Ten years ago (now twenty), Lorna and I went to Europe on a buying trip. She needed to get new merchandise for her miniature business. We would go first to Paris and get things there from various shops, and do a little sightseeing. Then we would go on to England where we would do the majority of the shopping, ending up in Birmingham for a major wholesale/retail show before returning home. On a Tuesday, we took a tour to visit Monet's home and garden in Giverny, an hour out of Paris. About 4:30 in the afternoon, we were taking our final potty stops and preparing to return to Paris, when a woman came running up, hysterically screaming that terrorists were attacking the World Trade Center in New York. The date, September 11, 2001. Needless to say, the complexion of our trip changed drastically at that moment. As we returned to Paris, our guide translated the news as it was coming over the radio in the bus. When we got back to our hotel, we immediately turned on CNN to see what was going on, only to be shocked and horrified to see the second plane hit the other tower. We didn't sleep very well that night, not knowing exactly what this all meant.
On Thursday, we left France, taking the Chunnel to England. For me, it was an anxious twenty minutes under the English Channel. As we traveled around England, the minute we spoke, people knew we were from the U. S. and immediately expressed their condolences and sympathy about what had happened. In shop windows in every village, hamlet and city, were posted signs that inside was a book to sign and express your feelings for the Americans. The books were going to be sent on to New York later. We even had a man leave a note on our rental car expressing his condolences.
The International aspect of the attack came home when we stayed at a B & B in Bath. The proprietress told us that her Vicar had a daughter in New York. She had just gotten married a few weeks earlier, and worked in one of the towers. She was among those missing.  The returning flight for us was also an anxious time. We still didn't know just how widespread the attacks were going to be and felt somewhat insecure in the airplane. We could not have been more relieved when we finally got home. As I relate this experience, I often choke up. Yes, we experienced the shock and horror of so many people loosing their lives. But of that terrible day and the days that followed, the feelings which I remember most are those as we were showered with love and compassion, love shown for people, whoever they were, in sympathy for those lost and for those who were left to live with it.
Carson E. Whitlow |
The following day, as we were leaving the hotel, management had posted in the elevator a note expressing to their American friends, their condolences and sympathy for the happenings in New York. All the museums and other government buildings were closed that day and under tight security. No one knew what was coming next, if anything.
