9/11 - The Day the World Changed
OK, so this has nothing to do with design and as such doesn’t really belong in this blog. But on this day 5 years ago the world changed – in many ways for the worse – and we are left only with the memories of what the world was like before the towers fell.
This entry recounts my experiences in Norway on that defining day. I was not in New York and I didn’t know anyone who was there so I was not directly effected by what happened. Still I hope my story can give the events of that day a more global perspective and that it can be used by future generations to understand how they changed the world. This was after all the first true global event, viewed and talked about around the world on the same day at the same time – a snapshot of what the world was like one September Tuesday in 2001.
I realized I should tell my story to the world a few weeks ago when I chanced upon a reference to what I was doing on that day on the web. I was searching for an old article I had written as a student at the University of Oslo when I stumbled across the minutes of a meeting in a sub group of The Norwegian Association of Higher Education Institution. There, eternalized on the internet, was a document placing me in Bodø – a city far north of the polar circle – on September 11th, 2001. The day had been etched into my memory but finding an actual document with my name on it reminded me of one thing: That even on a day remembered only for the dreadful events that transpired, the world was still normal everywhere else.
In 2001 I had the privilege of serving as one of two student representatives in the Senate at the University of Oslo. As such I was the students’ voice in all matters relating to the university, financial, political, managerial and educational. And as part of my position I served as the student representative in many associations and boards and it was in this capacity I found myself traveling from my student apartment in Oslo to the airport on September 11th. The meeting would take place at the Bodø University College at 10am so with a 3 hour flight ahead of me I showed up at the airport carrying only a book and my wallet at 6am. At this time of the morning there were few other passengers and I walked straight through check-in to the gate without security giving me a second glance. The flight on the half full plane was as uneventful as I had expected and it was only thanks to my book I didn’t fall asleep. Landing in Bodø I realized that my decision to wear only a shirt and no jacket was a bad one. Farther north than Oslo the city was nippy and autumn was grabbing hold.
The meeting commenced at 10am. There is little I can say about its contents because it was filled with technical and administrative decisions and little else. The hours went slowly by and my memory of the meeting is little more than a blur. Then a few minutes before three pm (9am New York time) my cell phone which was set to vibrate and in my left pocket started receiving SMS messages. At first it was just one but then as we got closer to three more and more messages started arriving. This was unusual and I started wondering if one of my colleagues was playing a prank on me. The break was called and I went into the hallway to answer my phone in private, half expecting some elaborate gag to be underway. It had reached it’s limit of 20 new messages and the first one from one of my close friends simply read “CNN”. I deleted it and before I managed to open the next one a new message popped in. It was from my friend again, this time saying “Are you watching this?”. I deleted this message and another one came in. Scrolling through the remainder of the messages I realized they were from my friends, my brother and some colleagues. The messages themselves were sketchy, mostly containing only acronyms like “CNN” and “WTC” or saying “Turn on the TV!” or “I can’t believe this is happening.” While I dialled my friend Erlend who had sent me the first message I scanned the hallways for a TV but couldn’t find one. As he picked up he almost screamed “Are you watching this?” in an agitated voice. I could hear the TV on in the background. I asked him what he was talking about but he cut me off yelling “A second one! A second plane hit the World Trade Center!” I was dumbfounded. What on earth was he talking about? The conversation continued for a few minutes before I fully grasped what he was trying to say. Someone had crashed two planes into the World Trade Center. Unbelievable. The other people from the meeting were going back to the room. I stepped in last putting my phone down and staring blankly at the other participants to see if I had heard correctly. Several of them were staring back. “Someone crashed planes into the World Trade Center” I said out loud, more as a question than as a statement. Coming out of my mouth it sounded ridiculous. Yet a few of the other people nodded solemnly. I can only assume they had also heard.
The meeting lasted another hour. My mind was racing. What did this mean? Could it have been an accident? But he said two planes. That couldn’t be an accident. The meeting was called to an end right before 4pm. I immediately called my brother. He was in our apartment sitting on my couch watching CNN. “The South Tower collapsed” he yelled. This story just kept getting more and more bizarre. Then he started shouting. “The other tower just collapsed too!” I was staring at one of the other people at the meeting who was also talking on the phone. Her facial expression told me that she was experiencing the same thing I was. Standing there in the hallway of a school on the other side of the planet and far from home I suddenly felt like I was in some sort of insulated environment locked off from the rest of the world. It was almost as if everything I knew was exploding all around me and I could only experience it through my conversations with people on the outside. We went to a waiting car to make our way back to the airport. We were flying back to Oslo a few hours later. At least that was the plan.
On the way I called Angela (the other half of Pink & Yellow Media) in Vancouver, Canada. She was sleeping (4:15pm Norwegian time = 10:15am New York time and 7:15am Vancouver time). “Go turn on the TV” I said. After a few confused questions she was awake enough to understand what I was trying to tell her: “Someone crashed planes into the World Trade Center. Go turn on the TV.” That was all I could do. Later I learned that many of the planes over North American airspace was diverted to Vancouver International Airport causing a mild chaos as thousands of travellers were stranded in the wrong country and with no way of reaching their destination.
