Staff Reports
It long ago became shorthand for referring to one of the worst days in the country’s history.
The 11th day of the ninth month. Four simple syllables that evoke images now seared into our consciousness. Nine eleven.
We looked at the world differently after that day, and the world looked differently at us. We suddenly felt vulnerable. Our travel routines would be altered forever. Buildings everywhere would be “hardened.” An entirely new government bureaucracy would be born virtually overnight to protect us, sometimes at the expense of our civil liberties.
And, we waged our longest war, an effort so protracted that upwards of a quarter of Americans alive today weren’t yet born when it began, according to an analysis by The Associated Press.
The Daily Reporter for the past couple of weeks has been asking you to share your thoughts about that day 20 years ago when the trajectory of our lives was changed. Your memories are vivid; the impacts you described were profound and enduring. While it’s been 20 years, your stories are still riveting.
Student learns a lesson in resilience
In late August 2001, our family received a young woman named Ingrid from Handel, Holland, as a 10-month foreign-exchange student. She was looking forward to a senior year at Knightstown High School and the Larry and Mary Lou Hayes family as hosts.
Just one week after she arrived, she received a call from her mother that her best friend had been killed in a motor vehicle accident near her country home.
Ingrid, in grief, wanted to return to Holland but was told by the agency she would be unable to return to the U.S. as a foreign student.
Then, two weeks later, the 9/11 event occurred where our country was under attack! Ingrid’s mother and father called to beg that she return home immediately. I discussed the consequences and missed opportunities if she left at this time. Additionally, air travel had been decreased due to the attacks. Reassurance was given to her that our country was strong and any further attacks on the USA would be thwarted.
Ingrid learned so much about the resiliency of our country that year. When she returned to Holland, she was able to tell about Texas, Florida, Seattle, Chicago, Indianapolis, Washington, D.C., New York and Holland, Michigan. How the people of the USA are steadfast in our freedoms.
Mary Hayes
A newsroom quickly springs into action
I was working at WRTV (Channel 6) on the morning news. My shift started at 3 a.m., and I was an editor. I’m editing some cut-ins with Gant Haverstick for “Good Morning America.” Sometime just prior to 9 a.m., “GMA” showed a tower cam of the World Trade Center, and it was on fire. The camera shot was a long way off, so at first I couldn’t really tell how bad the fire was. The report was that a plane had hit the building. There were monitors of all three major networks on in the newsroom so could see what other stations are doing. Everybody in the newsroom was watching the monitors when the second plane hit. There was a gasp through the entire newsroom.
There is a plan for everything in a newsroom. No matter what happens, we are ready to cover anything that is going on. But on this day, nobody knew what to do. For what seemed forever we just kind of stood there. Seasoned reporters and producers frozen. Then, like an alarm going off, everybody sprang into action.
Quickly, Gant and I went to our edit bays and started recording every live feed that ABC was sending us. Not everything was getting on the air. Gant and I were seeing the raw panic of the people of New York. Every camera person, reporter or live truck operator in New York City was as close as they could get to the scene. I was seeing it all.
When the first tower fell and all that dust and debris billowed into the streets, people were running like something from a horror movie. The dust blotted out the camera optics at times. The most amazing thing: The police and firefighters and other first-responders ran into the cloud of debris and were carrying people out.
Gant and I were cutting stories into our editing program. But I’m not sure if any of it was ever used as we stayed with the network all morning as far as I remember. I wasn’t sure anything I was doing even mattered that day, but it was all I knew to do.
The morning continued and things got worse. It seemed to be just one horrible thing after the other. By 11:30 or maybe noon, we had loaded our trucks and gathered our best reporters and camera operators and engineers and WRTV 6 was heading east.
The spirits were low, but the professionalism was incredibly high. It was the worst day ever in the newsroom. Yet somehow we were at our best at the same time.
William McKenna
You can watch a video of William McKenna and David Hill, editor of the Daily Reporter, as they discuss how their newsrooms responded on 9/11: http://www.greenfieldreporter.com/2021/09/01/911-in-the-newsroom-a-look-back/
Keeping watch over uncertain skies
On the morning of Sept. 11, 2001, I sped to the 181st Air National Guard Command Post at 85 mph to oversee the operations of the Command Post. I had reported to my civilian workplace and saw on our television screens the first jet hit the first of the twin towers. My cellphone rang. It was my first sergeant telling me to get to the base ASAP and to be prepared for a long, long day working with the senior staff at my Air National Guard base.
