Dan J.
Well-Known Member
As the events of this horrific event are relived, I can't help but keep thinking about where I was 10 yrs. ago today. A thousand miles away and 7 miles offshore of the Canadian border on Lake Ontario fishing a Bassmaster Invitational is where I was when the terrorists attacked. I didn't know about it until just before noon when Scott Martin came by my boat and asked if my cell phone was working. (The WTC towers were the repeater antenna sources for most carriers in NY state because of their height.) Before I could check, he was telling me that planes had crashed into the World Trade Center. My quick reaction was it was some sick joke, but that quickly was erased by the serious expression on Scott's face. I tried my phone that had previosly had great signal and "No Service" was on the display.
My heart sank. I instantly thought about my wife and 18 mos. old little boy a thousand miles South of me, all alone and scared. I agreed with Scott that we all needed to trailer up and head to the scheduled tournament meeting and find out what was going on. We all met in Clayton, NY to find out the gas stations were all closed up. There were police roadblocks set up at the interstate exchanges not knowing what else may be going on with this attack.
The tournament was quickly voted to be cancelled and we were all left to figure out how to get home. The idea was to make a huge caravan for safety with the GA and FL boys running together farthest South as many of us had already been doing for years of tournaments. We figured it would be safer as we found the gas stations that were open had jumped from $1.85 or so to over $5 a gallon, if you found a station open or it even had gas since all fuel delivery had been shut down. We made a no layover train plan for home, some fellas having to transfer gas out of their boats to make it out of New York state before open gas stations started becoming available.
I left the remaining fellas to trailer South when we hit North Ga. After about 27 hrs. of non-stop driving I had caught up with all the details and the real fear and consequences of the event sank in. Alone in my Suburban during that drive I was never more afraid or alone in my entire life. That entire drive I had my Beretta 92SF loaded and cocked on the passenger seat, not knowing what to expect. I left my rig to get gas or a side of the road pit stop break we'd schedule every couple hours on our CB's and that was it. Something so devastating happening while I was so far away just scared me to my core. The thought of my wife and son at home, alone, while I figured a way to get home as fast as possible was the driving force to make it to my family. It also made it eventually impossible to continue the travelling weeks on end and fishing the trail without thinking about the events from 9/11 and where I was, away from my family, so far from home.
I know my story doesn't compare to any of the 2,976 lives lost on 9/11, but it is the story that impacted me directly because it's what I lived through during these events. I still carry that fear I felt that day seven miles out on Lake Ontario and that indescribable feeling exposes itself every time 9/11 is mentioned. It was my personal trek to make it home to my family, bar nothing else, during an extremely uncertain, isolated and dangerous time in all our lives. When my son is older I want him to understand what his Dad went through on that day to get home to him and his mother. So as I sit here with salt stained cheeks, watching memorial after memorial commemorating this tragic event, I feel even worse because I still think selfishly about how it impacted me and my journey to get back to my family and feel I should be focused on these 2,976 souls and even more compassionate for those lives lost in this horrific event.
God Bless and keep all of those souls lost this day, and God Protect and Keep our Troops that are eradicating this terrorist virus of evil from our globe.
My heart sank. I instantly thought about my wife and 18 mos. old little boy a thousand miles South of me, all alone and scared. I agreed with Scott that we all needed to trailer up and head to the scheduled tournament meeting and find out what was going on. We all met in Clayton, NY to find out the gas stations were all closed up. There were police roadblocks set up at the interstate exchanges not knowing what else may be going on with this attack.
The tournament was quickly voted to be cancelled and we were all left to figure out how to get home. The idea was to make a huge caravan for safety with the GA and FL boys running together farthest South as many of us had already been doing for years of tournaments. We figured it would be safer as we found the gas stations that were open had jumped from $1.85 or so to over $5 a gallon, if you found a station open or it even had gas since all fuel delivery had been shut down. We made a no layover train plan for home, some fellas having to transfer gas out of their boats to make it out of New York state before open gas stations started becoming available.
I left the remaining fellas to trailer South when we hit North Ga. After about 27 hrs. of non-stop driving I had caught up with all the details and the real fear and consequences of the event sank in. Alone in my Suburban during that drive I was never more afraid or alone in my entire life. That entire drive I had my Beretta 92SF loaded and cocked on the passenger seat, not knowing what to expect. I left my rig to get gas or a side of the road pit stop break we'd schedule every couple hours on our CB's and that was it. Something so devastating happening while I was so far away just scared me to my core. The thought of my wife and son at home, alone, while I figured a way to get home as fast as possible was the driving force to make it to my family. It also made it eventually impossible to continue the travelling weeks on end and fishing the trail without thinking about the events from 9/11 and where I was, away from my family, so far from home.
I know my story doesn't compare to any of the 2,976 lives lost on 9/11, but it is the story that impacted me directly because it's what I lived through during these events. I still carry that fear I felt that day seven miles out on Lake Ontario and that indescribable feeling exposes itself every time 9/11 is mentioned. It was my personal trek to make it home to my family, bar nothing else, during an extremely uncertain, isolated and dangerous time in all our lives. When my son is older I want him to understand what his Dad went through on that day to get home to him and his mother. So as I sit here with salt stained cheeks, watching memorial after memorial commemorating this tragic event, I feel even worse because I still think selfishly about how it impacted me and my journey to get back to my family and feel I should be focused on these 2,976 souls and even more compassionate for those lives lost in this horrific event.
God Bless and keep all of those souls lost this day, and God Protect and Keep our Troops that are eradicating this terrorist virus of evil from our globe.