9/11 - The Day We Left Innocence Behind!

The sun was streaming through the café window, as I finished making the last of the sandwiches for the afternoon rush. I walked over to the tables at the front, overlooking the forecourt and straightened the plastic chequered tablecloths, wiping down the surfaces with a damp tea towel and clearing the last of the breakfast plates. I looked out of the large expanse of glass; the petrol pumps at the garage were beginning to fill, with busy customers heading into Salisbury. Monika, the lady who lived in the bungalow next door, walked sternly past, waving briefly as she saw my face. I smiled, courteously as ever, giving a customary salute, as I always did when I saw her. Tables, finally tip-top and Bristol fashion, I popped into the garage, just to make sure everything was alright. Darrell was on the console, chatting to Mr Green from the village, who was pointing out an article in the Salisbury Journal, which made them both laugh out loud. I caught Darrell's eye, who gave me the thumbs up, all was well, so I headed back into the café!

It was time to do the washing up, which was by now piled high on the draining board. After making fifty sandwiches, I was feeling a little tired to say the least. I took a Coke from the fridge behind the counter and gulped down the contents in one, without even stopping. After wiping my mouth clean with some kitchen towel, I filled the sink with hot water; marigolds on, I started to wash the plates!

The television was on in the corner of the diner, just above the comfy couches, used by customers to drink their coffee, relaxing, watching a spot of TV before they continued on their journey. The Pitstop Café was a stopping point for motorists heading to and from Salisbury on the busy A36. We were very much a part of  local village life, a tiny cog in the fabric of Brickworth, a  hamlet on the Hampshire/Wiltshire boarder. A small family enterprise, Darrell and I enjoyed being part of the local community. This was a happy, industrious time for us and we both enjoyed the relative peace and quiet, running a business in a setting we appreciated! Our comfortable existence, was about to be disrupted by events, that neither of us could have foreseen.

It was getting on for 1pm when a news flash interrupted normal viewing on the TV. Hands wet, I heard the announcement on BBC1 and turned around, shaking the soap suds from my rubber gloves as I watched the unfolding drama, playing out before my eyes. A plane had hit one of the World Trade Centre buildings in New York, smoke was bellowing upwards as flames illuminated the gaping chasm on the side of the building. I took my gloves off and walked over to the TV set, sitting down, eyes glued to what was going on. It must have been a plane crash, how awful for everyone involved, what a terrible thing to happen.

Shortly afterwards, a second plane crashed headlong into the other tower, a plume of debris filled the air; this was no ordinary accident, this was clearly an orchestrated attack. I sat there in horror, watching a travesty of monumental proportions develop. Shocked at what was going on in New York, feeling emotional, I walked over to the entrance to the café and cordoned it off. There was just one customer having a cup of tea, and we both watched silently as the minutes passed.

Darrell walked into the Café, asking what was going on; I just pointed to the television! Standing there briefly, transfixed, he turned quietly, heading back into the shop. I could hear the customers discussing events in America, several popped their heads around the door, watching for a few moments, aghast, in disbelief, looking on in horror unable to comprehend the pictures on the screen.  After a brief conversation  the single  customer left; not a regular, but a businessman passing through, lingering a little longer than he would have done. He patted me on the back, 'I'll always remember this day!' he said, waving goodbye as he left. No words crossed my lips as I acknowledged his departure, nodding my head ever so slightly! My mind was elsewhere, as my anxiety increased, realising New York was under attack!

Half an hour later, a plane crashed into The Pentagon and The White House was evacuated. The news was coming in thick and fast, more and more unbelievable each time. Then, just as I got up to use the toilet, the South Tower collapsed live on television; immediately I sat back down. Newscasters, reporters, and cameramen looked shell shocked as the circumstances of these attacks became clear; a few moments later, another hijacked plane crashed into a field on route to Washington. This was a day like no other. As a viewer looking in, I sat there and shed a tear. People trapped in burning skyscrapers waving whatever they could, trying to attract the attention of the emergency services. Others jumping from top floor windows, trying to escape the flames, falling to their deaths and great clouds of smoke engulfing city streets, as both towers finally collapsed.

I must have watched the television for hours, far into the night, as the full gravity of what I had just witnessed hit home. These were events that would shape not only my life but everyone else's, even today in 2019. The ramifications of 9/11 were wide and enduring; war, terrorist attacks, violence, and death became common place, frequently emblazoned across our TV screens, most of us by now immune to the destruction that had become an almost daily occurrence. 9/11 was the beginning of a new World, which left innocence behind. Over three thousand lives were  lost during and after the attacks and like many others I remember that Tuesday with consternation. This was the day I realised just what humans can do to one another, without a care for the lives they expelled. This was the day, I finally woke up and became aware of man's inhumanity to man!

---

---

---

---