Part of my duties was to provide fighter jets to guard the Sears Tower in Chicago and Air Force One. (We received credible threats to the Sears Tower.) I remember the eeriness of seeing the aircraft blips on our screens go from the thousands down to only six or seven within a few hours.
The National Command Authority had ordered the grounding of all airborne aircraft with the exception of Air Force One and fighter jets to protect it. I felt it was an honor to be a part of helping provide protection to President George W. Bush on Air Force One as he moved from one Air Force base to another and eventually back to Andrews Air Force Base.
I’ll never forget my rush to get to work quickly. I got my first sense of the patriotism that would sweep over the country when a stranger put his hand over the credit card swiper at a gas pump and told me it was his honor to pay for my gas. I never paid a dime for a restaurant meal for at least three months!
I never expected it to be this way, but it just happened that way. As it turned out, my duty shift lasted 38 straight hours with no sleep breaks. Sept. 14 was my first time to get some sleep. From a steady stream of classified messages from the Joint Chiefs of Staff to orders from the president, we kept constantly busy. My duty was to ensure these messages got passed on to my unit’s commander, who was responsible for the F-16 fighter jets.
The effects of 9/11 have lingered within my heart and soul to this day.
Paul Norton
Senior master sergeant, USAF, retired
In war that followed, a grievous loss
On Sept. 11, 2001, I was a rural mail carrier sorting my mail in the Marion Post Office preparing for the day’s delivery. Someone said a plane had flown into one of the twin towers in New York City. No, we said. That can’t be true. Then, someone said a second plane had hit the other tower. We didn’t believe it.
I don’t remember if we learned the horrible truth before leaving the post office or from the radio in the car.
Marine Lance Cpl. Lance Thompson rode my school bus and always sat behind me and talked when he was a little boy. He was killed in Afghanistan on Nov. 15, 2004.
Staff Sgt. Bradley King’s parents lived on my mail route. His aunt and uncle were some our best friends and lived down the road from us. He was killed in action in Iraq in early April 2007. The fire department had a giant flag stretched across the highway for his funeral when I drove out to start my mail route that day.
Pfc. David Austin Kirkpatrick was our only son. Always a good, quiet kid. Graduated mid-term in 2006 and by Jan. 15, 2006, he was off to basic and advanced infantry training at Fort Jackson, South Carolina. He turned 19 on Feb. 1, 2016. He was assigned to Fort Stewart, Georgia, before heading to Iraq in January 2007.
On Friday, April 27, 2007, at 10 p.m., two Army men and the Methodist preacher came walking up our sidewalk to tell us he had been killed in action in Fallujah. He is buried in the Matthews, Indiana, Cemetery near the covered bridge almost a mile down the road from the 45-acre farm where he and his four sisters were raised. Our lives will never by the same.
Kenny Alan Kirkpatrick
Fear and uncertainty in the workplace
On the morning of 9/11, I was working for the Defense Contract Management Agency, which was housed in temporary quarters at the old Fort Benjamin Harrison area during Building One’s renovations. Shortly before 9 a.m., someone reported a plane had hit a building in New York, and we all assumed it was an accident. I took a short break to check online with New York friends as Laura posted that she could see the twin towers from her window and that another plane had just hit the second building.
This was a deliberate attack.
One of my co-workers found a wire coat hanger to use as an antenna and tried to pick up a news station signal from our training room TV. That failed. We were left with nothing but radio and computer net-works and rules against accessing non-work-related sites during working hours.
I violated that rule.
When the plane hit the Pentagon, it was devastating. Not long afterward, our supervisors told us we were on administrative leave.
Go home. Buildings could be replaced. Lives couldn’t.
I was in charge of our local IT equipment, so I took took a few things with me in case the building wasn’t there tomorrow.
Linda Dunn
In moment of crisis, comfort in family
It was just another Tuesday. I was teaching sixth-grade English at Greenfield Middle School when I noticed from my south window many parents arriving to pick up children. I began to get a queasy feeling in my stomach. Something was wrong!
I soon learned that the world, as we knew it, was changing forever. Very little information was available; but what we did learn was unbelievably horrific. And so, just as I had done thirty-eight years before in 1963 after the assassination of John F. Kennedy when, as a seventh-grader in that very same building, I went home to sit in front of the TV with my family and watch the world crumble before our eyes. At the time, for me, the two events were eerily similar.
