The quake of a normally sturdy floor, a loud explosion, the flickering of lights ... those were the telltale signs that something was amiss, however, no one would know the full impact of those seemingly innocuous disturbances until several minutes later.
When I think about 9/11 survivors, I, perhaps like many, think about the first responders who ran in when others were running out. I think about the businessmen and -women, clothed for meetings, but looking like they were escaping an apocalyptic horror movie, draped in ash, and running with nowhere to go. I think about those who were lucky enough to escape the towers before they fell, and the police officers ushering people away as quickly as they could.
What I don’t think about is the ripple in the pool of survivors – those in the wake of the terror. Until now.
I had the honor of meeting retired U.S. Army Lieutenant Colonel Ryan Yantis and his wife on the twentieth anniversary of September 11. His wife happened to mention a book he had been a part of – 9/11 Survivors’ Stories: Midwest Memories.
As a person in the media and an avid book-lover, I sought it out, read the description, and ordered it. It sat for a week or two as I had other pressing reading to do, however, when I picked it up, I read it in two days’ time. Engaging, it was deftly curated with stories of people whose lives were shattered, but who picked up the pieces, some putting the slivers back with brazen wounds still exposed, but others with shards buried under scars neatly hidden beneath an expertly chosen wardrobe.
The stories are told in chronological order, detailing everything from the early morning building entry, to the deafening sounds of the plane hurtling into Tower One, to the crowded stairwells, the Pentagon, the travel agents who dealt with the aftermath and everything in between.
All the contributors were from or had close ties to the Midwest. As a lifelong Midwesterner, I never had associated 9/11 survivors with the Midwest, but their stories are as pertinent as those who lived in New York and Washington, D.C. They are survivors.
Don Bacso was a young tech-savvy employee at a Chicago-based company who found himself on floor 57 in 1WTC when he heard the thump and felt the unsettling swaying. His gut told him to leave. He tells of smoke-filled stairwells, and people helping others, and the difficulties he faced trying to call his wife. His co-workers tell similar stories, and many talk about how that day changed them and how they have used their experiences to make a positive impact in the world.
Nick Maviano manned a phone line in Chicago helping co-workers in New York like Don talk to their loved ones via conference call so they wouldn’t lose the connection. He listened as they shared tearful “I love yous,” and details of the situation continuously unfolding, remaining silent, but holding all of that emotion in his heart. He played a critical role that day … hundreds of miles away from the attack.
Damon Wilkinson's piece, raw with emotion, was straight from his journal the day after the attack. His recollections of watching the horror unfold is tactfully sandwiched between memories of people whose stories have had two decades to marinate – shrapnel carefully concealed under long-cared for and nearly unrecognizable scars. His story is told with gaping, untended wounds lying wide open. It is a jarring chapter that provides context for anyone doubting the heavy weight of that day on those who witnessed such incredible loss.
Ryan Yantis' excerpt offers rare insight into a different story. He found himself in the Pentagon that fateful day, a mere stone’s throw from the impact of Flight 77. A stalwart military man, even when chaos and questions loomed, he got things done – efficiently and with compassion. As a public affairs officer, he also led the communication between the Pentagon and the public, fielding calls, working amidst rubble, and leading a young intern through the rest of her time at the Pentagon. I confess to sometimes forgetting the magnitude of 9/11 at the Pentagon that day, and Ryan’s addition put it in the forefront.
Ryan also recounts a time when he spoke emotionally at an event and a Vietnam veteran approached him. The man suggested he may want to look into a support group. It is then that one sees that the trauma Ryan witnessed and his involvement are, perhaps, more painful than his story leads us to believe. I admire Ryan’s ability to share his experience with PTSD and the strength and courage it takes to actively seek support and work to heal. I admire the Vietnam veteran who saw the anguish that had been on this man’s shoulders and who sought him out to tell him it was OK.
This book demonstrates the breadth of human kindness, the depth of grief and suffering, and the restoration of joy from debilitating ashes. Vivid images of people helping strangers now come back to me – people bonding in a moment of terror and offering help when they, themselves, needed the same. So, perhaps my initial assessment was not wrong. All survivors found themselves covered in a thick layer of dust that, despite the many years, still leaves its residue buried beneath the cracks and crevices of life, rising to the surface in the most unexpected times.
Survivors need one another. They watched in agony as people fell in front of them. They stayed on the line. They saw the moments of impact. They are resilient -- together. But they also need us – they need us to not forget.
9/11 Survivors’ Stories: Midwest Memories does this. It is un-sensationalized, unsullied by media, untouched by Hollywood. It is the unfolding of one day, told by those who experienced it with a macro lens. But, despite the plethora of vignettes giving you a front-row seat to the horrific main event, you close the cover on the book knowing that, despite the great evil and despite the immeasurable loss, there is unspeakable goodness that even the darkest of days cannot dampen. These men and women are light. Having been gifted another day, they choose to live that one-more-day with gratitude and leave the world better for having tread here.
I’m beyond grateful that Ryan’s wife talked with me that day. I don’t know that I would have known this book existed without her willingness to share it. I walked away with a greater understanding of what it meant to have survived September 11, and, though I am a person who tries to remember that everyone is dealing with their own silent battles, this book compelled me to remember that there are much larger battles out there than I ever dreamed … looming just beneath the surface of those I walk with every day.
Be kind. Speak life. Never Forget.
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To learn more about September 11th and those who work to help those who survived, visit: American Pride, Inc.
To purchase the book, visit: 9/11 Survivors' Stories: Midwest Memories