The 9th anniversary of the hell that unfolded on 9/11/2001 pulled me into a blog that I didn’t expect to write.
Mike Morley was sharing my house in Tampa…and Jim and I were planning a trip to New Orleans on the 14th of September for the NBAA Convention.
Mike and I worked together, and on some occasions we would commute to work together. The morning of September 11th dawned and we headed to our
St. Petersburg Campus for a day of student meetings. The same morning was the charity golf tournament for the Mac Dill AFB Education Council of which I was a Director. I was not golfing in that tournament, but my boss and good friend Steve Flatt was.
The day dawned clear. Mike and I hopped in the old Chevy truck to commute to Feather Sound. I didn’t call Jim because I’d spoken to him late the night of the 10th when he had picked up our clients, the DeBeers, from JFK. It had been a tentative flight because a late storm had rolled up the coast and he elected to fly VFR (visual flight) versus IFR (instrument)…he wanted to get home and he knew if they were grounded for the storm it would be an overnight stay fighting the early air traffic the next morning. As luck would have it, the controllers let him take off VFR as the storm chased them down the runway. He managed to stay out of the storm and arrived safely in Charlottesville well after midnight.
So, Mike and I were chugging away across the bridge to St. Petersburg on the morning of September 11th when the news cut in on the radio and began to broadcast the unfolding events of the twin towers. Suddenly, time slowed, traffic began to crawl, and the words on the radio sounded slurred. Mike and I were sputtering and trying to call anyone and everyone. We were stuck in traffic on the bridge…to this day I don’t know if it was rush hour or the shock of the nation. One thing we agreed on was that we needed a TV. We took the first exit off the bridge and headed to Kmart. We rushed inside to stand several bodies deep and watched in horror as the events at the World Trade Center unfolded.
Mac Dill was on immediate lock-down. Our golf tournament slated to begin at 9:am was cancelled and all civilians were turned away at the gate and the civvies that were already on base were hustled off in a pretty unceremonious manner. Mac Dill was command central…CentCom and SoCom, and to this day the golf tournament for the MEC is still held off base and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan are sill managed from there.
I purchased a TV and we raced to the truck to get to the campus. I’m glad that we did because with that TV we were able to huddle with our co-workers and stare in rapt attention as the news reports flickered back and forth in rapid fire from sight to sight to sight. I was calling Jim and finally woke him and alerted him to the unfolding hell. Thank God our plane was home…little did we know then what was to happen to general aviation.
I was no different than any other American. I was sick to my stomach. I watched the towers fall time and time again, over and over until I was so sick I could no longer watch. The images were seared in my mind. Somehow, I thought if I watched long enough it would reverse and there would be some sort of awakening and I would realize it was a dream, but it wasn’t. It was a nightmare neither I, nor the rest of the world could awaken from.
The home where I now live in Alexandria is less than two miles from the Pentagon. The impact at the Pentagon knocked pictures off of shelves and made neighbors look up in surprise at the sound of the impact. Several went about their business not realizing what had happened. My dear neighbor, Mary Frances headed to the local mall with a niece only to be turned away less than 10 miles from the house and then spent two full hours trying to wend their way home (I was in Tampa, but these are stories shared with me and Jim the week following 9/11 when we traveled to Alexandria).
I was supposed to fly to New Orleans on the 14th to meet Jim for the NBAA convention. Needless to say, that event was cancelled because of the flight restrictions and no planes could fly in for the static event. Instead, I packed the car to drive to the farm. It was a strange eerie drive north. The skies were typical fall skies, clear and bright blue with few clouds. No vapor trails crossed the skies, which was the eeriest sight of all; it was me and a few 18-wheelers on I95 north. I have NEVER seen the road so deserted.
I was on the phone with Jim constantly, and yes I was uncomfortable, but I wanted to see Jim and feel some comfort with him. So, I headed north…I was compelled to get to Jim. I believe we all hugged our loved ones a little tighter and found our phone lines ringing more frequently than ever during the days following 9.11. I needed a Jimmy hug.