I called my family and asked them to come over as soon as they could. I felt a frantic need to gather us all safely together… to try to begin processing what was happening. I fixed the most comforting meal I could think of — Chicken and noodles, mashed potatoes and apple pie — and we spent the rest of the evening together in front of the TV, trying to process the horrible, frightening situation.
I will always be grateful to have had my family around me on 9/11. We certainly didn’t solve any problems that evening or even really understand the gravity of the situation, but it was a true blessing to simply be together.
Marciann Miller
Fulfilling her need to help others
I was 16 and a sophomore at Greenfield-Central High School, and I was taking a test. We had a break during testing, and as I was returning to my assigned classroom a fellow student came up to me and said, “Start praying! There has been a terrorist attack!” I didn’t even know what he meant by “a terrorist attack.” There had never been anything like that before, and that term was so foreign to me. The only thought that raced through my head was the Columbine shooting, and I truly thought there was a shooter in our school! I could not take my eyes off the door to my classroom, thinking, Why in the world are we taking this test right now?!
I was in Mr. Stryzinski’s classroom, and I walked to his desk and whisper, “What’s a terrorist attack, and what is happening outside?!”
He put his hand on my arm and said, “We are safe right now, and we will talk about it when everyone is done testing.”
All I heard was: We were safe for now.
The rest of the day, all we did was watch coverage and talk about it. I remember seeing first-responders running into the dust clouds and disappearing…. Never even knowing if they would come out alive again.
I became a live-television producer, and I worked for CBS and Fox59, but the urge to help people was never fulfilled. So I became a registered nurse, and now in a world that once again feels uncertain, I can be one of those who puts on her mask and PPE and runs toward the chaos to help those in need.
Ashley Morelock Reuter
NYC 9/11
The towers have fallen,
Seeds cast
Into nothingness
From consecrated ash
A dreadful blossom blooms
Over lower Manhattan.
Hundreds of miles away
In my car
I flee work, seek home,
Pass stations, that within hours, have hiked the price
Of a gallon of gas.
Clumps of trees still high summer green
Soak in what light is left.
It all seems the same.
Stopped at a signal,
Before me, a monarch butterfly, its wings failing.
As if made of paper
Dangled listlessly from a string
By a distracted child,
It tries to ascend heavenward
Into an inscrutable sky.
John Schaefer
Watching in fear, confusion and horror
I was a freshman at Greenfield-Central High School in a series of study halls as the upperclassmen took tests. We watched in confusion and horror as images flashed on the classroom TV from the twin towers, the Pentagon, and the field where United Airlines Flight 93 crashed. I remember being unnerved by the thrum of news helicopters’ rotors, because the news had no backing music on hand for the worst terrorist attack on U.S. soil. It felt surreal. Unsettled, my best friend and I walked to my grandparents’ house after school. We were afraid it wasn’t over. We didn’t want to be alone.
Rorye Hatcher
A surreal sensation then and now
I had just gotten to my office at 103rd and Meridian when my husband called and said a plane hit the World Trade Center. Thinking it was probably a small Cessna or some such, I tried to access a news website. I very briefly saw an image of the burning tower, then the website crashed. So I turned on the radio and listened to Peter Jennings all day. When I called my dad later in the morning and told him to turn on the TV, he did and said they were reporting on a fire at the Pentagon. My response was, “No, not the Pentagon, the World Trade Center!” Then Peter Jennings announced the crash at the Pentagon. I spent the rest of the day in my office, listening to the radio and hearing a few hushed words of my co-workers. On the drive home, my husband and I noticed a jet trail in the sky and realized that the only jet that could have left that trail was Air Force One. We spent the rest of the evening glued to the TV in shock (we hadn’t seen any pictures or video except for that brief image in the morning). It felt surreal then and sometimes still does. But watching the videos from that day brings back all the horror and fear as if it’s happening all over again.
Cheryl Lenser
On fateful day, routines changed forever
The teachers’ meeting ended abruptly. Someone came in and said that a plane had just run into the World Trade Center. We ended the meeting and turned on the TV in the library. The picture we saw is now burned into my brain — the tall tower in New York City leaking thick, black smoke. I was watching when the second plane crashed into the other tower. The TV screen cut to a wide-angle view of Washington D.C., where I had just been on vacation that summer. The news guys were reporting on some kind of fire at the Pentagon.
I don’t believe I was really frightened until I heard that the president was en route to his underground bunker — a place where he could be protected from any and all harm. THAT frightened me, and I shook a little. All I wanted to do was to go home and gather my family around me so I would know that we were safe and at home where we belonged.
