Inside the Situation Room on 9-11 (Part 3 of 3)
I went back into the Sit Room and returned to assisting the communicators.
The flow had slowed considerably, and once all the planes flying in U.
S.
airspace were grounded it seemed emptier in there than at any time since earlier that morning.
Most of the non-NSC staff members had left by then, and I began to think that my usefulness was probably on the wane as well.
I found Col.
Bash, the principal Deputy Executive Secretary of the NSC and an Air Force pilot with combat experience, in his office in Exec Sec and was given permission to leave at 4:00 pm.
I spent my remaining hour clearing my desk of the work that had come in that morning and been ignored, even though I knew it was useless since terrorism was now the top priority.
Nevertheless, it was good to focus on something else for a little while, and I was ready to leave when the time came.
The Metro wasn't stopping at the Pentagon anymore, so I called my friend Ari and asked if I could take a different train out to him and if he could drive me home from there.
He agreed, as I knew he would, and I left the Sit Room ready to go home and glad to be alive.
I paused for a moment after walking out the White House gates and looked up and down Pennsylvania Avenue.
A normally bustling pedestrian mall was empty, except for the soldiers and their armored vehicles that had taken up positions around the complex.
As I walked toward the Metro, I concentrated on the sound of my shoes hitting the sidewalk.
It had a nice rhythm to it and I tried to keep the beat during my short walk, better that than think about what had happened over the past seven hours.
The train was virtually empty, and Jared and I didn't talk much on the ride from his place to mine.
I had nothing to say.
The light on my answering machine was blinking furiously when I got to my apartment, and there were messages from relatives and friends trying to figure out where I was.
I hadn't realized it, but they had all seen the White House being evacuated and thought I had gone with everyone else.
The first call I made was to my parents, who promptly scolded me for not calling sooner.
I said that I didn't have time, but that wasn't true.
There were free minutes during the day when I could have let my mother and father know I was still at work and I was fine, but it hadn't occurred to me that anyone would be worried.
The White House survived, and I knew that they would have been notified if anything bad happened.
Still, to this day I regret putting them through those hours of uncertainty, as well as my brother and sister who were equally in the dark.
After making all my calls, I sat down on the couch and turned on the TV.
At that moment I stopped being the NSC staffer who had to keep it together and focus on work to get through the day, and I was just another American watching replays of the death and destruction that had been unleashed upon us that day.
I sat there watching for hours.
I watched and, for the first time that day, I cried.
I got to work a little early the next day, September 12th, and the Sit Room was already busy when I walked in.
Members of the NSC's counter-terrorism and defense staffs had stayed through the night, and the first person I saw that morning asked me to make copies of a document he gave me and bring it to him when I was done.
I turned on the copy machine and waited for it to warm up, then I glanced at the pages I had been handed.
A few weeks later the entire world learned what I had already known.
Immediately after the attacks ended, a plan was formulated to invade Afghanistan and go after al-Qaida and the Taliban.
The rest of the world was behind us, and the U.
S.
received tremendous support from countries all over the globe, many of who have never been recognized publicly.
It was initially a great success for the American military, but the President and, more importantly the Vice President, had Iraq on their minds and it became clear that that was the next stop.
Pride.
It's not the reason I stayed behind on September 11th, but it is the reason I decided to leave the White House for good less than five months later.
February 1, 2002, was my last day at the NSC, and even though I wasn't certain why, I knew I couldn't work there anymore.
When I had lunch with Greg before I took his job, he told me that I should always be amazed that I work at the White House, and when I lost that feeling then it was time to go.
Soon after I started working at the NSC I realized that he was wrong: you can't work someplace if you're amazed by it all the time.
Inspired, yes.
I was inspired by the White House.
A person could do tremendous good from that building, and as history has shown, one can use that power for more nefarious purposes as well.
From November 2000 to late 2001 I was proud to say I worked for the NSC.
I was proud to say I worked at the White House.
That all changed once I realized what the Bush Administration was planning to do with the people it captured in the "War on Terror," the vast majority of which is now public knowledge.
Guantanamo Bay, extraordinary renditions, any way to keep them out of U.
S.
jurisdiction.
I was appalled because as far as I was concerned there was only one reason to do this: torture.
We couldn't very well fly these guys into the U.
S.
and just beat the shit out of them.
That had to be done overseas.
And as the citizens of this country have learned, that is exactly what happened.
