We have asked people all over the world to send us their stories of 9 / 11 to Network 1776 to share their thoughts and feelings with the rest of the world. Some only think about September 11th on the day. I have cried thinking of the loss of life on this day of infamy.
Since it seems the fad this year for everyone to discuss their whereabouts seven years ago, I'd figure I'd share my experience as well. I don't normally talk about it cause there isn't much to talk about, I wasn't at ground zero, Shanksville, or D.C. that day, but there is a piece of 9-11 that I will carry with me till the day I die.
My 9/11 Story
Sunday, September 9th, 2001 was the Hoboken Railroad Festival. Usually held on Saturdays every year prior, I found it odd that the 150th anniversary of the Delaware Lackawanna and Western Railroad would be celebrated on a Sunday instead, but hey, who was I to argue. Putting this event together on an off year was a great accomplishment, doing it big time for the 150th was almost impossible. But still, I wanted to get my picture taken with one of the several women running around dressed like Phoebe Snow (the Railroad Mascot, not the singer) and was determined to go.
My girlfriend at the time, her children and myself left by train from Belmar, NJ to Newark Penn Station early in the morning. The kids, 3, none of whom ever been on a train ride, where excited to say the least. We could've rode all the way into Hoboken, but service was limited and would've required a layover in Newark if we were to ride New Jersey Transit. Instead, we opted for the Port Authority Trans-Hudson, or PATH instead.
I've ridden the PATH many a time before, but usually only the Jersey side, or occasionally to 33rd street in Manhattan, never to World Trade. I decided that day to ride with my entourage out to WTC, than switch trains and head back to Hoboken that way, because I looked at it as rare mileage. Diving into the ground as we left Journal Square, the kids were at first skeptical, but soon got accustomed to riding underground.
Our stay in World Trade was about 15 minutes just to snoop around and see what was there, plus to allow the children an extra experience for the day that they would otherwise not have. I gave a brief description about WTC as best as I could (tallest buildings in NYC) and then we were off back over to Hoboken.
Many of the photos taken that day had the twin towers as part of the back drop, and surely the ex has them buried somewhere in a photo box. But we all had a very wonderful time, and yes, I did get my picture with the beloved Phoebe. Our arrival back at Belmar was late afternoon, sometime around 7'ish, and when we left, we went straight from Hoboken to Exchange Place, switched trains, and back to Newark.
Not once did I think that 2 days later, those towers would be gone.
September 11th, 2001
I was driving a rollback tow truck for J&M Towing out of Wayne at the time, and my usual routine during the morning drive hours was to listen to WABC radio, 770 AM out of New York. I was a fan of the "Curtis and Kuby" show, and my first tow took me from Wayne to Clifton that morning.
After I cleared from the call, I stopped at the Exxon Station in West Paterson on the west bound side of Route 46, right where Route 3 merges in, and did my usual, pack of cigarettes, a bottle of coke, and a roll with butter. I got back in the truck, and called my boss over the Nextel asking if there were any calls holding, and he gave me one right in West Paterson, heading back to Belleville, and since I was there, I should just grab it and go. No biggie.
As I was eating my roll, I heard the gang from the Curtis and Kuby show reporting on a plane that crashed into one of the World Trade towers. The very initial reports that came in didn't describe the plane, but Kuby was convinced it was probably a small plane, not totally unheard of crashing into buildings in New York. As I was leaving the parking lot of the Exxon, there was a caller on the phone lines to the station explaining to both guest what he had seen. It was graphic, but what really got me thinking was while he was explaining the site, the second plane hit. At first, I thought this guy was a prankster, but as he was explaining how he could feel the heat from the building he was in, as his voice cracked and his spirit broke, this became very real.
I knew then we were under some sort of attack.
On my way to pick up the second car, I called another driver, Harry, who religiously listened to 660 AM, WFAN. I told him over the Nextel to shut that sports crap off and turn down the dial, we were under attack. Still half asleep, and more interested in sports, he said he'd check it out during a commercial.
With car in tow, I headed down Washington Ave in Nutley, to get to Belleville, and I passed by and opening on the side of the road, lined with a stone wall. People were beginning to line up on the sidewalk to watch as the towers burned, and this would become forever etched in my head as the view of the twin towers that I saw burning.
I dropped the car at the mechanic in Belleville, who was glued to his TV that morning, called clear, and was told to start heading back and to call in when I got back in the area for the next call. That would be the last transmission as Nextel would shut down due to the collapse.
As I returned up Washington Ave, I parked the rollback about half a block down the street and walked up to the area where everyone was standing, watching the view of the smoking buildings. I couldn't believe it, but I was just in there 2 days prior, having a good time, and now they are on fire. 5 minutes seemed like eternity, as I just watched. I spoke to no one about what I thought, just gazed.