I e-mailed back and forth with my husband all day, and we agreed to pick up the children from school and day care and go to the church. We would feel safe there and join with others who were just as afraid as we. As I turned down Mitthoeffer Road, I passed groups of children waving flags and holding up signs that said, “God Bless America.” That’s when I cried.
We couldn’t get to our church. It was on the other side of the interstate exit and entailed navigating an intersection with gas stations on three of its corners. People feared a gas shortage; traffic was backed up for half a mile with cars trying to fill up. In the end, we went home and watched TV through the night, and saw over and over again, the planes flying in and the towers collapsing. I saw the Pentagon on fire, and the huge crater in the ground that became a symbol of those brave, brave people on Flight 93.
Now, when I think of 9/11, I think of the terrible blow to our country, and I think of all the human suffering for which 9/11 was only the first day. I think of the 63 children never picked up after school by parents who worked in the towers. I think of Lisa Beamer, whose husband was one of the heroes of Flight 93. I think of the hundreds of funerals for police and firemen, who were on their way up, when the towers came down.
9/11 left its impact on my family. For one, the TV news came on in our house that day, and it’s never really gone off. It’s on in at least one room almost all the time — as if to say, you won’t catch THIS family asleep at the switch. We will know what’s going on out there. And second, from that day to today, no one in our house leaves without a kiss and an ‘I love you’ as a talisman, a protection against an unknown day ahead.
Christine Schaefer
Chronicles kept, along with memories
It was a crisp, beautiful, blue-sky day as I was driving into work at the Indiana State Museum (in 2001, this would be the old Indianapolis City Hall). I had an all-staff meeting at 9 a.m. Right before I got to the parking lot and walked into the building, I heard a brief radio report from WIBC that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. Unfortunately, the info was so fresh that there weren’t many details. I went inside to join the rest of the staff, never suspecting how that day would turn out.
We were probably 20 to 30 minutes into the meeting when the doors flew open to the auditorium, and our curator of cultural history walked into the room and exclaimed, “Do you people have any idea what is going on? We are under attack! The World Trade Center towers have both been hit, and there may be more planes! It’s terrorists!” I will never forget the gasps and the looks of worry on the faces of my co-workers.
Looking back, I find it quite ironic that the cultural history curator delivered that news — as this was certainly cultural history. We immediately disbanded the meeting, and we all went upstairs to the rotunda where a large TV on a rolling cart was brought down, and we all watched in horror on that awful day.
Later on that day — my small group of education staff members all went down to the Delaware News Stand, and each of us bought the special-edition newspapers that they had. The Indianapolis Star had already published a special edition — on top of their normal paper. This business traditionally carried other city papers, including one from Chicago and New York — so we were back down there every few days — buying newspapers. These are the papers you keep — like the assassination of JFK and the end of World War II. Since then, I have quite the collection of magazines, newspapers, books and other 9/11 memorabilia. Always the historian!
Brigette Cook Jones
In online community, many questions
I was a brand new school librarian on Sept. 11, 2001. The events of the day were so shocking; having limited access to news during school made things even more bewildering.
I think back to one of my connections to the outside world that day, a librarian listserv. There were so many questions:
Do you have your TVs on? Have you told the students anything? People reported parents showing up at school to take their children home.
Even at my own school, there were debates. Some teachers said, “Why do you have your TV on?” Or “Why don’t you have your TV on?”
Some listserv members from around the world told of email as their only outlet for news. Some mentioned wanting to give students background information before they went home, maybe alone. Some later told of students who knew what happened getting on the bus with others who didn’t know.
Occasionally, I have gone back and read the archived listserv posts from 9/11 to appreciate that community. Our daughter and son-in-law can see the new tower from their window in New York City; we plan to visit, hoping in some way we can honor the victims and first-responders.
Susie Highley
In crowded room, only stunned silence
The morning dawned so beautiful with such a vivid blue sky. My kids were at Greenfield-Central High School. I was at Lilly in Greenfield, and my husband was at work in Indianapolis.
Toxicology management was preparing for their weekly management staff meeting when a director walked into our office at about 8:50 a.m. and said that he just heard on the radio that a small plane had flown into one of the World Trade Center buildings. As we tried to access the internet, we began to understand the enormity of the horrible situation.