Half an hour later we found our way to a bar with a TV at the airport. It must have been around 5pm. The Norwegian newscast was grim. They were showing clips of the second plane hitting the South Tower – the plume of fire and smoke unbelievably large and ominous – then the South Tower collapsing and finally the North Tower collapsing. Video of scores of people – white with dust and debris – running through New York’s streets and the Pentagon on fire was accompanied with unusually agitated commentary about the carnage half a world away. Then the Prime Minister appeared asking people to stay calm. My colleagues were on the phones with their families, one of them trying to assure his young daughter that no one would blow his plane up and that he would be home shortly. I was wondering if the plane would leave at all.
At the gate I was told that the airline had had an unusually high number of last minute cancellations. It was as if it was an invitation to stay behind. I went onboard and sat in my assigned seat, the next passenger five rows in front of me. The sunset was spectacular: Thick orange and red spread over the cloud layer as we rose to cruising altitude. The contrast between the beautiful sunset I was watching and the sheer horror that was unfolding in New York was numbing. I just stared out the window until the plane touched down in Oslo three hours later. The airport was deserted. Everyone was home with their families. All the TVs were tuned to news. On The Airport Express train to Oslo Central Station the few passengers were sombre and quiet. It was as if a dark cloud had descended on the world and was suffocating everyone and everything. And while the train was making it’s way back to the city centre I slowly realized that this was just the beginning of something much worse.
At home in my apartment my brother was still glued to the TV in my room. He had prepared a pizza that was now cold. It felt weird sitting there watching the planes hit and the towers crumble again and again while we were eating. It was as if we were watching a Hollywood movie except there was no make-believe. And it was equally impossible to comprehend the horror facing the people killed and those left behind. For us it became a morbid TV show as more and more disturbing video and images kept coming in.
The next morning there was nothing else in the papers. At work people were numb from watching the same scenes again and again. My friend and at the time leader of the Student Parliament Anne came in to my office and just sat down silently for a long time. “What just happened?” she asked me. I couldn’t give her any assurances. I was sure this would lead to war. Later on in the day other people dropped by, everyone with the same vacant stare, everyone worried about the future. Someone voiced the concern we were all suppressing – that this would be a catalyst for George W. Bush to start a large-scale military action against anyone he didn’t like. And surely enough in the days to follow he invented both the black and white doctrine and the Axis of Evil, both based on a limited understanding of the world and both devastating for the USA as well as the rest of the world.
This entry recounts my experiences in Norway on that defining day. I was not in New York and I didn’t know anyone who was there so I was not directly effected by what happened. Still I hope my story can give the events of that day a more global perspective and that it can be used by future generations to understand how they changed the world. This was after all the first true global event, viewed and talked about around the world on the same day at the same time – a snapshot of what the world was like one September Tuesday in 2001.
I realized I should tell my story to the world a few weeks ago when I chanced upon a reference to what I was doing on that day on the web. I was searching for an old article I had written as a student at the University of Oslo when I stumbled across the minutes of a meeting in a sub group of The Norwegian Association of Higher Education Institution. There, eternalized on the internet, was a document placing me in Bodø – a city far north of the polar circle – on September 11th, 2001. The day had been etched into my memory but finding an actual document with my name on it reminded me of one thing: That even on a day remembered only for the dreadful events that transpired, the world was still normal everywhere else.
In 2001 I had the privilege of serving as one of two student representatives in the Senate at the University of Oslo. As such I was the students’ voice in all matters relating to the university, financial, political, managerial and educational. And as part of my position I served as the student representative in many associations and boards and it was in this capacity I found myself traveling from my student apartment in Oslo to the airport on September 11th. The meeting would take place at the Bodø University College at 10am so with a 3 hour flight ahead of me I showed up at the airport carrying only a book and my wallet at 6am. At this time of the morning there were few other passengers and I walked straight through check-in to the gate without security giving me a second glance. The flight on the half full plane was as uneventful as I had expected and it was only thanks to my book I didn’t fall asleep. Landing in Bodø I realized that my decision to wear only a shirt and no jacket was a bad one. Farther north than Oslo the city was nippy and autumn was grabbing hold.
