I can hear the news anchors saying it is headed for us. It’s coming for the Capitol Building, and the only place to hide is under the bed.

It does something to your peace of mind for a while when you know how it feels to have a Boeing 757 aimed at you — loaded down with jet fuel, guided by murderous madmen, and traveling fast.

I didn’t know until much later that the phrase “Let’s roll!” was being uttered as I was trying to figure out if I should stay inside or go out and stand in the street. What difference would it all make if we were going to be hit?

To this day I can’t even begin to contemplate what could have happened had the brave Americans on Flight 93 not fought back that day. I seriously can not. I also can not help but remember and honor them in the same way I would honor a fallen soldier. Their bravery and actions stopped that plane, and they stopped it from coming toward me that day. No one will ever know the lives that were spared because of their actions. They defended me… they defended us!

It was 7 years ago and I was sitting in my office planning a very long and much anticipated business trip. I was, at that time, the National Program Administrator for one of the largest funding bodies of pediatric brain tumor research in the world. The week starting September 10, 2001 was Childhood Cancer Awareness week, and we had huge plans. Neither my boss or myself had a clue of the events that were to unfold during that business trip. So, as normal, a few weeks before the event I was confirming our reservations, mailing off the reams of printed media resources I would need to the hotel where we were staying, and making sure that I had enough suits, pantyhose, and other uncomfortable and stiff things to wear to the various events.

I can’t wait to see the hotel! It’s just yards from the Capitol Building! We definitely need to take some tours. This is only my third time being in D.C. and I have a lot of sights to see!

I remember the morning of September 11, 2001 very well. I woke up out of a groggy sleep. I have always been a very anxious flight passenger, so in order to deal with having a job that required me to fly all over the Country I would take a dose of Valium before my flights. I never took it for any other reason or at any other time, but it really took the edge off of my intense anxiety. I would book my flights so that I could just go to my hotel and crash for the night after my flight. I would wake up a little groggy, but after a cup of coffee and a shower the next day, I would be ready to go!

We flew into Washington DC on September 10 so that we could be at the Capitol for the kick off of the week’s events. On the morning of September 11, my boss and I woke up early, got ready and headed down to the Senator’s Lounge, which was the restaurant located in our hotel. We could see the Capitol Building from just outside the door.

We had a full agenda for the day. The major childhood cancer serving foundations and agencies across the Country had agreed to join together and announce a major cooperative coalition that would allow us to more adequately utilize our resources, gain a “gestalt” in our power and influence, and move closer toward our common goal of eradicating various types of childhood cancers. It was to be a grand morning! The good news proclamation of our concerted efforts would not happen though.

It happened over coffee. It happened over breakfast. It happened while we were putting all of the finishing details on the speech to be given on the steps of the Capitol that morning. We were sitting in the Lounge and enjoying our breakfast when the News Flash of the first plane hitting the first Tower came over the screen. We watched in horror as the big screen television played the clip over, and over again. I leaned over a little to whisper to my boss.

“I will never fly out of LaGuardia Airport for that very reason. They fly way too close to the buildings!”

Then the second plane hit. Everyone in the Lounge gasped. I watched it. I couldn’t believe what I was watching. It was intentional! I grabbed my boss’ hand.

“We shouldn’t even be here! We can’t go to the Capitol Building this morning! We need to leave here now!”

We both sat there, eyes glued to the television for what felt like hours, when we learned of what happened just across the way at the Pentagon.

The Pentagon? Of all of the buildings in the world! The Pentagon is impenetrable! It is filled with Military might! It is filled with the resources we count on to keep us secure! How can this be?

My heart sank. My knees grew weak. The chaos of that morning in our Nation’s Capital was profound. I saw well groomed, tightly tailored professionals falling to pieces. I held the hand of a stranger as she hyperventilated. I saw a prominent brain surgeon cry, and heard another doctor make plans to buy a brand new car on the spot if that is what it would take to get him out of there and back home. I was taking it all in, and everything kind of moved in slow motion. If I remember correctly at some point a fire truck was trying to make it through the street. He couldn’t. The traffic was grid locked and people were every where. He actually gently used his truck to push parked cars out of the way.

