I will never forget Cari's first plane ride...

September 11, 2001 Cari and I were up bright and early, headed for the airport.  It was our first big adventure together and our first time away from Rob.  We were on our way to NM.  It was a beautiful sunny morning, not a cloud in the sky.  We kissed Rob goodbye and a few minutes later were in the sky flying towards Chicago, where we would change planes.  Fort Wayne to Chicago is a quick easy flight.  We land and everything thing seems fine.  However on our way to a gate, the pilot stops and announces that we are waiting for one to open.  Minutes begin to pass by and passengers begin to wonder what the hold up is.  As a young new mother, I begin to wonder how long I can keep this baby quiet in such tight, stuffy quarters.  I then notice the flight attendant pick up her phone.  As she is listening her smile drops and her face is overcome with fear.  She begins to scan the plane, looking for "someone".  My heart sinks and my adrenaline kicks in overdrive.  I hold Cari close, in hopes to protect her from what may come.  Minutes are now dragging by, people are grumbling, hot and flustered.  Finally the pilot makes an announcement that Chicago O'hare is closed for today, informing us that we need to make arrangements to leave the airport.  But still no explanation, we are left wondering.  As we take our first steps off the plane, it is a very solemn surrounding.  The attendant quietly tells each passenger that a plane has struck the World Trade Center.  My heart sinks and my mind tries to wrap itself around this information.  As I walk out into the airport that is usually bustling full of travelers, it is completely silent.  Every so often an announcement plays, directing everyone to baggage claims.  I look for a phone to call Rob and my anxiously awaiting family and friends back in NM.  My first try calling Rob fails, he is in class.  So I call Papa and Nana, I know they will be home.  As soon as Papa answers, tears flood my eyes.  My voice cracks, but I manage to get out, "We're okay".  I could here the relief in Papa's voice, but the fear of the circumstance as well.
I make my way down to baggage claims and come upon a sea of people.  It takes me awhile to muddle through the crowd with a stroller, but I manage to find our luggage.  What new mom manages to pack lightly on her first cross country outing?  Not me.  I wonder how in the world I am going to carry all of the luggage around while managing to push a stroller.  A few minutes later, a very kind older gentleman offers his help.  Although I honestly was scared out of my mind, wondering who to trust, I gladly accept his help.  He offered to escort me to a nearby hotel and give up his room, so that Cari and I would have somewhere safe to stay until Rob arrived.  He carried my luggage, helped me on the shuttle to the hotel, all the while providing a calm father-like sense.  Papa later referred to him as my guardian angel.  He certainly calmed me down, helping me to maintain my composure in this time of uncertainty.  It wasn't until sitting in the hotel lobby watching the news coverage, that I realized the seriousness of this day.  The car ride back to Fort Wayne later that day was full of mixed emotions.  We were heartbroken for the thousands of Americans who lost their lives and thankful to be reunited with one another.  Like most Americans, I will never forget that day.