When I think back to 911, most of that day started out very stressful for me. Little did I know it would multiply by mid morning.

I was 23 years old, it was September 11, 2001 and I was living in Boston. My supervisor had delegated clients to us. I was assigned some of the penitentiaries we were consulting to follow up on.

I have to say, I spent the night before tossing and turning. I was deeply concerned about going inside a prison. Although these meetings were being held in the administration buildings separate from the prison. I feared doing it while knowing it was safe.

So this is what happened to me that day.

I was on the road by 6 A.M. I listened to Howard Stern’s talk show on the radio as usual, as I drove for a couple of hours. I tried not to be overly concerned about going to prison. The client was significant though, and wouldn’t have been given the job unless I was qualified to do so.

As I approached the prison, I was still apprehensive and felt my heart in my throat as I spoke to the guard at the gate. I signed in and wrote down whom I was seeing and why.

He smiled as he pressed the button to close the big steel gate behind me. He gave me my clip-on pass and directed me to the administration building and the visitors parking space. Another steel gate was opened, allowing me to enter the huge penitentiary.

I remembered sliding my hand to the lock button of my car as I drove past the big house. A silly thing to do. There were at least twelve rows of parked cars with 50, if not more, in each row between me and “The Big House”. I really was feeling very small and vulnerable.

I turned into the lane where the meeting was to be held and was stopped by a jeep with two guards asking me if they could help me. I pointed to the building and assured them the guard at the gate had specifically instructed me where to park.

For some reason they turned the jeep around and followed me to the building. I was wondering if they escorted everyone like this, or because I was a woman visiting a maximum security prison. Whatever the reason, I appreciated it.

Once inside, I was greeted and shown to the waiting room. My appointment was minutes away - so I thought. I waited for over an hour and finally Lenora, the woman I was to meet, came out and apologized for my wait. The prison was in lockdown due to the terrorist attack, she said.

Again, she apologized and told me to reschedule an appointment. Telling me I should listen to the radio, “we have been attacked”. The prison would be locked down within five minutes and I would have to stay there until it was lifted.

I rushed to my car. Still in a state of shock, I turned on the ignition and drove to the guard shack to turn in my pass. This time the guard was more serious as he opened each of the gates for me.

I drove about a mile before pulling off to the side of the road into an emergency stop zone. Within only a few seconds of fumbling with the radio dial, I heard it.

The twin towers have been hit.

Tears filled my eyes as panic flooded my mind. How many people have lost their lives?

I was petrified that my family or friends had been hurt. I had no concept of time at that point. I couldn’t think. Would my parents would be in the city this early? Have my friends been harmed?

I remember sitting on the side of the highway but I don’t know for how long. I called my parents again. They were still at home watching it on TV in disbelief.

I started to drive. I was still in a state of shock. I had completely forgotten about the mandatory lockdowns as I was driving to the next appointment. Then it hit me to call my appointments and cancel them, then phone in to the office.

Our whole company was frightened. Many colleagues had gone home already. By the time I got back to Boston, it didn’t make any sense going into the office. So I went straight home.

I spent the afternoon with the TV remote in one hand a glass of wine in the other. I was flipping from channel to channel sitting on the couch. Many Americans remember September 11 like that. It was a lot to absorb. Our own planes being taken over by terrorists.

What we didn’t realize: that for several days to come, rescuers would be finding survivors and bodies in the wreckage. Risking their own lives - and unfortunately, many of the rescuers lost their lives in the process of helping others.

I can only speak for myself, but 911 was an eye opener for me. Ironically, living in Boston, flying out of Logan Airport was common. The terrorists hijacked the two planes they flew into the World Trade Center at Logan Airport. Being raised in New York City, the Twin Towers were part of my childhood. 

My first visit to Ground Zero was devastating to me, more than what I had seen on the news. It became an unsettling reality. Later I heard the last conversation from UA Flight 93, and how brave they all were to the end. United Airlines Flight 93 was the plane where the passengers fought back and drove the plane down in Pennsylvania.

I found myself in a mixture of emotions each time I had the radio or evening news on.

How could our great country be so vulnerable?

We are a nation that has overcome the odds. Yet we have this false illusion that we are invincible.

Had become too lax in our security, maybe? The New World isn’t indestructible.

As I write this I am crying, remembering the devastation I felt when I heard the events of 911. The people who lost their lives, and loved ones who lost mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers. They are not forgotten.

To all who lost loved ones on 911, my prayers are with you. To the great city of New York where I was raised, I love you.