My 13 year old son is studying terrorism in History. Just last week they watched the documentary The Falling Man, about the men and women who jumped from the top floors of the 110 story World Trade Centre on September 11.
I was jolted when he told me that. Partly, because I had tried so hard to shield him from the horror of 9/11 when it happened. But also by the fact he was studying it in ‘history’. In some ways, it seems so recent.
I remember being in bed asleep when my phone rang on September 11. It was a friend, calling to say “Turn on the TV, America is being attacked.” It took a moment for me to work out what he was talking about and I blinked as I scrambled to the loungeroom to switch on the TV. Jason was away with Luca and I rang him to wake him up. “Turn on the TV” I said. And then called my parents. I spent the rest of the night on the phone to Jason, watching as the towers came down, trying desperately to contact different friends who lived in New York to check they were safe.
The next day, I woke up, reminded myself it was not a nightmare and wandered into work at ACP. We were all jittery. The building was evacuated several times and the multiple entrances and exits were shut down so everyone came and went through a single door with masses of security.
In those early days, nobody knew who or what was going to be the next terrorism target. Were media organisations going to be bombed? Wealthy westerners like the Packers? We were also painfully aware of our proximity to Centrepoint Tower – the highest building in the Sydney CBD.