搜索
Unit4Flight93:WhatIneverknowOnSeptember11,2001,aseriesofsuicideattacksontheUnitedStatestookplace.ForeignhijackerstookcontroloffourU.S.airliners.TwowerecrashedintotheWorldTradeCenter.ThethirdaircraftwascrashedintothePentagon.Thefourth,intended,itisthought,foranothergovernmenttarget,crashedintoafield,apparentlyafterpassengerresistance.ThisisthestoryofoneofthosepassengersSunday,September9,2001,wasagooddayforthethreeofus.Emmywasjust11weeksoldandwewereenjoyingherenormously.Afterthreemiscarriagesintwoyears,shewasdoublyprecioustous.Myhusband,Jeremy,whowasthinkingofchangingjobs,hadgoneontwointerviewsandfelttheywentwell.SinceSundaywasrainy,wejustlayaroundourhouseinnorthernNewJersey.Welaughedalot,andwatchedEmmy,andthenwenttobedearly.Thenextday,September10,wasbusy,withJeremyduetoflyfromNewarktoCaliforniaonbusiness.IwouldtakeEmmyuptomyparents’houseinWindham,NewYork,andhecouldmeetustherewhenhereturned.ForsomereasonheparticularlywantedtotakecareofEmmythatmorning.Sohefedherandbathedanddressedher.Hepackedupbothourcars,madesureEmmywastuckedintohercarseat,andkissedher.Thenhestoodwavingaswedroveoff.WhenIgottoWindham,Jeremycalled.HisflighttoSanFranciscohadbeencanceled.Hedidn’twanttotakethenextavailableflightandgetinat2a.m.“Screwit，”hesaid.“I’mgoingtogohome,getagoodnight’ssleep,andgetupearlytomorrow.”HewouldgrabthefirstflightoutofNewark.UnitedFlight93.Tuesdaymorningfoundmeinthekitchen,fumblingwiththelidofthedoughnutbox,whenIheardmyfathersaysomethingabouttheWorldTradeCenter.IlookedinthelivingroomattheTV,andsawtheimageofthefirepokingthroughtheblackenedholesinthetower’ssilverskin.Thephonerang,andmydadsaidintoit,“Oh,thankGodit’syou.”Iranintothelivingroom.Heheldoutthephone,hisfacepale.“Jeremy,”hesaid.Igrabbedthephone.“Jer”Isaid.“Hi”hesaid.“Listen，therearesomebadmenontheplane.”“Whatdoyoumean?”“Thesethreeguystookovertheplane.Theyputontheseredheadbands.Theysaidtheyhadabomb.”Iwascryingnow.“Iloveyou,”hesaid.“Iloveyou,”Isaid.“onlyhavegoodthoughts”Iwasshakingandnauseated,butIalsoknewIcouldmakemyselfdowhateverwasnecessarytohelpJeremy.“Idon’tthinkI’mgoingtomakeitoutofhere,”hesaid.Andthen,“Idon’twanttodie.”Andhecursed.“You’renotgoingtodie,”Itoldhim.“Jer,putapictureofmeandEmmyinyourheadandonlyhavereallygoodthoughts.”“Yeah,”heanswered.“Don’tthinkaboutanythingbad,”Isaid.“You’vegottopromisemeyou’regoingtobehappy,”hesaid.“ForEmmytoknowhowmuchIloveher.Andthatwhateverdecisionsyoumakeinyourlife,nomatterwhat,I’llsupportyou.”Afterapause,Jeremysaidtome,“Apassengersaidthey’recrashingplanesintotheWorldTradeCenter.Isthattrue?”“Aretheygoingtoblowtheplaneuporaretheygoingtocrashitintosomething?”healmostscreamedatme.“They’renotgoingtotheWorldTradeCenter,”Isaid.“Becausethewholething’sonfire.”Hesaidthereweremaybe30or35passengers,herdedtotheback.Forsomereason,however,noonewasguardingthembackthere.“Whataboutthepilots?”Iaskedhim.“Hastherebeenanycommunication?”“No.Theseguysjuststoodupandyelledandranintothecockpit.Afterthat,wedidn’thearfromthepilots.”Justthen,wesawsomethingonTVaboutaplanecrashingintothePentagon,andIthought,thankGoditisn’tJeremy’splane.WhenItoldhimaboutthisnewattack,Jeremycursedagain.ThePentagonwasprobablythejoltthatmadehimseeclearlythathisfateandthatofhisfellowpassengersintherearoftheplanewerecompletelyintheirownhands.“Okay,I’mgoingtotakeavote,”hesaid.“There’sthreeotherguysasbigasmeandwe’rethinkingofattackingtheguywiththebomb.Whatdoyouthink?”“No,Ididn’tseeguns.Isawknives.”Hejoked,“Istillhavemybutterknifefrombreakfast.”Therewasapause,andthenhesaid,“IknowIcouldtaketheguywiththebomb.Doyouthinkit’sreallyabomb?”Idon’tthinkso.Ithinkthey’rebluffingyou.”“Okay,I’mgoingtodoit,”Jersaid“screamsinthebackground”“Ithinkyouneedtodoit,”Itoldhim.“You’restrong,you’rebrave,Iloveyou.”“Okay,I’mgoingtoputthephonedown,I’mgoingtoleaveithere,andI’mgoingtocomerightbacktoit,”Whenmyfatherputthephonetohisear,heheardnothingonthelinefortwoorthreeminutes.Thenheheardscreamsoffinthebackground.Andhethought,They’redoingit.Itwasboundtobenoisy.Perhapsaminuteandahalflater,therewasanothersetofscreams,muffled,likepeopleonarollercoaster.ThensilenceIsatonthelivingroomcouchandallmyenergyseemedtohavedesertedme.Afterawhile,Igotupandheadedforthekitchenandalmostcollidedwithmydad,whowascomingtheotherway.Hemusthavejusthungupthephone.Hewascrying.Hegavemeahug.Iwatchedhimcry,abitdumbfounded.Wait,youthinkhe’sdead?”Isaid.Hecouldn’tmanageanythingbuttocryharder.Imusthaveaskedthesamequestionfivetimes.Andthen,whenitfinallysankin,Icollapsedonthefloor。“searchingforJeremy”Overthenextmonths,IspentalotoftimesearchingforJeremy.OftenIheardhisvoiceinmyhead,comfortingmewhenmypainwasalmostunendurable.Ivisitedthecrashsite.IhungeredtoknowwhathadhappenedonFlight93andwhyJeremydied.NowIfindthatmyviewpointhaschanged.NotthatIdon’twanttoknowwhathappened.It’sjustthatI’msureIwillneverreallymakesenseofSeptember11.Didsomeonedeclarewaronusforaprinciple?Becausetheywerejealous?Toshowhowtoughtheywere?Didweinthiscountrysomehowoverstep,pushtoohard,treadonancientsensibilities?TheworldJeremyandIknewwasnevermorethantheroomswelivedin,afewpl