Did I just see that? I think I did. There are figures on the rooftops. They appeared there so quickly. Did I see that? Are they snipers or photographers? Both? Are they here to protect us, or to harm us? What should I do? Hide? Stand?

When I tell my story I have a hard time remembering what happened next and how the sequence goes. I just tell it as I recall it each time. It is all jumbled still to a degree. I remember when it all first happened I tried to call my family. I couldn’t get a line out on my cell phone. I needed to hear that they were safe and that nothing was happening where they were. I wanted to touch the faces of my children so badly that I ached. I finally got through to the Foundation, and they relayed messages from family to us, and vice versa.

I remember frantically calling around when we were able to finally get a line. We had a brain tumor survivor — a young girl, who was flying into D.C. that morning. She was going to give her testimony about her battle with brain cancer. We couldn’t find her and we had no idea if she were on any of those flights. Finally her mother got through to our Foundation. She had been delayed that morning. Her plane was still on the tarmac. She was still grounded from the delay. She was safe.

Thank God! What about our supporters who had offices in the Towers in NY? Did they lose their lives? Are they injured? Will we see them again?

It took days for us to find out if they were safe — yes they all made it. How they made it is beyond us all, but they did.

What next? What are they saying? They are telling us to go back to our rooms. Why? Another plane? It’s heading here? Will we see it hit? Will we feel it? Are we going to die?

My boss and I looked at one another, and quietly went back up to our hotel room. At this point the hotel was under some kind of lock down. The elevators would only take you to your floor and you had to have a valid room key to operate them. I don’t even think the stairwells were open at this point. Once we were back in our room we watched the news broadcasts. They were tracking the plane and the news was “It’s headed for DC and probably for the White House or the Capitol Building.”

Gee, you don’t say! Thanks. I wish I were ignorant of it all right now. What difference does it make if I know?

Then we heard the plane was down, and that there were no other planes in the sky. We also learned that D.C. was heavily protected and we could breathe a little easier. First we cheered, and then we felt sick. We knew what that meant. We were safe, but an entire plane of innocent Americans had just crashed and burned. I couldn’t stomach another moment of news.

We started to make calls to try and find a way out of there. No cabs left to hail. No rentals left to rent. No one can come in to get us because the inbound roads are all closed — and for how long we didn’t know at this point. We were stuck.

Could all of this be real? This had to be a bad dream! There is no way in hell that all of this just happened! I could not have lived a lifetime’s worth of terror in such a short morning. It’s all to surreal.

I don’t remember at what point we watched the Towers collapse. I just remember being in my room and sitting on the edge of my bed. My hand was placed over my mouth. I may have sat there for minutes. I may have sat there for hours. Who knows?

We actually went out to eat after a period of time. It was so weird.

How can I sit in a restaurant full of people and eat quiche when lunatic terrorists just flew a plane into the Pentagon just across the way from us? Wait, I remember seeing people jumping from burning buildings on TV. I can’t think about this. I can’t eat. Are we weird or just crazy to even sit down to eat right now?

It still feels weird even thinking about eating that day. Neither of us were hungry, but we just did what you are supposed to do at that time of the day. Maybe it was a means of holding onto our sanity, or maybe we both craved a little normalcy so that we could have a few moments to pretend that what was going on outside was a huge mistake.

It didn’t really happen did it? It did. There is no denying it. You saw the chaos, smelled the fuel burning and heard the sirens. It’s real.

We stayed in D.C. that night, but not of our own volition. We had no choice. I don’t remember the rest of that day, other than the phone calls we kept getting from colleagues, friends, family, and others wanting to know if we were OK. I remember that after supper we both decided that a bottle of wine and a piece of cheesecake was needed. We didn’t touch the cheesecake, but the wine didn’t stand a chance.