The large-screen TV in the Seminar Room was turned on to the national news, and it was unbelievable to stand in the packed room with my Tox colleagues and watch live on TV as a second commercial jet crashed into the South Tower and then, 50 minutes later, watch with horror as the building crumbled to the ground. There was hardly any noise in the room as we were all transfixed by what was happening, yet you could hear sniffling and crying. As most everyone felt, I had that frightening feeling about being separated from my family and the safety of my country.
Arlene Adkins
Happy and sad anniversaries coincide
When I walked into the Daily Reporter newsroom early that morning, there was a cluster of people facing the TV. That’s when I first learned about the World Trade Center.
Later in the morning, before our deadline, someone from church called and said there’d be a prayer service that night. I added that to the front-page briefs.
Later we heard about the Pentagon. I wondered what else might happen that day.
I was engaged to sports writer Andrew Smith; we were scheduled to be married in about five weeks. It was strange, on the brink of great personal happiness, to be surrounded by so much sadness. A colleague chuckled that if an anthrax-laced envelope landed at the office in the days before the wedding, what would that do to our plans?
We packed extra documentation for our honeymoon in Canada and answered all kinds of extra questions when it was time to cross the border back into the United States.
All these years later, we have cause to celebrate: 20 years of marriage. But, understandably, people are reflective and somber again.
Anne Smith
A family answers the call to service
I was at home with a 2-year-old and an almost-3-month-old. Turned on the TV and was in shock. That is the day the world stopped. I drove to my parents and met up with the rest of my family. That is the day my brother said he was joining the Army to answer the call. The next day, America was united, and American flags started waving everywhere. I swore that day I would never forget and taught all three of my children all about the events of that day.
That little 3-month-old 18 years later started basic training on Sept. 11, 2019, and followed in his uncle’s footsteps and is serving proudly in the United States Army.
Jean Hauck
Frequent reminders of the tragic toll
I was sitting at my computer at Naval Air Station Pensacola when I noticed chatter in the office and everyone heading for the door. I followed the crowd and we ended up in the training center on the third floor where the TVs where located and saw the second plane hit. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. As news broke that it looked like another plane was heading for the D.C. area with potential targets as the White House or Pentagon, that’s when I headed back to my office. I was a civilian working in the payroll office that paid White House and Department of Defense civilian employees. I knew there would be casualty payments to process if a plane hit either building. Unfortunately, I pulled death claim paperwork off my director’s fax machine for many days thereafter. I’ll never forget
Kellie Fisher Brown
Seeking refuge, holding family close
It was such a beautiful September morning. Birds chirping. Sunshine. I was sitting at the kitchen table looking out the window.
At the time, I was thinking how could it be so peaceful in such a troubled world. Then I heard it on the radio when I headed to go volunteer. As I arrived at the place I was going, I made it in time to see the second tower fall. Not knowing what was going on, I went and signed my son out of school, went home and stayed in a couple of days watching old TV shows. No violence, no cussing, just good old shows like Andy Griffith, etc.
I held my loved ones close. I still can’t imagine all the chaos and all the lives lost that day. The worse tragedy I have ever seen. Thank you to all the police and firemen for all that you do. Thank you to all the servicemen and woman who sacrifice their lives every day so we can be free. It is much appreciated. God bless the USA.
Kim Hinkle
Special date took on new meaning
This was the day of our 19th wedding anniversary. We were married on September 11, 1982. We had made plans to meet after work for a celebration. Since it was a Tuesday, we agreed to meet here in Greenfield at Applebees for drinks and dinner. We arrived after work and sat in the bar area. Obviously, we were in a very somber mood due to the events of the day. All the televisions in the bar area were continually showing the twin towers, the planes hitting the towers and the Pentagon, the buildings collapsing, and all the stories from the day. After about 15 minutes, we both looked at each other and decided we would much rather be at home with our two boys. Since then, it has been tough to celebrate our wedding anniversary on this date. We do celebrate by taking a special trip or dining at a special place as it is still a very special day for us. But 9/11 took on a whole different meaning that day and still does today. Every year, we tend to watch all the news shows around the 9/11 attack. We will forever remember that fateful day.
Steve and Diana Foreman
Vivid memory from a grim day
On 9/11, I was 6 years old and getting ready for school at New Palestine Elementary. My most vivid memory was trying to buckle my new Mary Jane shoes and continually asking my mom to help me while she and my dad watched a small TV we had hung up in the corner of our bonus room. We saw the second plane hit on live coverage. Mom was terrified to send my younger brother and me to school that day, but she did.
Sydney Webb
