A Tuesday
9/11 – A Tuesday
First Posted on September 11, 2008
A Division Director for the City and County of Denver, on Tuesday morning, September 11, 2001. Arriving early for work, usually about 6:30 a.m., my radio turned to KHOW–digesting my daily dose of pabulum from Peter Boyles–answering emails, trudging through the drudgery of another Tuesday. Tuesday: a kind of dismal day of the week presaging better things to come simply with the churn of the hours toward hump day, Wednesday.
Don’t remember anything unusual about the morning. Not many distractions as I sat in my corner office on the sixth floor of the Min Yasui Building at 303 W. Colfax, the same building that, at that time, housed the Denver District Attorney’s Office and several city agencies. Across the hall from our offices, the County Court Probation office saw the comings and goings of those who’d found themselves ensconced within the “system,” those who’d found themselves at the mercy of judges and probation officers who, as the proverbial thorn in the side, imposed the rule of law upon their harried souls.
Having not turned off my radio after Boyle’s show ended, shortly before 11 a.m., the report came that a plane had crashed into the North Tower of the World Trade Center in New York City. The major event acknowledged, I continued working while directing a more intense concentration on the radio…waiting for more details on the NYC crash. I didn’t have long to wait.
A few minutes after 11 a.m., the report came that another plane had crashed into the World Trade Center South Tower. At that moment, my workday ended. I turned up the radio and listened for a moment. Shoving my chair from my desk, I headed out into my division’s work area. I stopped at several workstations and asked my crew if they had heard the news. By then, everyone in the division was leaning toward their radios, or huddled in another cubicle where the radio’s volume had been turned up.
Walked into our conference room to turn on the TV. The TV was already on, with a couple of my crew watching the unfolding drama. Most of them gradually made their way to the conference room where, shortly after 11:30 a.m., reports began to be broadcast that a third plane had hit the Pentagon. By then, County Court Probation employees had started to ease into our conference room to see what that Tuesday morning had become.
I was called back to my office from the conference room to take a call from the General Services manager. The message: It was likely that the Mayor would require 303 W. Colfax to be vacated. Fear that what was clearly an attack upon America might reach into the heartland, into Denver, and manifest itself as the destruction of our building was, at that time, not outside the realm of possibility.
Then, shortly after noon, a fourth plane crashed into a field in Pennsylvania. The call then came that the Mayor was closing down our building and that all employees had to vacate the premises.
I walked through our office area and told those not in the conference room to pack up and leave. I then walked to the conference room. I remember so clearly the immense silence in the room, except for the narrative coming from the television. My crew and the County Court employees were transfixed by the dark and dangerous story unfolding in living color before them. I remember their eyes: large, staring, their faces reflecting awe and disbelief that what they were seeing was actually happening. I told them that the Mayor had directed the building to be vacated. No one moved. No one turned to me. It was as if my voice had been silenced by the immensity of the spectacle they were experiencing. I repeated it, stepping to the TV and turning it off. Slowly, silently, each of them rose from their chairs or, already standing, turned from the TV and walked out of the room.
The following days would, of course, be consumed by reliving the events of that Tuesday morning.
For me, the sadness of that day, the resolve engendered by that day, and the strength of our American psyche would be poignantly played out at Madison Square Garden on October 20, 2001. The Concert for New York would begin with David Bowie seated cross-legged on the stage with nothing but a music/rhythm keyboard and performing “America.”
