"A Terrible Day for Our Country"

Sao Paulo, Brazil

September 11, 2001

The phone rang. My boss, Brian Rodkey, was on the line.

“Are you watching the news?” 

“No. Why?”

“You should turn it on. We may be here a while.”

After an overnight flight from Atlanta, I arrived here early this morning. I reserved the day room for a quick nap and a shower. From the clothes I wore on the plane, I changed into my suit (the only clothes I packed), and began final preparations for our afternoon session with TAM Airways. 

After a few hours reviewing terms of a potential codeshare partnership, we would return to the airport for the overnight flight home. When I turned on the TV, I agreed with my boss that those plans had changed.

Actually, it took me a few minutes to agree. Initially, based on what I saw, I was relieved. 

Brian told me that planes flew into the Twin Towers, and that both buildings had come down. I started watching just before noon. Smoke was pouring from one building, but the other looked fine. Maybe Brian had misunderstood.

Within a few minutes, a plane slammed into the second tower. 

My heart sank as I realized I was watching earlier footage. Then, the live shots confirmed what Brian told me. The buildings were gone, and black smoke billowed from the gaping wound in Lower Manhattan. I then heard that a third plane hit the Pentagon, and a fourth was presumed missing. Were there more? No one seemed to know.

I immediately called Rita. Knowing I had been on a plane, she was concerned till she heard the doomed flights had departed this morning, not last night, and none of them from Atlanta. But she was not completely relieved till she heard my voice and knew I was fine. She and Alexander are as well. I only wish I were with them, or had some idea when I will be.

I then called my parents, who are spending the month atop a mountain in Lake Toxaway, NC. They were unaware I was in Brazil, but pleased to know I am safe. Like all of us, they were horrified, and stunned. As Jerry put it, “This is a terrible day for our country.” It was an obvious thing to say, but eminently appropriate. He said it a few times, as much to himself as to me. More likely, he was saying it to no one in particular. And to everyone in general.

After my calls, I met the other five members of our group in the lobby. We debated canceling our meeting. We called our counterparts at TAM, who understood if we wanted to postpone. Since we had already made the trip and prepared our presentation, we decided to proceed. Besides, what else did we have to do? 

Two of our party, Aylin Oszoy and Amy Martin, work in our Network Department and contacted their Director, John Wickson, in Atlanta. He affirmed that all Delta planes had been accounted for, but all flights were grounded. No one had any idea when, where, or how they would resume.

The other two members of our team, Kristi Holtrop and John Woodin (not the coach, tho’ their physical resemblance is about as close as the spelling of their names), represent our Alliances team. They kicked off the meeting, which quickly devolved into a discussion of the morning’s atrocities. 

The TAM contingent sensed our transparent distraction and clear concern, and could not have been nicer. They offered us a flight tomorrow morning from Sao Paolo to Rio, knowing that if we must be stuck in Brazil, we may as well be stuck there. 

Of course, they also told us of more recent “news”, which didn’t help. Bombs, they heard, were expected to explode at five o’clock this afternoon in random locations across numerous American cities. Rumors of additional attacks were rampant. We all agreed a new codeshare agreement could wait.

After speaking again with John Wickson in Atlanta, we learned one of our planes was already in Rio, so we can fly home from there without having to await incoming aircraft that might never arrive. Assuming, of course, that a backlog of stranded revenue passengers doesn’t keep us from getting on the plane. 

We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, while still having no idea when that might be. We finished our meeting, returned from the TAM office, and extended our stay at the hotel. We wandered out for a subdued dinner at a nearby restaurant. Afterward, we retreated to our rooms without really believing this day happened – and wishing it hadn’t.

After checking whether water really swirls the opposite direction down southern hemisphere drains, I called Rita to let her know my plans, and simply to hear her voice. 

I had hoped to hear Alexander’s, but he is enjoying the bliss of a good night sleep. I don’t think I am going to be able to.

JD