Never Forget: ASI's CEO Reflects on 9/11
Friday September 10, 2021 | Filed under:
You’ll see many social media posts with recollections of 20 years ago tomorrow, Sept. 11, 2001. Like the assassination of President Kennedy a generation before, the horrible attacks remain an unforgettable moment in the memories of those of us who were old enough to be aware of what was occurring.
My memory is vivid and begins the morning before the attacks. The photos were taken by a former colleague, part of a private collection that hasn’t been published, or even circulated, and is very painful every time I open the files. But they give a glimpse of the World Trade Center scene just a few days after the attack. The photos were taken from the offices of The Wall Street Journal/Dow Jones, which were across the street from the Towers.
My very first trip into New York City, around 1983, was from Hoboken into the subway depths of the World Trade Center. For nearly two decades, the Twin Towers remained a constant in my life. My daily ritual was leaving the WTC subway station and walking across the street into the offices of Dow Jones & Co., publisher of The Wall Street Journal and my first corporate home.
On September 10, 2001, I had mid-morning breakfast at a favorite restaurant in the World Trade Center, on around the 43rd floor. On my way home, I bought a pair of chinos at the Banana Republic in the newly renovated WTC shopping concourse.
Early the next morning, on September 11, I took off from Newark Airport for Kansas City, on a business trip with my colleague Deb. We learned in flight about the first plane hitting the North Tower and then at the rental car counter about the second plane crashing into the South Tower and then the third plane hitting the Pentagon.
If I had been at my usual breakfast at WTC, I could’ve died.
Instead, I found myself away from home, managing 1,800 employees scattered across the United States, including 75 people in New York City blocks from the financial district. It was a day of watching history unfold on a large-screen TV in a Kansas City conference room crowded with my Midwest colleagues, while crafting an email by noon telling employees everywhere to do whatever felt right for their own comfort. Finding a place that felt safe was on everyone’s mind.
That evening, like every American, I watched President George W. Bush give the most important speech of his life. I remember crying with friends, while feeling a sense of relief from his words and his determination to defend the United States and to make the murderers responsible pay.
The next two weeks were a blur of business and transportation standstills, trying to move employees forward and to restore the feeling, however impossible, of being safe. Working from home was not as feasible as today and, in reality, most people didn’t even try.
With planes flying again, I finally arrived back home to Princeton, New Jersey, a couple of week later. More than anything else, I wanted to gather with my friends, feel safe, dance, drink or just sit and share. My friend Elvin and I had worked together across the miles to have a gathering – a celebration of our life and safety – upon my return. Pulling into my driveway, I saw a big tent visible over my house in the backyard, part of the preparations. At my front door, I was greeted by a bouquet of flowers with a note from neighbors: “We are sorry at your loss of Tim in the WTC.” They had assumed the tent was for a memorial service, since many in and around Princeton were lost that day and were being remembered and mourned.
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A few years later, I had the rare opportunity to interview President Bush, our keynote speaker at the ASI trade show in Dallas. Before our 90-minute interview, we had breakfast together backstage. His handlers hadn’t asked for my questions in advance and he waved off reviewing them. “You can’t ask me anything someone else hasn’t asked me,” he leaned in and told me. A few minutes later, as I prepared to head out and introduce him, I felt a poke in the middle of my back. It was President Bush. I turned, startled and, frankly, nervous. “I forgot to tell you something really important, Tim,” he whispered as the crowd on the other side of the curtains cheered. “You’re going to do great!”
Onstage, he walked us through his childhood, his time as governor, and then moving into the White House. We shifted to September 11. My simple query: “So you woke up on Sept. 11. Take us through the next 24 hours.” He shared an incredible story. At the end, I asked, “Were you scared?” His answer: “I wasn’t scared, I was pissed off.”
Once offstage, I thanked him and we posed for a photo. “Tim, something you need to know,” he said. “You asked me a question nobody has ever asked me before. Nobody in my life has ever asked me if I was scared.”
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May we never forget, and may we do everything in our power to make sure it never happens again. My thoughts and prayers go out to the families of those who perished, either innocents working in the Twin Towers or the heroes who tried to save them.
