25 years ago, radical terrorists tried to take away our freedoms, filling us with nothing but fear when they hijacked four planes on a crisp Tuesday, September morning. Two of those planes as we known crashed into the World Trade Center; another was driven right into the Pentagon, and, thanks to the heroics of the passengers aboard United Flight 93, the last plane wound up crashing into a field in Pennsylvania.
2,977 people were killed.
I shake with sadness and anger because it's just too horrifying to think about, let alone type into words.
September 11 changed everything in our Nation and around the world. Not only did radical Islamic terrorists try to take away our freedom, they declared war on it, and led us down a path toward seemingly never ending wars in Afghanistan and later, Iraq.
Moreover our way of life changed forever. Security checkpoints at airports changed; even security at big social gatherings like stadiums and concert halls required (at the time, and still do) bag checks. That just scratches the surface.
I was 16-years old on September 11, 2001, a sophomore in high school, and I remember that day as if it were yesterday.
I was in a computer class, because at that time in my life, I was of those kids who was a one-finger-at-a-time typer. That class helped me rebuild my skills, but on that Tuesday morning, one of our high school history teachers, better known for being a jokester, came running into the room.
"Hurry turn on your televisions, we are under attack. They hit the World Trade Center."
"What!?" our computer teacher said out load. I remember distinctly looking at the girl to my right in shock.
The television, which -- in case you do not know what technology was like in 2001 -- was strapped down to giant rolling stand, rolled into the room and plugged into the wall. There were no flat screens back then. Some rooms were self equipped with those big ole boxy sets tied tightly to the ceiling. That's the way it was back then. Alas, the TV went on to one of the news stations and we all saw it.
The World Trade Center was on fire, both buildings, as the second plane had already hit. We all know what came next: the buildings themselves collapsed from the heat that melted the steel structure that couldn't support the weight any longer. Anyone left inside was incinerated.
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Derek Jeter hugs kin of those lost on 9-11.
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Clouds of smoke, dust and asbestos filled the air in downtown Manhattan that late morning and afternoon as people scurried out of the way. Workers from all over the city were trying to get out. Some were leaving on foot to cross over the bridges like the G.W.B, or made their way hiking through the tunnels.
Everyone has their own story of how they dealt with that day.
In the years since whenever I would pass through North Arlington in Hudson County, especially when I was a beat reporter with the Jersey Journal, I would pass by this open fenced area where you can see straight across to lower Manhattan where the towers were. What a horrifying site that must have been for those residents.
Back in our school on that horrible day in 2001, I remember being in the lunch room shortly after that computer class. The principal was making announcements that we were all to be dismissed early. You could hear kids screaming, some crying, in fact I remember one of our assistant principals had to hold one young girl in his arms to comfort her. Others didn't know how to react; others wanted to get the terrorists that did this.
There were all kinds of emotions coming out. Anger and fear were the most prominent. I remember when I got off the bus that afternoon, looking up into the sky, wondering what else would happen. Was I safe? Were we all safe?
And that's how we lived basically for days, weeks and months ahead. We lived in fear. We looked around. We were always on the alert. We looked to the sky fearing what would come down. We crawled back into New York in fear of what would happen.
I remember the ensuing baseball season in 2002 being extremely worried (I said nothing of course) when we would drive on the lower level of the G.W.B, and if you take that drive you know there are buildings on top of the bridge entrance into NYC when it splits between the FDR Drive and Amsterdam Ave in the Bronx.
'What would happen? Would a van explode and trap us all like rats?' I thought.
These are the kinds of fears we had because we just never knew, and it would be years until justice was finally delivered to the curator of this disaster, Osama Bin Laden in the spring of 2011.
Since this is a sports site, obviously sports played a very large role in 9-11, its response to it, and how we survived it all.
All sporting events were cancelled for a week following the 9-11 attacks. No baseball. No football. Basketball and hockey preseason were also canceled.
It was quiet. Nothing was on television. This was long before Netflix or Prime Video, so when I say there was next to nothing on TV, I mean it! There was literary next to nothing except the news on just about every channel. What would we do? Would we bomb Afghanistan? Iraq? Saudi Arabia? How would we respond? Did anyone survive?
Sure, there were benefit concerts with a whole call list of celebrities. (Again, this was still in an era when people actually liked Hollywood celebrities -- famous faces like Tom Hanks, Bruce Springsteen, Bon Jovi, Paul McCartney, Billy Joel, and Alicia Keys all chipped in to help raise funds for 9-11 victims and their families on live TV.
There was even that bizarre moment when both houses of Congress - both Democrats and Republicans -- stood together holding candles and praying for their fellow American.
But overall it was a long, and painful time just waiting for any kind of reprieve.
When baseball finally returned about a week later on September 17, the Mets were in Pittsburgh to play the Pirates. It was so very strange. I remember seeing players trying to hold back tears during the national anthem. Mets broadcaster Gary Thorne was choked up. And I remember the Mets were still in a pennant race at the time. That took a back seat. It felt like it was Opening Day all over again, only not. The Mets won 4-1 which was a nice dose of reality at the time.
A few days later, the Mets made everyone feel even better.
On September 21, the Mets were the first team to host a game in New York City, at old Shea Stadium, against their arch rivals the Atlanta Braves. While these two bitter foes were once again neck-and-neck in the N.L. East standings, they took time before the game to share a team wide embrace on the field before the game.
It was so very different. Fans in attendance were nervous. Everyone was terrified. What would happen? Can we go to a ballgame? Should we be doing this?
The answer was a resounding 'YES!' Come the eighth inning of that ballgame, Hall of Famer Mike Piazza delivered the keynote when he crushed a solo home run straight dead center to give the Mets a 3-2 lead over Atlanta.
It was more than just a home run to beat the Braves and get closer in the standings. It was a breath of fresh air; like a baby taking its first scream to draw oxygen into its lungs when it breathed for the first time.
I'll never forget the feeling watching that on my couch. It was bigger than any World Series or NLCS. It was a shot at the terrorists that took down those buildings, and drove that plane into the Pentagon, and forced passengers to drive a plane into the ground that they could not and would never win. EVER!
A few weeks later the Yankees got their shot to give the City what it needed. The Yankees -- baseball's grandest dynasty of the 20th Century -- were looking for its fifth World Series title in six years at the time, and against the upstart Arizona Diamondbacks, we got one of the best Fall Classics we have ever seen.
The Yankees won Games 4 and 5 in dramatic fashion.
Those Yankees teams always found ways to rip the hearts right out of the chest of their opponents. As a Mets fan, I couldn't stand them, but respected them. Now, I wish we had teams like that still. Funny how that works. Those Yankees were ruthless, something we haven't seen from the franchise in decades.
First in Game 4 there was Tino Martinez's two-run bomb in the bottom of the ninth against closer Byung-huyn Kim that tied the game in typical Yankees fashion.
In extra innings Derek Jeter became Mr. November when he launched the game winning home run to knot up this series at two games a piece. Old Yankees Stadium exploded, the building shook!
The next night in Game 5, Scott Brosious crushed a two-out, two-run bomb off Kim to tie that game up at two. The Yankees would win on an Alfonso Soriano RBI single in the 12th.
While the Yankees would end up losing that World Series in seven games, those two cold October nights in the Bronx proved that New York was ready to stand tall again.
And so we did. We persevered. We kept going.
Every year; every week; every day.
We're still here, and we will never forget.
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