http://www.time.com/time/video/player/0,32068,1139606821001_0,00.html
The following is the article in the TIME magazine.
Lyzbeth Glick Best
I was visiting my parents on Sept. 11. My husband was taking a routine business trip to California and our new baby was just 11 weeks old, so I went up to my parents’ house to get some help with the baby. It was a beautiful day. I was actually really excited having a day in the Catskills, in a place I love, with my baby, and I was thinking I would take her for a walk later. I sat down to nurse the baby, I turned on the television, and I saw a plane hit the World Trade Center. At first I thought it was just a commuter plane. A little while later, a girlfriend called and asked if I had been watching the news and did I know where Jeremy was, and I said, “He’s flying.”
A few minutes later, I saw the other plane hit the Trade Center, and I thought, this is a terrorist attack. This isn’t little commuter planes. But I still wasn’t worried. I figured those planes must have come from JFK. So I finished feeding the baby, and I went downstairs to go find some breakfast and coffee. Then — I guess it was 9:27, 9:28 — the phone rang. I was in the kitchen, and my parents were in the living room, which is down a long hallway. I heard my mother say, “Thank God, Jeremy, it’s you. We’ve been so worried.” I ran to the room, and she was — all the color had gone from her face, and she handed me the phone. He told me that his plane had been hijacked. At the same time he’s telling me this, I see everything unfolding on a big-screen television.
At first we both kind of went into a little bit of a panic, and then we just started saying “I love you” to each other. I don’t know if you can see into somebody’s soul at that minute, but we were so close, I think, just talking to each other, we brought calm and peace to each other. And then, besides, we both had a job to do. He was asking me information about what was happening in New York. It was clear to me that he and the other passengers were talking and were trying to assess the situation: Was this going to be a regular hijacking? I said no, I didn’t think it was. He asked me if planes had crashed into the World Trade Center, and I’m looking at the World Trade Center there, and in my mind I had a split second: Do I tell them the horror that I’m seeing? Is he going to panic? Then I figured he needed to know what was happening, and I said yes, two planes had already hit the Trade Center. And he asked me, did I think they were going to go into the Trade Center? I said, I don’t think so. There’s nothing really left — you know, where it could possibly go?
He told me that he didn’t think he was going to make it out of the plane, and I said, “Don’t be silly. Of course you’re going to make it. Be brave. Put a picture of me and Emmy — Emmy is our daughter, who was 11 weeks old — in your head and be brave. We’re going to get through this.” He said they were going to take a vote. Did I think it was a good idea for him to attack the hijackers? And I just started asking questions. I asked if they had any guns, and he said he didn’t see any guns, but they had a knife. My husband was a national judo champion, so he was very strong, both physically and mentally. I knew a knife would be no match for him, but I worried about a gun. Then I told him that I thought he needed to do it. He said he would be right back. I gave the phone to my father — I was too upset — and my father stayed on the phone for a long time afterward, after the phone had gone dead. A few days later, he told me he had heard a set of screams that sounded like they were doing it, and then he heard another set of screams that sounded like a roller coaster, and at that point the phone went dead.
The following days are a blur. I think that once I got through the first day — I remember my girlfriend telling me, “This is the hardest day. This is the first day. The next day will be a little bit easier.” And I’m looking at myself, who was in a beautiful spot in her life. I have a new baby, and I’ve got to make it O.K., because I didn’t want to bring her into a world filled with a sad mother and a father that wouldn’t be there. I did go to Shanksville about 10 days after the crash. It was a windy, rainy day, and I didn’t feel like he was in the field.
The first year, you’re trying to define a new normal, just getting through those first milestones with my daughter. Her first tooth, her first laugh, her first crawling, her first rolling over — all of those I did by myself. I had wonderful family and friends, but it’s not the same to not have your partner go through that with you. So I was very, very sad. But I didn’t sit in my house and look at the walls. I really worked hard on myself and how I was going to get through. I met with a counselor, and I had a group of 9/11 widows that I became very close with. There were probably 11 of us. We were all in our late 20s to early 30s. Some of them were pregnant on September 11, a few had small babies like me and some older children, and once a week, on Tuesday, we would meet with a grief counselor. I would bring my baby in the car seat and put her in the middle of the room. For an hour or an hour and a half, however long it was, we would just talk about certain things we were going through.
These women were my lifeline, because I never had to explain anything to them. My friends didn’t know that I was thinking about him and our last phone call 24/7. These women were feeling the exact same thing. So when it was time to clean up my husband’s closet, I asked them for advice: Had anybody else done it? Do you still keep your husband’s toothbrush next to the sink? How do you say goodbye to these material objects? During the first year, you don’t want to let go of any of them. I kept a glass that he had used, and I didn’t want to wash where he had drunk from it. These women really helped you to check in and realize that you weren’t going completely crazy.
My daughter is 10 years old now. In the early years, her father just was very — even though he wasn’t here physically — very present. We would share stories. I’m still very close with his family. He has five brothers and sisters. There’s a ton of family around, so there was always a story to share. At 4 she came home from nursery school and said, “A boy told me my dad’s plane hit a building,” and I said, “You know what? It wasn’t a building.” These conversations would usually take place while we were driving in a car somewhere, which was good, because she couldn’t see either my reaction or my face. It was hard to talk to her in the beginning. She had said, “I heard he had hit a building,” and I said, “No, his plane crashed into a field.” Then there was our first trip out to Shanksville together when she was about 4. I showed it to her, and that was it — you know, a 4-year-old isn’t that interested. We went to Hershey Park afterwards. That was really what she wanted to see.
I keep a journal for her now. When I miss Jeremy and I want him to see something that she’s doing, it’s kind of a way that I let my emotions out. This year she was in fourth grade, and they did a project at school called My Hero. It’s a global project: children learn about what a hero is, and then each of them chooses a hero. She chose Jeremy for that project. I kind of had to step back and let her take hold of it. So for her research, she interviewed old teachers that he had. I had written a book three years after Sept. 11, and I had never showed it to her. It contains a lot of the graphic material that I don’t feel is fitting for a 10-year-old. But I did share with her some of the chapters on that. I think that by doing this project, she learned more about the sadness of the day. For 10 years she had heard what a wonderful brother, husband, father he was, what a hero he was to the country. But now I think she was seeing some of the pain associated with the violence of the day.
I think to anyone who lost a loved one on Sept. 11, even 10 years later it’s still there. You turn on the news — I could be on the treadmill at the gym — and I see Sept. 11, I see Flight 93 and the field where my husband crashed, and emotions just overcome you. It’s not something you think you’ve put away. It comes back at times you don’t expect it.
I’m a very peaceful person. I don’t even agree with war. I don’t believe in the death penalty. But that’s my personal belief. I know many families do want more of a revenge. For me, I think judgment comes in another life from here. I do have some anger, but I really, over 10 years, have tried to let it go. My life now — it’s very joyous. I don’t think you ever get over the loss or the pain. Just the other day I’m thinking, “He’s really not coming back this time,” or not in this lifetime, and 10 years later, that’s still difficult for me to accept. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t found joy in my life. I think somewhere along the way I’ve learned to separate the pain from joy. I’m remarried to a wonderful man, and we have two beautiful children in addition to my older daughter. He has adopted my older daughter, so he’s been a father to her since she was 4 years old. Life has moved forward. I teach college. I’ve had that job for almost 15 years. And my family is what’s important to me.
TIME Beyond 9/11
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