Back in the truck, I listened intently to WABC radio, and when I got myself back on Route 46, I stopped at Apollo Flags in Totowa to get an American Flag. (Tow Truck Operators are very patriotic). It was a small one, on a stick (the plastic window mounts weren't popular yet) and I taped it to the mirror on the door, and tried to merge back into traffic, which was now getting heavier because people were fleeing in New Jersey to go home, and at this point, one of the towers collapsed. (I was in the store when it happened.)
I tried calling in to get my next call, but to no avail as Nextel went down, so I drove back to the shop, listening how the story would unfold. Tower two would collapse as I pulled into the yard, and walked inside.
My next tow that day took me to South Jersey. By then, WABC switched to a news feed from ABC networks, who was describing in detail the horror unfold. It was strange getting on the New Jersey Turnpike, headed South, finding out that they closed the Northbound Lanes from exit 9 up to the 18. Desolate, for the exception of the occasional piece of apparatus or ambulance from down south, heading North, as I passed by exit 9, it was clear the State Police weren't kidding, you were getting off exit 9.
I dropped my car, and called the shop on the 800 number to inform them that I would be detoured on the return leg, and traffic at the exit I would be forced to get off was a nightmare. Ok was all that was said, and it pretty much killed the rest of my afternoon trying to get back up north. People everywhere were in a hurry to get home, thinking that the world was somehow coming to an end. Changing lanes, running stop signs, traffic lights, it was a real son of a bitch trying to defensively drive as everyone was in panic mode.
Interestingly, as I drove, the radio was on, but I wasn't paying attention. Trying to keep from being crashed into was the focus of my attention, and it wasn't till I got home did I learn that the Pentagon was attacked, and that another plane crashed in Shanksville PA.
The next few days were interesting, as there wasn't any planes in the sky. Funny beings we are, always complaining about where planes fly and the noise it generates, yet here it is, a sky without any flight traffic. People stayed home from work, from school. Towing slowed down considerably those next couple of days as people's lives just stopped in general.
Anti-Muslim hatred started brewing in small pockets, usually just racial slurs, and rumors of a riot in Paterson floated around, Muslims dancing in the street, being attacked by blacks and Hispanics, while Sheriff's officers on Horses looked on, but they weren't true.
Slowly life would start returning back to normal, as best it could, but forever etched into my memory was the fact that I was just there 2 days prior, and yet, it was now gone.
Jeffrey Webber Founder of Network1776.org & UPRNLive.com
My 9-11 Story FLWolf The events of 9-11 have had a profound effect on my life, as it has on the lives of millions worldwide. On 9/11/2001 I was on vacation with my wife in London, England. We had just come from the British Museum and exited the Underground near our hotel. It was mid-afternoon in London, and as we came up to street level we immediately noticed that something significant had happened as there were crowds of people running to the many news stands near the train stops and the shops along the street. We ran to one and bought a paper, the Daily Mail, which had on the cover a photo of the 1st plane hitting the Twin Towers. At first we thought it was some sick joke (many British papers are really scandal rags). As we got to our room and turned on the TV, we watched CNN Europe play and replay the video of the planes hitting the towers, the smoldering Pentagon, and the smoking field in Pennsylvania. We were in utter shock and disbelief. As we watched, we tried to call family back home in the States but we couldn't get through to anyone on the East Coast, which alarmed us even more. Eventually we reached my wife's parents in Dallas and learned that all family were safe and accounted for.
My head was spinning trying to process what was happening and what it meant. At the time I was a pilot for a large US passenger carrier, having been hired in early 2000. I came to the airlines after flight school with a background in law enforcement (8 years) and military (2 years US Army Infantry). My first reaction watching the planes hit the towers - not knowing as yet what airlines the belonged to and assuming they were the US Air Shuttles form Boston to NY and DC - was the heartbreaking feeling that I knew the crews and many of the passengers on those planes, as I commuted on the Shuttles each week between Boston and New York LaGuardia. While we were still in London we also experienced great kindness and sympathy from the British people. We attended the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace on Thursday, September 13 as it had been announced there would be a special tribute to those killed. When the ceremony began, a color guard came forward and raised the Stars and Stripes on the pole next to the Union Jack. The bands played several US Military marching songs and hymns. The finale was the hymn "Going Home," which if your have never heard played by a British military band ending with a lone bagpiper, you must. As the hymn drew to an end, the ranks of the bands broke formation and left the parade field, eventually leaving the lone bagpiper who finished the song. When the piper finished the song, he executed an about face, snapped to attention and snapped a long salute to the Stars and Stripes and marched off the field. The crowd were almost all American tourists and needless to say lots of tears. I was very emotional: I felt rage at whomever perpetrated the crime, I felt great pride in being an American and was ready to back the government in taking out the culprits, who ever they may be. Of course, this was some time before my full awakening to the truth of 9-11.
