In 2001, I had returned to live in Salt Lake City, but I was at the opening of a large tech conference in Atlanta when the 9/11 attacks happened. My New York clients had just flown in on two flights prior to the killing flights. A hush came over the conference as we all watched in incredulous horror at televised images of the Twin Towers and the Pentagon being hit!
First shock, then panic set in. As everyone scrambled to contact loved ones, another primal, desperate need surfaced: the need to get home. People banded together, others swiftly moved solo to find transportation, some to the next state, others to locations across the nation. With no flights, and rental cars booked-up immediately, people frantically tried to secure limos, moving trucks, buses, trains, anything to try to get home.
Our company from out of state secured an old bus and some drivers to drive our personnel to the company’s base in Chicago. (It was a harrowing ride by itself because of a defective bus and untrained drivers.) Once in Chicago, we three women living in Salt Lake City were able to book a rental car and make the emotional memorable trip home.
My poem, “Trying to Get Home,” was written during that journey.. Along with the deep feelings of shock and grief, there was an overwhelming sense of unitedness that bound me to everyone I met on that nonstop road back home, whether driving along the highway, at truck stops, or cafes.
Recalling this journey always evokes that feeling. I would say it feels like love for fellow Americans. As we experience the political divisiveness of current election campaigns, I would be honored to share that feeling of being united and caring as a nation, especially on this historical day.
Jean Howard, Salt Lake City