friend of 30 years. Mike’s wife Julie has left a message on their voicemail, “Mike is alive.” Julie and I gave birth to our first children only days apart. I wonder about Rick, my sister in-law’s cousin. He was an investment banker who had moved to New York for just few years. Like Mike, he had been very successful and planned to retire within a few years to spend time with his family.

10:28 a.m. – Jim and I continue to watch CNN as we talk. The second tower collapses. My heart sinks again. Jim tells me that my parents are worried and asks me to please call my dad. I say goodbye to Jim and tell him that I love him and ask him to give our boys a big hug for me. I promise to keep in touch.

10:35 a.m. – I call my dad at his office in Rapid City. His secretary answers the phone. “Please hold. I’ll get him. He’s been waiting to hear from you.” My dad asks how I am and how things are in DC. I recap the morning and that although I am nervous, I am in no immediate danger. I say goodbye and that I love him and please give my love to my mom when he calls her.

11:05 a.m. – I call the office. I recap my morning. Outside, the traffic is nearly at a standstill and the sound of sirens continually fills the air, but everybody is relatively calm.

11:40 a.m. – I sit in the hotel room and watch CNN. A plane has crashed in western Pennsylvania. An image of a website indicates that a plane has just crashed near Camp David. This is later determined to be a false report. I hear an announcement to evacuate the building. At first, I think it is from the news studio. Moments later, I hear it again and realize it is coming from a speaker in my room. I hear people in the hall. I grab two bottles of water, my cell phone and charger, and stuff them in my backpack on the way out the door. I look back at my suitcase and think about changing into comfortable clothes. I decide not to take the time. Hotel guests and staff are ushered to the north to the end of the block. I talk to a woman next to me. She is in D.C. on business from Virginia. She says she thought about leaving the previous night, but didn’t. We talk to a hotel employee. She tells us that the hotel received a bomb threat. “The last time this happened, it took more than three hours to search the building,” she says. I check the time and begin to calculate. If it took three hours on a day when they may have been a priority and when traffic was normal, how long would it take today? Maybe twice as long or longer? It might be dark before we have access, assuming that we receive an all clear.

11:45 a.m. – I call Shelly, a friend and former colleague who now works in DC. We were scheduled to meet for dinner, so I know she is in town. She works for the federal government and like others had gone home. She encourages me to come to her apartment. I write down her new address — about 10 blocks east of the Capitol. I call my husband to keep him apprised of my plans, and start to walk the 40 or so blocks, wishing now that I had at least changed out of my heels into comfortable shoes.

12:10 p.m. – The streets are filled with cars and pedestrians. Many of the shops have closed. On K Street, I overhear a woman asking a man directions to the Renaissance Hotel. Our paths meet and she asks, “What is going on? Why all the traffic?” She explains that she went to the Kenyan Embassy where she had a meeting scheduled, but found the doors locked. I briefly explained the events of the day. She gasped and asked repeatedly “Who would do such a thing? And Why?” We comfort one another with a hug. She asks if I am a Christian. I smile and tell her I am. We talk as we walk until we reached her destination. We wish each well. She left saying, “God bless you, my sister.”

The world has changed. It is a smaller place.

12:45 p.m. – The streets become more deserted as I near the Capitol area. I pass the NPR building. There are security guards near the entrance. I think about the reporters inside and how many people they are reaching at this very moment, wishing one of them was me. I feel uncomfortable not having heard any news in more than an hour. My feet hurt. I can feel blisters starting to form on my heels and little toes. I look for a shoe store. No luck. My concern for those in the World Trade Center and the Pentagon refocuses reality. I walk on.

1 p.m. – The streets are nearly empty. In eight blocks, I see only one vehicle and a bicycle. There are a few more people on the streets as I near Shelly’s apartment. They talk to neighbors and street vendors.

1:15 p.m. – I finally reach Shelly’s apartment. She buzzes me in and I walk up the stairs to her apartment to a familiar face. I call my husband and office to tell them I have arrived safely. All afternoon and into the evening Shelly, her roommate, a stranded co-worker, and I watch the news. I talk to my staff, my family, and the Rapid City Journal. I talk with Paul in Senator Daschle’s office. He called to make sure I had gotten out of the building and had a safe place to stay.

7 p.m. – We order dinner and walk a few blocks to pick it up. The bullet proof glass is another reminder of the urban violence that plagues much of our country everyday that escapes my mind living in Rapid City. The streets are empty. Shelly and her roommate comment that the street is this quiet only in the predawn hours of the Crews look for survivors at the World Trade Center site.

I call the hotel. They are letting guests back into the hotel. We watch and listen to the President’s address. Shelly drives me back to the hotel passing but a few cars. We see a police helicopter with a searchlight circling the area. More sirens. The perimeter around the White House appears to have increased. Streets are still closed. Military troops with their Humvees are on many street corners.

I return to my room and check in with my family. Mike is alive. No news on Rick. I talk to my sons ages seven and eleven, for a long time. They have many questions “Did you have to run away? Are you hurt? When will you be home? Will you have to fly in an airplane?” I reassure them as best I can and tell them that I love them.