Finally when the next morning’s sun appeared it was time for us to get out of dodge! We found a limo company that had an available car. The driver came over from Maryland, picked us up and took us back over to a suburb of Baltimore. We had a Foundation related event planned for the weekend. I was not scheduled to stay for it, but how would I get home? No one would even guess at this point as to when the planes would be able to fly again, and to be honest, at that point in time they simply did not manufacture enough Valium for me to step foot on one! Regardless of the details on how I was going to make it back to Western North Carolina, I was glad to be away from DC.

At this point in my story I had not shed a tear yet. I am a very stubborn stoic. When things are falling in around me I refuse to cave — it isn’t until things get quiet that I fall apart. We made it to Maryland, checked into our hotel and ate lunch. I later went to a small strip mall and bought a couple of pairs of jeans. All I had was business attire and sleeping clothes. After that little excursion I went back up to my room. I had my own room this time. All alone and to myself. It was odd. I walked in, looked around and fell to my knees and cried.

Sweet relief! Finally a moment to collapse.

I pulled myself together, but I had no idea that these episodes of intense crying had only just started, and they were not to end for quite some time.

I met my boss and her husband, who came up to join us that afternoon, for supper. It was a nice, quiet and normal supper. I said my “good night” to them and headed back up to my room. I was getting situated for the night when an alarm went off outside my door and all of the power for the whole area went out. I hunkered down in a corner in my room. I waited for something to happen. I waited for the explosion that I knew was imminent. I waited. I cried. I waited some more.

Nothing. Silence. No light, no noise, just silence. Dear God, what now? Will I see my kids again?

I am still not sure what caused the power outage that night. The timing could not have been any worse. I know that I am not the only person who was hiding in a corner when that happened. We were all on edge and a little hyper-vigilant. The next day came and all of the hours spent on the phone begging my travel agent to do whatever he could to find me a vehicle was about to pay off. I even told him at one point that if all he could find was a huge moving truck to book it for me! I didn’t care. I’d had enough. I was going home. One way or another, I was going home to be with my kids! Fortunately for me he found a nice little car instead of huge truck. I picked it up, went over some maps and started my drive from Maryland to home in North Carolina.

When I started out on the trip I was fine, but as time went on I had waves of tears over come me. They often came with such power that I had to pull over or I would wreck. I would weep until I could stop for a while, and then drive until the next wave. My trip wound up taking a few hours more than it normally would due to the need to stop a lot. I do remember at one point when I saw a sign and scoffed.

“Speed monitored by aircraft!” Ha! Not today boys!

I will admit that I sped. I wanted to get as far away from it all as I could, and as quickly as that little car would take me! I just wanted to get home. When I finally reached home I was able to peek in on my boys. They were down for the night. I just stared at them. Man, were they a sight for sore eyes!

The next few months were filled with more tears, and some very vivid dreams of plane crashes. One dream in particular was very disturbing because as the plane was going down I could feel the force of the descent pushing me into my mattress. I could barely breath.

God! We are going down! I smell smoke! I can’t breathe! I can’t move! What’s happening?

I sat straight up from a dead sleep, covered in sweat and gasping for breath. I had never had a dream like that before.

I quit my job a few months later. I quit for several reasons. Being a single mom and trying to hold down a job of that magnitude was wearing me out. I wouldn’t meet Mr. Hooah! until later that year. The main reason I left, though, I just couldn’t take getting on another plane. It would mean a drastic cut in pay for me, and letting go of what seemed to be that once in a lifetime “dream job.” It all seemed pretty unimportant to me any more. It still does, and I do not regret that decision in the least.

I will never know how much the events of that week played into my son’s decision to join the Army and fight in the War on Terror. I know that there are a lot reasons he and my husband both had joined.

Supporting our troops is easy. I am grateful, as a witness to terrorism, for all that they do everyday to try and stop it at all costs. Everyday our troops gear themselves up, stand up to the enemy at hand and bravely say “Let’s Roll!”