“The Fine Print”, by Michael Schrader

THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL

(Written and posted 11 September 2009.)

Every generation has a defining moment, an event that those who witnessed it will always remember where they were and what they were doing when it happened. For my parents and other octogenarians, that defining moment occurred on December 7, 1941, the “Day That Will Live In Infamy”. For the older baby boomers, the quinquagenarians and sexagenarians, that defining moment occurred on November 22, 1963, “That Day In Dallas”.

When I was temporarily living with my brother in Arlington, Texas, in 1999, his neighbor came by and asked me what the defining moment of my generation was. I was a tricenarian at the time, and the two “defining moments” that I had experienced were the shooting of Ronald Reagan by John Hinckley in 1981 and the explosion of the space shuttle Challenger in 1986. I know that I was in a high school class when news came of Reagan, and I know that I was in my materials lab when the Challenger exploded (I called one of the grad students a liar when he told me, because he was a joker and I thought it was just another one of his jokes). But were these defining moments, like December 7, 1941 and November 22, 1963? No. Those dates will always be remembered; I honestly cannot tell you the date Reagan was shot nor the date Challenger exploded, and, quite honestly, I had to struggle to remember the year.

The tricenarians and quadragenarians now have a defining moment, one I wish we didn’t have at all – September 11, 2001, or “The Day The Earth Stood Still”. That day will always be burned in our collective consciousness. I remember that, for some odd reason, I turned the television on that morning. I remember seeing the video of the first plane crashing. I was glued to the set. I didn’t want to leave to go to Law School, but I did. It was the longest 25 minutes. I spent the whole drive on the phone with my wife, having her give me the play-by-play. I rushed into the Law School and into the lounge to watch the television. The usually bustling lounge was like a morgue; crowded with students, not a soul moved or spoke. When it was time for Civil Procedure, we all went into the lecture hall. There was no lecture. The three large television monitors in the room were tuned to the news. We all sat silently and watched as they showed the buildings fall, as they showed the destruction at the Pentagon, and the wreckage in Pennsylvania. Not a muscle twitched.

The Law School occupied the basement and first floor of a two story building in downtown Fort Worth. The IRS occupied the top floor. Because it was built to house the IRS, the building was designed to be a bomb shelter. Nonetheless, we received word that we had to evacuate the building. Rumors were flying that the terrorists were going to blow up all federal offices, and because the IRS occupied the second floor, that meant that our building was a target. I argued the case that since the basement of the building, where the classrooms were, was designed to be a bomb shelter, that it would be safer to stay in the basement than leave the building if the rumors were true. After all, it was built to be a bomb shelter!

What I saw when I stepped into the morning sunlight astounded me. Panic! Panic everywhere! They were trying to evacuate Fort Worth! How do you evacuate a city of half-a-million that is part of a metropolitan area of five million? Where will the people go? It’s just too many people! At that moment in time, logic didn’t matter. Everyone was trying to get out of the city, anyway they could. Several streets were closed for construction; that didn’t matter to the panicked masses, who drove down them anyway, with some getting stopped by the gaping holes in the road. The noise was incredible, and was in stark contrast to the silence of the Law School. People were screaming and crying hysterically; thousands of car horns were honking simultaneously. I have never witnessed such pandemonium, and hope to never witness such a spectacle again.

I decided that I would take my time, and wait for some of the chaos to subside before attempting to drive back home. After all, once the initial surprise had faded, I knew that our leaders would be on guard and wouldn’t let it happen again. I felt secure amongst the chaos.

The rest of that day, I noticed that the world was either in panic or chaos or in silence and tranquility. My house was under the flight path of not only DFW airport, but of three local general aviation airports as well. On a typical day, I could look in the sky and see a half-dozen airplanes at any time, so of them so low I could read the numbers on them. Not on this day. I looked up in the sky and saw – nothing. Nothing man-made, that is. Just birds and sky and sun and clouds. Not a single plane. Not a single noise. The silence was both creepy and refreshing. The skies stood still.

It wasn’t just the skies. My house backed out onto a busy street. No cars. No people. Nothing. The earth stood still.

I stayed home that day and night. I had gassed up the day before, and didn’t need groceries, so I just sat at home and did nothing, except spend time with my wife and kids, like it was my last night on the earth. We watched the news. Panic had gripped the world around us. They had reports of mile long gas lines, and stations charging $5 a gallon for gas., and people eager to pay that much. After all, would this be the last gas on earth? They had reports of supermarkets being picked clean. After all, would this be the last food on earth? They had reports of mosques being firebombed and looted? Was I witnessing the Apocalypse?

For those of us who experienced the horror of that day, we should never forgot what we saw, and we should try our hardest to ensure that it doesn’t happen again. While we don’t have any control over the terrorists, we do have control over the panic. We dishonor those who died when we engage in looting, extortion, and chaos. Those firefighters who went into those buildings knew that they wouldn’t be coming back out, but they coolly and calmly did their job, and saved lives in the meantime. They did not panic. It is the bravery of those who kept their heads who I think, more than anything, has kept us safe from more attacks. The whole purpose of terrorism is to create chaos and panic, to engender fear. When you show fear, they win; when you show no fear, they lose. These thugs know that the only way to beat us is through fear and intimidation, for when we show no fear, when we refuse to back down, when we refuse to cower in the corner and run and hide, we are unbeatable.

Back to “The Fine Print” Index