We made it home to Boston on the day we were originally scheduled to arrive thanks to the incredible people of Virgin Atlantic. I returned to work a couple of days later, commuting out of Boston's Logan Airport to my pilot base at New York LaGuardia exactly one week after 9-11, and my awakening began as I approached the security checkpoint that day. Now, let me be clear: I have never been a 100% unquestioning government kool-aid drinker. I have always regarded government power with suspicion and skepticism - even when I was in the military and in law enforcement. But, up until that moment, I had been too caught up in the massive propaganda push of the corporate run press and "news" agencies, believing the official story that we were attacked by what I now call al-CIA-da. What I saw that day at Logan was the same people last week worked for Global Security now wearing federal badges. I knew some of them and spoke with some of them. They told me that they had been basically transferred to the employ of the US Government as is - no training, no nothing - just given the authority of federal agents and a mandate.
There were several similar things that raised the red flags over the next several months and years. The most significant, however, at least for me and my eventual coming to the truth of 9-11, was the lack of evidence from the Pentagon. While several friends tried to enlighten me to the truth of what happened to Building 7 and the towers, I admittedly had a difficult time processing what they were talking about. What I did not have a difficult processing was what happened - or better put, what did not happen - at the Pentagon.
I am no expert on buildings. I am, however, an expert on airplanes, and I know that there is no way in hell that a Boeing 757 hit the Pentagon anymore than TWA Flight 800 blew up because of "bundle of wires with flawed insulation" ignited a spark in the main fuel tank. I know what a transport category aircraft like the B757 is and is not capable of. I also know that when an airplane hits a building at ground level, there is debris and carnage on a scale that is unimaginable to someone who has never seen such a thing. I know that if a transport category airplane nose-dives into a field that there is going to more there than a smoking hole in the ground. I know hot jet fuel burns. I know what size hole a large airplane would make in a concrete building. I know that none of the official version of 9-11 is true because of what was not at the scene of the crime. No engine parts, not fuselage, no bodies, no main-gear struts. No wing struts. No video of a large airplane hitting what is like the most secure building on the face of the earth even though there are literally thousands of cameras in the vicinity aimed at the point of impact. There is nothing, not one piece of evidence to support the government's official version of what happened at the Pentagon or in Pennsylvania - quite the contrary. The lack of evidence is what speaks volumes.
It was only well after I was able to process this and accept it for what it was that I could move forward and learn and understand Building 7 and the towers. It was the same thing as TWA 800 (but that is a story for another time). False flag. Just like OK City. Manipulation just like Waco. A criminal class directing the apparatus of government in a way that only a criminal class can, and toward an end as sinister - more sinister - than could be conceived by the average person who chooses not to question the things that go on around them and is oblivious to the concept of situational awareness.
I am awake now. Fully awake. I have no illusions of any semblance of good that could ever come from this - or any- government, because government serves itself, and the governments of the major industrialized nations are run by a cartel of globalist bankster criminals whose goal is to convince us to kill ourselves through senseless unjust wars, through eating their frankenfoods, through drinking their fluoridated water, through breathing in their chemtrails (that I have seen being sprayed from the cockpit). I am awake. I will never go back. I stand for liberty and truth in a way that I would never have had I not had a professional connection to 9-11 and been able to understand this for the false flag it was. I have no illusions about the events that have occurred recently in the Gulf, in the Middle East, in Korea. I have no illusions about what it means when federal courts rule that we have no right to privacy, and police routinely kill and torture their subjects with impunity. I have no illusion about where we are headed when our selected 'representatives' ignore, taunt and insult those they purport to represent, when the alphabet soup bureaucracies interject themselves into the private lives of people, when combat hardened troops return to be assigned to Northcom, when FEMA hosts UN and other foreign troops for 'exercises,' and when American soldiers participating in such exercises are quietly subjected to Courts Martial for refusing to obey illicit orders or for refusing to take orders from foreign officers on US soil. I have absolutely no illusions as to where we are headed. I also have no illusion as to what my role must be if I am to prevent my children from being slaves to the New World Order, and will fulfill that role as I must.
FLWolf
My 9/11 Story -ColoradoGal
On 9/11/2001 I was 9-years-old. I remember waking up that morning and getting ready to go to school. When I was putting my clothes on I heard my aunt yell something at me. I opened my door to hear what she was yelling. She was saying, "Look, Look! someone crashed a plane into the Twin Towers!" At that point, only one tower had been hit. I didn't even know what the World Trade Center was, or even what a terrorist was.
My brother came to pick me up and take me to school. I think that the second plane hit just as we were leaving. When I got to school, the teacher had the news on in our classroom. She explained to us that people were jumping out of the windows and that some other people had probably died. I remember the awful feeling that I had in the pit of my stomach. I felt sad for the people who had died, I felt scared that someone might come and attack my school or my family, and I was angry that any human being could do something like that. I loved America then, and I always will, and the idea that someone was trying to hurt America made me furious.
When I look back on it now, I don't really believe everything that I was told about 9/11 by the media, but I am still just as angry that anyone could hurt and kill innocent Americans. I will never forget what happened and I hope that everyone who was lost is resting peacefully, and that their families find justice. Thank you so very much for giving me the chance to tell you my 9/11 story. God bless the whole UPRN family!
