On Sept. 11, 2001, I was working a traffic post at Columbia Pike and Orme
Street, when a van pulled up to the check point.
A pastor exited the van along with a woman who was pregnant. The pastor asked me
if it was possible for them to get closer to the Pentagon. I informed them that
the road was closed and no one other than emergency personnel was allowed past
the check point.
The pastor told me that the pregnant woman’s husband worked at the Pentagon,
precisely in the area that was hit by the plane. She had not heard from her
husband all day and felt he may have been killed.
I spoke with the woman for a few minutes and decided that the least I could do
was escort her closer to the site. She told me that all she wanted was to see
the site and try and feel closer to her husband. Once I had picked a safe
distance for her, we stopped. She cried and prayed while placing both hands on
her stomach. She appeared to be about eight months pregnant. As she looked
towards the burning Pentagon, I thought of my two kids and wife. I realized how
precious life is and how quickly it can change.
Since that day, I think of the woman at times and wonder what ever happened. I
am more aware of making sure my family is taken care of in the event something
similar to Sept. 11 happens again. I am more aware of my surrounding and
mentally prepared to deal with anything, should it happen. At times I get angry,
but realize that we live in the greatest place on earth: The United States of
America.