I return to CNN coverage. I think about how many failed hijacking attempts there might have been and where the would-be hijackers are now and what they might be planning.

10 p.m. – I try to sleep, but decide I should keep the television on low volume in the event I need an immediate update at some point in the middle of the night.

10:10 p.m. – I quickly get out of bed thinking that I need to be prepared in the event of another evacuation. I set out my clothes and comfortable shoes. I pack my backpack with bottled water and healthy snack, and I plug in my cell phone and keep it within arms length.

10:15 p.m. – The phone rings. It is Hillary, the contact for the conference where I was to present the following day. The conference has been cancelled and she asks me to join her for lunch. We agree to talk in the morning.

10:30 p.m. – I hear sirens, a fighter jet and a helicopter. I pull the drapes to look outside. Nothing visible except the office building next door. It is empty but lights on in every window, and the construction site across the way also is lit by stringers of lights. They are all signs that workers left in haste. I decide to watch the news for a bit longer.

11 p.m. – I finally go to sleep.

Wednesday, September 12

7 a.m. – I wake hoping that this was all a nightmare. The news confirms that it was not.

9 a.m. – Hillary calls and we arrange to meet for lunch. I walk and grab a cup of coffee. The streets are filled with people, mostly dressed casually, all looking a bit numb, just as I feel. We have lunch and walk a bit more. I watch the news and call the travel agent. National Airport is closed, as are all other airports, but they are hopeful to be open in the morning. I watch the news and talk with family and co-workers.

I again prepare for an unexpected evacuation before I go to sleep. I fear that this may be a ritual to be repeated during my future travels.

Thursday, September 12

I wake and watch the news. While many airports begin limited service, National Airport will remain closed, rumors suggest indefinitely. I am determined to go home. It is still too early to call a travel agent in Rapid City, but I begin calling rental car companies. I wait through the automated phone system for an agent. They tell me no one-way rentals will be allowed, but to call Avis. I call Avis and again wait for an agent. I call UHaul with my cell phone. I know they permit one-way rentals. I reserve a small truck as a back up while I wait for Avis. An Avis agent finally answers. Yes, they have a vehicle at Dulles Airport. I reserve it and take a taxi to Dulles. I call the travel agent and make arrangements for a flight out of Pittsburgh for Thursday morning. This could put me back in Rapid City before noon. Great news.

1 p.m. – I check out of the hotel and head for Pittsburgh. Finally, I feel like I have a little control.

6:20 p.m. – I reach the Pittsburgh Airport and decide to make sure it is open and the flight is still scheduled. The airport is empty. There appear to be as many security staff as travelers. The ticket agent tells me that there is room on a flight leaving in 45 minutes. I hurry to return the rental car and rush to the gate.

6:50 p.m. – My bags are searched. Security finds a two-inch pair of scissors in a sewing kit. I quickly stuff things back in my bag. I patiently wait for the shuttle to the gate.

7 p.m. – I reach the gate to see the plane 100 feet from the gate. I stop to catch my breath, charge my cell pone, and see if the plane returns to the gate.

7:15 p.m. – The plane returns. I board the plane and we wait.

8 p.m. – They ask us to exit the plane. No more flights will take off tonight. I deplane and rebook for the 6:30 a.m. flight on Friday.

8:30 p.m. – I check into the airport hotel. I call my family and staff to give them an update. I watch the news and eat dinner.

9:30 p.m. – I try to sleep.

10 p.m. – I hear what I think is a jet plane and a loud crash. I race to the window. It

is only thunder from a rainstorm I hadn’t noticed.

Friday, September 14

4 a.m. – My alarm rings.

4:45 a.m. – I wait in line for the ticket agent. There are 25 other travelers in front of me.

6:15 a.m. – I finally reach the desk and receive a boarding pass.

6:30 a.m. – I reach the gate and board the plane. We depart only a few minutes late. I arrive in Minneapolis at the gate to learn that there has been a gate change. I race to the new gate to learn the flight has been cancelled. I get rebooked on a 1:30 p.m. flight and find a television to watch the news.

Noon – I decide to eat lunch. Much to my discomfort, I see a 12 oz steak on the menu. I assume that the wait staff would provide a steak knife along with that steak. Dread enters my mind as I imagine someone stuffing the knife in their bag and taking it onto an airplane. The restaurants are on the plane side of the security. I no longer was very hungry. Should I say something and risk suspicion? This could mean a delay in getting home. I decide to ask once I am on the ground in Rapid City. The flight is delayed. They are missing a flight attendant. A flight attendant is found but she must now complete a safety check. Waiting passengers cheer and give her a warm round of applause. Now we are told that each flight crew is conducting an independent safety check. This is okay.

3:45 p.m. – We finally take off.

4:15 p.m. – We land in Rapid City. I am so thankful to be home and to see the Black Hills in the distance. I call home. Smiling, I announce that I am on the ground. I leave the building to be see that my vehicle has been towed and the reality hits me again. Even Rapid City has changed.

I drive home looking forward to spending a night in my own bed with a snoring husband, a purring cat, a barking dog, and children wanting to climb into bed in the middle of night.