On top of all this, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Iraq was going to be the site of our next war.
The White House had already tightened its oversight of military operations in the area, and Iraq became a subject of documents and meetings that appeared with increasing frequency.
The invasion was still more than a year away, but I wanted no part in it.
The conduct of the "War on Terror" and the obvious march to war in Iraq had sapped me of any desire to continue working for President Bush, and I found a new job outside government and tendered my resignation.
Finally, years after that tragic day, I am pleased that the world is learning of the inhumanity of the Bush Administration, yet I remain disgusted by the lack of outrage in our own country.
There are millions of people, many with public voices, who opposed the ruthlessness of our government, but the nature of politics forced them to remain silent.
The ex-President and Vice President, with the guidance of Karl Rove, have attacked those who criticize as unpatriotic and weak in the fight against Islamic extremism.
It is not those who stand up against a too-powerful President who are unpatriotic, but he who uses the mantle of power to trash both the Constitution and the concept of basic human decency that deserves scorn.
The pride that I felt so strongly is gone.
I know that I played a small, easily forgotten part in all that has happened and that I had no power to change the outcome.
I was support staff, and I did my best to keep the NSC running as smoothly as possible.
Policymakers wrote the papers, and I moved them along.
Simple job, but one that provided access to the workings of the U.
S.
President and his national security and foreign policy apparatus.
I worked with incredible people; true patriots who served their country honorably in war and peace and gave all that was asked of them.
I like knowing that I used to be one of them, but I no longer have pride in the White House.
P.
S.
: I originally wrote this on the fifth anniversary of the attacks, more as a coping mechanism for myself than anything else.
With President Bush now out of the White House and President Obama occupying the Oval Office, I am certainly pleased that we, as a nation, have taken a huge step forward.
My excitement about President Obama has been somewhat tempered, however, by his refusal to investigate and prosecute torture and other violations of national and international law.
While I was thrilled that he signed an Executive Order directing the closure of Guantanamo Bay, his protection of Bush officials and continued reliance on the ever-expanding "state secrets" privilege raises some doubts as to how far this former Constitutional Law professor will go to ensure that the Constitution is truly protected.
P.
P.
S.
: The names of some of my former co-workers have been changed to protect their identities.
The flow had slowed considerably, and once all the planes flying in U.
S.
airspace were grounded it seemed emptier in there than at any time since earlier that morning.
Most of the non-NSC staff members had left by then, and I began to think that my usefulness was probably on the wane as well.
I found Col.
Bash, the principal Deputy Executive Secretary of the NSC and an Air Force pilot with combat experience, in his office in Exec Sec and was given permission to leave at 4:00 pm.
I spent my remaining hour clearing my desk of the work that had come in that morning and been ignored, even though I knew it was useless since terrorism was now the top priority.
Nevertheless, it was good to focus on something else for a little while, and I was ready to leave when the time came.
The Metro wasn't stopping at the Pentagon anymore, so I called my friend Ari and asked if I could take a different train out to him and if he could drive me home from there.
He agreed, as I knew he would, and I left the Sit Room ready to go home and glad to be alive.
I paused for a moment after walking out the White House gates and looked up and down Pennsylvania Avenue.
A normally bustling pedestrian mall was empty, except for the soldiers and their armored vehicles that had taken up positions around the complex.
As I walked toward the Metro, I concentrated on the sound of my shoes hitting the sidewalk.
It had a nice rhythm to it and I tried to keep the beat during my short walk, better that than think about what had happened over the past seven hours.
The train was virtually empty, and Jared and I didn't talk much on the ride from his place to mine.
I had nothing to say.
The light on my answering machine was blinking furiously when I got to my apartment, and there were messages from relatives and friends trying to figure out where I was.
I hadn't realized it, but they had all seen the White House being evacuated and thought I had gone with everyone else.
The first call I made was to my parents, who promptly scolded me for not calling sooner.
I said that I didn't have time, but that wasn't true.
There were free minutes during the day when I could have let my mother and father know I was still at work and I was fine, but it hadn't occurred to me that anyone would be worried.
The White House survived, and I knew that they would have been notified if anything bad happened.
Still, to this day I regret putting them through those hours of uncertainty, as well as my brother and sister who were equally in the dark.
After making all my calls, I sat down on the couch and turned on the TV.
