Our September 11, 2001 journaey began on September 10…the day before. Six months previously the technology bubble burst and I was caught in the second round of layoffs at Gartner. I was in the US on an H1B visa and basically had to leave. We had sold our house in Florida (in DeBary just north of Orlando), packed a 28 foot U-Haul truck to the brim (including the passenger side of the cab), filled out van, loaded stuff on top of the van and strapped thjings to the back. We still had to leave behind a lot of things.

The late afternoon of Sept. 10 we gathered in the front yard of our home surrounded by dozens of friends from our church as we were being prayed for and wept openly. To this date our departure ranks as one of the hardest things I’ve ever been through. We spent some prep time at good friend’s next door and then hit the road. We were headed back to Canada, back to Ottawa where a very close friend of mine (Steve-o) was gracious enough to give me a job at his software company for a couple of years while we saved for seminary. Sometime around 5 am south of Washington D.C. on Sept. 11 we stopped at a rest area to sleep for a little bit. At about 7 am we awoke and were getting ready to leave when we noticed the van had a flat…weird…we arrived fine but in the space of two hours while sleeping the tire simply went flat. I put the little temp spare on and we managed to find a garage one exit down the I-95 and were waiting on getting the tire changed while watching the little colour tv hung in the upper corner of the wall in the office. We were just getting ready to head out at about 8:45 am when the tv news mentioned that a plane had hot one of the twin towers in New York. It was assumed to be a small commuter plane lost in a morning fog and reports were promised. So we left, turned the radios to NPR and began our drive north. The plan was to go through Washington DC (we would have been there already if not for the flat) and hang out there for a bit and look around. Within minutes of departing though NPR began reporting the true nature of what was happening. A large passenger jet struck on of the twin towers; 20 minutes later another plane had struck the second tower. 30 minutes after that the Pentagon was hit. That’s when the true nature of what was going on began to hit.

I was stunned. Soon the electronic signs along the highway began to change. ALL ACCESS TO WASHINGTON DC CLOSED; or MAJOR INCIDENT; I-395 CLOSED; We had to detour around Washington DC. If it weren’t for the tire we would have been stuck there for who knows how long. As we continued north and the NPR broadcasters echoed our own disbelief at the towers collapsing we came within range of New York City. The signs were the same. ALL ACCESS NEW YORK CITY CLOSED; MAJOR INCIDENT. We saw national guard vehicles in convoys heading north. It was incredibly surreal and magnified by the fact that we did not see a single image until late afternoon when we finally stopped for the evening at a motel. I couldn’t even pray. I distinctly remember trying but I didn’t know what to say.

I spent the rest of the afternoon and night glued to CNN watching the footage of what had happened over and over again in disbelief. All flights over the continental United States were grounded for the first time ever. Every border was closed for 24 hours. No one in. No one out.

We began driving north again on Sept 12 and by the time we got to the border again it had just opened. The United States border folks had set up a temporary checkpoint about half a kilometre from the Canadian border. No one was allowed to leave the US without being inspected. We arrived. A packed van and a packed U-haul. A crying poopy Caleb in the van while the guard attempted to figure out who we were and what we had in the truck.

We passed through the Canadian border without incident and that’s when we saw the effect of having the US closed for 24 hours. A massive line of trucks stretched from the border to the 401 and beyond…kilometres of trucks stuck…waiting for the US to open again. Some of the trucks were starting to discard rotting produce along the highway. Weird.

We got to Ottawa exhausted, in shock and knowing that we would never forget September 11, 2001 for as long as we lived.