I got to the farm in record time. That first hug from Jim was the best hug I ever had. I never wanted to let go. We were getting married in November, but I was feeling unsettled, so much so that we discussed getting married while I was at the farm. Hell, no one had any idea what was going to happen and we laughed that it would suck to have gotten that far and not be married…no we weren’t doom and gloomers, but think about it. Go back in time and sit for a moment with your emotions of the time. Were you not unsettled, wondering if another “shoe would drop”? Vacations were being cancelled and folks were afraid to take to the air. It was scary.
We discussed getting married for several days. Jim didn’t want to get married in Madison or Charlottesville because he knew the “noseys” would see the nuptials in the paper. I was concerned that we had a wedding planned in November and friends were traveling in and it would be unfair to them. We continued to discuss getting married and I don’t know what the tipping point was, but we decided to move forward. We got dolled up and went to Harrisonburg, VA to the Court House. Jim figured no one we knew in the ‘holler’ would be reading the wedding announcements from Harrisonburg.
So, let me paint this picture: Me and Jim looking like Jim and me showed up at the courthouse. I was wearing a lovely peach print sarong skirt with a sleeveless silk top and Jim was in kaki colored silk slacks with a tan silk tweedish jacket. He was beautiful. Waiting in line with us was a 19-year-old girl with black jeans and black high top Reeboks, a T-shirt with some random message ending in a hand with the middle finger extended and her chapeau for the event was a camouflage ball cap. I suppose I missed that outfit at David’s bridal wear. Her groom was a gent in his 50’s, tall and lanky and I believe he sported 2 teeth. I do not believe he or his hair had seen soap and water in months. Quite the contrast.
The clerk who asked why they were there was rather cranky with them and told them to take a seat and someone would be with them. She collected their $25, got their names and summarily dismissed them. She turned to Jim and me and asked why we were there and we too told her we were there to get married.
I suppose she could see the joy Jim and I emitted and she got all doey eyed and preceded to complete our paperwork for us. She asked us to have a seat and ushered us into the Clerk of the Court’s office and said she’d be back shortly. She left and a few minutes later the Clerk appeared. He was a lovely man and sat chatting with us and getting to know us, he said he wanted to perform our ceremony and asked if we’d like to be married under the garden copula outside. We were delighted and off we went to the copula. It was vintage, on the corner of the main street, and across from the hardware store.
I used Jim’s Masonic ring as his wedding ring and Jim gave me a small diamond ring of his mothers. The event took less than five minutes but it was the most precious time of my life. I was finally’ Jim’s wife. September 21st, 2001, 10 days after the world stood still, my world stood still again. Of course, with all things Judi, my stomach was in a twist. I had the worries of a wedding in November that would be a farce and what if our friends found out. Jim and I pinky swore that we would keep our September marriage between the two of us.
Until today, I have. Jim did share this story with my dearest friend Nancy. He told me he did. I was not angry and he thought he had done the right thing. To this moment, Nancy has never asked me or acknowledged that she knows. I have never discussed it with her, on Wednesday I will. It is our girl’s night together. We will finally talk about it. It is time.
So, I have again outed myself. Does it matter? Probably not. Too much time has passed and the friends and family that love us will get it and shake their heads and know that they shouldn’t be surprised with this revelation. The magic that is/was the love of Judi and Jim at times pulled everyone into our galaxy. Our galaxy friends get it. They will hopefully get a kick out of this blog and give Jim a high five for the actions we took that day.
One of my fondest memories is Jim smiling his crooked smile and whispering in my ear that he loved me enough to marry me twice. I have never been so complimented.
So, as we sit and reflect on the events of 9 years ago, reflect as well on the threads that stitched moments into our lives and stitched families and friends together. We all talk about where we were when we first heard the news on 9.11, much like hearing the news of the assassination of John F. Kennedy. Tragedies make indelible marks on our souls.
Will Paul and the Bride painted their door to resemble an American flag, and Jim married me for the first time, but not for the last.
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