What really haunted me was the people who jumped from the buildings. I could not fathom what could make them do that.

On the third nearly-sleepless night after the attacks, I was lying in bed next to my 4-1/2 month old son when a concept so complete and powerful and instantaneous hit me that I had to get out of bed right then to write it all down. It felt like the whole story was given to me — downloaded to my brain in a little data burst. It was not created or crafted, but seemed like it just came into existence fully-formed. (Still, it took me a few hours in the wee hours of the morning to type it all out.)

And when it was done, I could finally sleep. I felt like I found some peace for myself, by way of my mind finding a sort of peace for some of those lives lost on that dark day.

Here’s the story as it originally appeared on my former site, Myria, in mid-September 2001. (The editor in me would love to rewrite some parts of it, but I am presenting it below as it was originally told, along with the intro that appeared upon its online publication.)

What was it like after Manhattan’s World Trade Center was hit? Why did the people trapped within make the choices they did? When it comes to those who perished, nobody will ever really know. Yet a question begs to be asked: What would you have done? Here is a fictionalized account of the September 11 attack. Read on for a look at how motherhood touches us, both in life and in death.

Joy

 
Everyone else was in an early meeting. I got to work early to catch up on my correspondence. I was in my own world, in the middle of writing a long-winded email message, when I heard a huge bang and felt an intense shake. I was instantly hyper-aware. That was no bomb in the basement; that wasn’t a lightning strike. Something big – and bad – had happened. And it was close.

Within moments, the overhead sprinklers went off. I heard others screaming down the hall. Nobody came my direction, but a few moments later I smelled smoke. Before I could finish my thought, “I have to get out of here,” I could see the fire blazing not twenty yards from my desk. It roared.

I stood watching in shock. In disbelief. I was transfixed by the flames, which were licking and leaping. They were coming closer. Consuming my secretary’s desk. Blackening and wilting the metal filing cabinets.

The room was suddenly blistering hot. Fear found me for an instant when I realized I couldn’t even keep my eyes open for the smoke and the wall of heat. I turned around and hid behind my desk. A line of fire snaked along my left, and before I could catch a clean breath, the heat cracked the windows and they exploded. Embers danced out through the void, followed by thick, black blankets of smoke.

Air. I had to have air. I moved to the window, driven by instinct. I thrust my head outside and gulped in big, cool breaths. I peeked out below. I couldn’t tell what happened, or what was happening now.

I quickly pivoted my head to look back, and the fire was all around me. It was deep and it was wide. It engulfed my desk, my computer, then my chair. It was creeping toward me. And I was alone. The only sound was the crackling roar of the fire, interspersed with exploding pops.

I didn’t have time to think, “What kind of escape route is a window over a hundred stories above the ground?” All that came to mind was how much it hurt when I skimmed the side of my hand on the hot oven the week before. I didn’t want to burn.

I stood on the ledge and composed myself. That took all of a second, but it didn’t feel hurried. Three thoughts: Swan dive. Close eyes. Think of my baby.

I flew out the window. It was like a dream.

I was surprised that the air was so noisy. No time to think about that. I held my eyes shut tight and rainbows and lights appeared in my mind. Beautiful warm colors. (Will it hurt when I hit? Don’t think don’t think don’t think about that.) My baby. I remembered the moment of his birth, the way he came out of my body in one beautiful, overwhelming push. How he looked when he emerged. My joy. Absolute joy. All pain forgotten and joy in my heart.

I never felt myself hit the ground. It was like I was flying… and then I was… not. I felt strange. I couldn’t breathe. I felt pressure from all sides. It wasn’t pain, it was something else. Force. I could tell it was dark, but I couldn’t open my eyes. Fear. I couldn’t move. Only barely. I could only move my head a little. I moved my neck back and then remembered you’re not supposed to move your neck after an accident. But it didn’t hurt. I turned my head to one side and then the other. It seemed to help. I felt the tightness ease for a moment and then it returned, stronger than ever. I tried to scream, but I couldn’t catch my breath.

Then it was like a curtain was lifted. I knew there was light but I still couldn’t open my eyes… or maybe I was scared to. And then I heard voices. I couldn’t understand what they were saying. I opened my mouth and tried to scream, but someone put something in my mouth. I choked, but then it seemed to help me breathe. I must have been bleeding. Oh, what a mess.

But they were taking care of me. How did they have time to take care of me? So many people must have been hurt in the fire. And how did I survive? And did I want to survive like this? Bloodied and barely breathing? I felt myself starting to cry. Was I afraid, or just grateful? I don’t know. I think both. I wasn’t alone. But I wasn’t right. That tightness was squeezing me unbearably across my chest.

I tried to scream again, “Help me!” The words wouldn’t come out. Mercifully, after an instant the pressure was gone. I could breathe! But now I was cold. Cold and wet. I could feel in my palms something thick and damp. Blood, I knew.

