The airport lounge had a feeling of impending stampede. Even though the TV monitor fixtures that broadcast an endless loop of CNNairport news and ads visuals had been cut (a blackout is policy after an aviation disaster), word filtered via cell phones and internet browsers. With each successive and surreal strike the crowd had become excitable and jumpy. An Hassidic type had fallen to both knees and was praying right there next to his black carry on which further disturbed the on lookers. They imagined it to be loaded with explosives. They figured that he was making final peace with his maker… there was a gasp and a woman shrieked and that’s all it took to clear the concourse. I felt the electricity and saw the people stream. I slipped into the backroom to hear a PA for the crews to stand-by. By this time all local air traffic had been ground stopped. I exited to and traversed the ramp where many of us boarded an employee bus heading for the lot. I was struck by the unusual stillness outside as I left the scene. All of the stationary aircraft had been de-powered while others were safely retrieved and accounted for. For several stand down no-fly days afterward it was eerie. I realized that the sky had not been this empty quiet since the birth of aviation. No approaching / departing aircraft. The sky was devoid of whisping jet contrails. It was like going back in time. The air was silent.
I love the images of being alone. My wife was home alone that day. She have extensive hearing loss but she could here the 21 gun salute at the local high school. I had placed flags in both the front and back yard. So she stood there listening as best she could for the muffled commenorations at the high school. Before she knew it, one of our ten year old dogs was sitting beside her as if listening too. Of course he had no idea what was happening but my wife and dog remembered as most of us really wanted to do. Quietly, respectfully and alone. Some thoughts are too strong to share with anyone else.