The meeting commenced at 10am. There is little I can say about its contents because it was filled with technical and administrative decisions and little else. The hours went slowly by and my memory of the meeting is little more than a blur. Then a few minutes before three pm (9am New York time) my cell phone which was set to vibrate and in my left pocket started receiving SMS messages. At first it was just one but then as we got closer to three more and more messages started arriving. This was unusual and I started wondering if one of my colleagues was playing a prank on me. The break was called and I went into the hallway to answer my phone in private, half expecting some elaborate gag to be underway. It had reached it’s limit of 20 new messages and the first one from one of my close friends simply read “CNN”. I deleted it and before I managed to open the next one a new message popped in. It was from my friend again, this time saying “Are you watching this?”. I deleted this message and another one came in. Scrolling through the remainder of the messages I realized they were from my friends, my brother and some colleagues. The messages themselves were sketchy, mostly containing only acronyms like “CNN” and “WTC” or saying “Turn on the TV!” or “I can’t believe this is happening.” While I dialled my friend Erlend who had sent me the first message I scanned the hallways for a TV but couldn’t find one. As he picked up he almost screamed “Are you watching this?” in an agitated voice. I could hear the TV on in the background. I asked him what he was talking about but he cut me off yelling “A second one! A second plane hit the World Trade Center!” I was dumbfounded. What on earth was he talking about? The conversation continued for a few minutes before I fully grasped what he was trying to say. Someone had crashed two planes into the World Trade Center. Unbelievable. The other people from the meeting were going back to the room. I stepped in last putting my phone down and staring blankly at the other participants to see if I had heard correctly. Several of them were staring back. “Someone crashed planes into the World Trade Center” I said out loud, more as a question than as a statement. Coming out of my mouth it sounded ridiculous. Yet a few of the other people nodded solemnly. I can only assume they had also heard.
The meeting lasted another hour. My mind was racing. What did this mean? Could it have been an accident? But he said two planes. That couldn’t be an accident. The meeting was called to an end right before 4pm. I immediately called my brother. He was in our apartment sitting on my couch watching CNN. “The South Tower collapsed” he yelled. This story just kept getting more and more bizarre. Then he started shouting. “The other tower just collapsed too!” I was staring at one of the other people at the meeting who was also talking on the phone. Her facial expression told me that she was experiencing the same thing I was. Standing there in the hallway of a school on the other side of the planet and far from home I suddenly felt like I was in some sort of insulated environment locked off from the rest of the world. It was almost as if everything I knew was exploding all around me and I could only experience it through my conversations with people on the outside. We went to a waiting car to make our way back to the airport. We were flying back to Oslo a few hours later. At least that was the plan.
On the way I called Angela (the other half of Pink & Yellow Media) in Vancouver, Canada. She was sleeping (4:15pm Norwegian time = 10:15am New York time and 7:15am Vancouver time). “Go turn on the TV” I said. After a few confused questions she was awake enough to understand what I was trying to tell her: “Someone crashed planes into the World Trade Center. Go turn on the TV.” That was all I could do. Later I learned that many of the planes over North American airspace was diverted to Vancouver International Airport causing a mild chaos as thousands of travellers were stranded in the wrong country and with no way of reaching their destination.
Half an hour later we found our way to a bar with a TV at the airport. It must have been around 5pm. The Norwegian newscast was grim. They were showing clips of the second plane hitting the South Tower – the plume of fire and smoke unbelievably large and ominous – then the South Tower collapsing and finally the North Tower collapsing. Video of scores of people – white with dust and debris – running through New York’s streets and the Pentagon on fire was accompanied with unusually agitated commentary about the carnage half a world away. Then the Prime Minister appeared asking people to stay calm. My colleagues were on the phones with their families, one of them trying to assure his young daughter that no one would blow his plane up and that he would be home shortly. I was wondering if the plane would leave at all.
At the gate I was told that the airline had had an unusually high number of last minute cancellations. It was as if it was an invitation to stay behind. I went onboard and sat in my assigned seat, the next passenger five rows in front of me. The sunset was spectacular: Thick orange and red spread over the cloud layer as we rose to cruising altitude. The contrast between the beautiful sunset I was watching and the sheer horror that was unfolding in New York was numbing. I just stared out the window until the plane touched down in Oslo three hours later. The airport was deserted. Everyone was home with their families. All the TVs were tuned to news. On The Airport Express train to Oslo Central Station the few passengers were sombre and quiet. It was as if a dark cloud had descended on the world and was suffocating everyone and everything. And while the train was making it’s way back to the city centre I slowly realized that this was just the beginning of something much worse.
At home in my apartment my brother was still glued to the TV in my room. He had prepared a pizza that was now cold. It felt weird sitting there watching the planes hit and the towers crumble again and again while we were eating. It was as if we were watching a Hollywood movie except there was no make-believe. And it was equally impossible to comprehend the horror facing the people killed and those left behind. For us it became a morbid TV show as more and more disturbing video and images kept coming in.
The next morning there was nothing else in the papers. At work people were numb from watching the same scenes again and again. My friend and at the time leader of the Student Parliament Anne came in to my office and just sat down silently for a long time. “What just happened?” she asked me. I couldn’t give her any assurances. I was sure this would lead to war. Later on in the day other people dropped by, everyone with the same vacant stare, everyone worried about the future. Someone voiced the concern we were all suppressing – that this would be a catalyst for George W. Bush to start a large-scale military action against anyone he didn’t like. And surely enough in the days to follow he invented both the black and white doctrine and the Axis of Evil, both based on a limited understanding of the world and both devastating for the USA as well as the rest of the world.
posted by Pink & Yellow Media at
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