At that moment I stopped being the NSC staffer who had to keep it together and focus on work to get through the day, and I was just another American watching replays of the death and destruction that had been unleashed upon us that day.
I sat there watching for hours.
I watched and, for the first time that day, I cried.
I got to work a little early the next day, September 12th, and the Sit Room was already busy when I walked in.
Members of the NSC's counter-terrorism and defense staffs had stayed through the night, and the first person I saw that morning asked me to make copies of a document he gave me and bring it to him when I was done.
I turned on the copy machine and waited for it to warm up, then I glanced at the pages I had been handed.
A few weeks later the entire world learned what I had already known.
Immediately after the attacks ended, a plan was formulated to invade Afghanistan and go after al-Qaida and the Taliban.
The rest of the world was behind us, and the U.
S.
received tremendous support from countries all over the globe, many of who have never been recognized publicly.
It was initially a great success for the American military, but the President and, more importantly the Vice President, had Iraq on their minds and it became clear that that was the next stop.
Pride.
It's not the reason I stayed behind on September 11th, but it is the reason I decided to leave the White House for good less than five months later.
February 1, 2002, was my last day at the NSC, and even though I wasn't certain why, I knew I couldn't work there anymore.
When I had lunch with Greg before I took his job, he told me that I should always be amazed that I work at the White House, and when I lost that feeling then it was time to go.
Soon after I started working at the NSC I realized that he was wrong: you can't work someplace if you're amazed by it all the time.
Inspired, yes.
I was inspired by the White House.
A person could do tremendous good from that building, and as history has shown, one can use that power for more nefarious purposes as well.
From November 2000 to late 2001 I was proud to say I worked for the NSC.
I was proud to say I worked at the White House.
That all changed once I realized what the Bush Administration was planning to do with the people it captured in the "War on Terror," the vast majority of which is now public knowledge.
Guantanamo Bay, extraordinary renditions, any way to keep them out of U.
S.
jurisdiction.
I was appalled because as far as I was concerned there was only one reason to do this: torture.
We couldn't very well fly these guys into the U.
S.
and just beat the shit out of them.
That had to be done overseas.
And as the citizens of this country have learned, that is exactly what happened.
On top of all this, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Iraq was going to be the site of our next war.
The White House had already tightened its oversight of military operations in the area, and Iraq became a subject of documents and meetings that appeared with increasing frequency.
The invasion was still more than a year away, but I wanted no part in it.
The conduct of the "War on Terror" and the obvious march to war in Iraq had sapped me of any desire to continue working for President Bush, and I found a new job outside government and tendered my resignation.
Finally, years after that tragic day, I am pleased that the world is learning of the inhumanity of the Bush Administration, yet I remain disgusted by the lack of outrage in our own country.
There are millions of people, many with public voices, who opposed the ruthlessness of our government, but the nature of politics forced them to remain silent.
The ex-President and Vice President, with the guidance of Karl Rove, have attacked those who criticize as unpatriotic and weak in the fight against Islamic extremism.
It is not those who stand up against a too-powerful President who are unpatriotic, but he who uses the mantle of power to trash both the Constitution and the concept of basic human decency that deserves scorn.
The pride that I felt so strongly is gone.
I know that I played a small, easily forgotten part in all that has happened and that I had no power to change the outcome.
I was support staff, and I did my best to keep the NSC running as smoothly as possible.
Policymakers wrote the papers, and I moved them along.
Simple job, but one that provided access to the workings of the U.
S.
President and his national security and foreign policy apparatus.
I worked with incredible people; true patriots who served their country honorably in war and peace and gave all that was asked of them.
I like knowing that I used to be one of them, but I no longer have pride in the White House.
P.
S.
: I originally wrote this on the fifth anniversary of the attacks, more as a coping mechanism for myself than anything else.
With President Bush now out of the White House and President Obama occupying the Oval Office, I am certainly pleased that we, as a nation, have taken a huge step forward.
My excitement about President Obama has been somewhat tempered, however, by his refusal to investigate and prosecute torture and other violations of national and international law.
While I was thrilled that he signed an Executive Order directing the closure of Guantanamo Bay, his protection of Bush officials and continued reliance on the ever-expanding "state secrets" privilege raises some doubts as to how far this former Constitutional Law professor will go to ensure that the Constitution is truly protected.
P.
P.
S.
: The names of some of my former co-workers have been changed to protect their identities.
Source...