Then I felt big, rough hands on my body. I felt naked, small… helpless. All I could think now was “Mommy, mommy, mommy!” This was too much. I wanted my mom. “Please mom, help me!” I tried to say words but nothing at all would come out.

I felt like I was being moved, but I was too paralyzed with fear to open my eyes. I might have lost consciousness for a moment.

Before I knew it, I was warm again. I didn’t know where I was, but all I could think is that it felt like home. Like I was being held close in big loving arms. Like I could just fall asleep there and be there the rest of my life. Warm, smooth, soft. I inhaled deeply, freely. A sweet scent was everywhere. I was finally filled with calm. I finally let myself wonder, “Is this what it’s like to die?”

But I didn’t feel dead. I felt perfect. I felt alive.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. A face filled my view. I saw a woman, one who looked almost familiar (yet I couldn’t place her), looked down at me and smiled wearily. I smiled back and thought, “She must be taking care of me.” But how did I get here? I tried to speak, but still no words would come.

For I don’t know how long, I watched her, and she watched me. I started to forget about what had happened. I was mezmerized by her features. Dark hair. Eyes the most incredible shade of green.

I felt myself drifting off to sleep. My fall, my day – my life – started to seem like it had all been a dream. Around me, I heard several excited voices, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. My eyelids began to grow very, very heavy. I tried and tried but I couldn’t… possibly… keep my eyes open any more.

Enveloped in comfort, I surrendered to sleep as the voices continued all around me.

“Congratulations — you have a beautiful baby girl!”

“Look — shhh! The baby’s trying to take a nap.”

“What are you going to name her?”

“Joy. We’re going to call her Joy.”

For those few who wanted to see, here are my wisdom teeth — removed on 8/24/11.

You can click for a larger version of the pic if you are so inclined. :P As you might be able to see here, two of the teeth came out intact, and the remaining two needed to be cut and chopped and sliced and diced out.

I was originally going to be completely unconscious, but that plan was scuttled when I stopped breathing. So I have very vague memories of the action — but, surprisingly, was not too traumatized by it!

I think the one on the far right sort of looks like a warped version of a candy corn.

When my daughter had her wisdom teeth out at age 14, here’s the equipment they used:
 

A puffy little hummingbird, a split second before he flew away.

On June 6, 1944, American paratrooper Chet Graham parachuted over the French town of Saint-Mére-Eglise as some 156,000 American and Allied soldiers invaded northern France in a bid to liberate France from German occupation. Seventy soldiers of his company of 150 died in the attack. Chet, now 91, has returned to Normandy regularly for more than 30 years and says when he dies, he wishes to be buried here. On the 65th anniversary of D-Day, Chet brought four generations of his family to Normandy so that they will never forget what he lived through. An AFPTV report.

And here’s the video:

Find out a little more about my grandfather, Captain Chester Graham, on this Flickr page.

Update: Found one more vid, this one in Spanish – but it also has different shots:

Chet Graham: veterano estadounidense que desembarcó en Normandía

I love how these actually look like toy trains

Well, I have. Years of it, in fact. It was called “high school.”

I was reminded of that era by part of an email I just got from Kodak:

When will I get my order?
Your order is scheduled to arrive 3-10 business days after you receive this email. 3-10 business days delivery orders experience a range of delivery times. Most orders are delivered very quickly (within two to five business days), but 3-10 business days delivery time depends on distance and internal 3-10 business days delivery factors, and therefore cannot be guaranteed. US West Coast deliveries often arrive the next business day and many US East Coast orders arrive in as few as three business days. However, 3-10 business days delivery can take as long as 14 business days, regardless of destination. If your order has not arrived 14 business days after receiving your shipping confirmation email, please contact us at…

Check out a few of my favorite photographic creations – starting with an old shot of me and my big sister that looks like it’s in an antique book, and including putting one of my boys on a Harry Potter-esque WANTED poster and my daughter on a sign outside a (Russian) store. Go make your own at PhotoFunia!

BTW, I have no affiliation with this site at all – just thought it was interesting and amusing.

And on that topic, I included a little message for the man at the end of the piece, ’cause I know he’s such an avid SheKnows reader. Really, though, I have this whole concept/rationale in mind, and got exactly nowhere with it so far. But I’m just not going to push it if Mr NIN and his peeps aren’t interested — it’s not like I don’t have more than enough to keep me busy.

I knew I had some photos dating back to the 20s, but was surprised to find a few even older… from the mid- to late-19th century!

Here’s one I found — and I love everything about it, from the woman on the left with her wasp-waisted corset to the hat on the lawn in the foreground on the right. (You need to see it full-size to really appreciate the nuances of it — click on the pic for a larger version.)

Sadly, I don’t know where this was taken, or who the people are.