How Nepal Changed Me

Note: This post first appeared in the Elephant Journal.  It is a cummulation of my story of how I became the thirdeyemom, why I started this blog, what inspired me to make a difference in my life and others and why I began fundraising for Nepal. The link to the original post is here:  Nepal was utterly amazing.  How it changed me forever.

I am also going to include a copy of the post here.  My trip to Nepal and my recent efforts at fundraising have made a huge impact on my life.  It is a way to change the dynamic of being a simple traveler to being a compassionate human being who gives back to the community visited.  I strongly believe that travel is a gift.  It is important to give in return.  Without further delay, here is my story.

How Nepal Changed Me

By thirdeyemom

Nepal was utterly amazing. The trek was arduous, humbling and long.  We hiked over 100 miles doing on average 4-8 hours of strenuous hiking a day at altitudes up to almost 18,000 feet.  But what amazed me most was the magical culture and people that I found in Nepal.

 

Photo of my dad and me at 6:30 am summit of the highest point of our Annapurna trek, Thorong-La Pass at 17,769 feet.

“Coffee. Tea” the flight attendant asked wearily. “I’ll take a coffee with sugar, please” I responded half-awake yet with a smile.  We were two hours short of our 15-hour non-stop flight from Chicago to Delhi and I could hardly believe we were almost there.  I had seen the sun set and rise and set again all within that time and needless to say, my body was confused.   I had no idea how I’d manage to go to bed that night.  It was 8 PM in India but my body was still on Minneapolis time, a bright and early 8 AM.  It was going to be interesting. 

As we made our final descent through the thick, dark blanket of pollution that covered Delhi I couldn’t help but think about why I was here and where I was headed:  To Nepal to hike the mighty Himalayas with my beloved dad.   How on earth did I come so far with such a grandiose plan for a vacation?  Even I, a stay-at-home mom of two young children, couldn’t believe it was real.

My father and I have been traveling partners all my life.  What started out as numerous family vacations throughout my childhood lead to annual vacations with just my dad to destinations around the world.  Over the past ten years, we hiked Machu Picchu in Peru, dived in Australia’s Great Barrier Reef, hiked in Patagonia twice, played golf in Ireland, went skiing in Italy and France, and went on a safari in South Africa.   My friends thought I was crazy.  But I felt invigorated and alive.

Nepal was one of those elusive, mystical places in the back of our minds that we had dreamed of visiting one day.  It had everything we wanted in a travel destination:  Majestic scenery, world-class hiking, unbelievable mountains, and a diverse and fascinating culture.  Yet it was impossibly far away and would require a fair amount of time to see.  We also had no idea how safe or doable it was to hike.  When thinking about Nepal, my mind easily crept to those crazy, over the top athletes who climb Mount Everest.  I thought there was probably more tame hiking adventures but didn’t truly know.  Thus as an actual travel destination, Nepal remained a very distant possibility.  Perhaps someday we would go there.

Little did I know it would be sooner than I ever imagined.  My dad and I had just returned from a spectacular hiking trip in Patagonia, Argentina where we had first caught wind of the real possibility of trekking the Himalayas in Nepal.  During our trip to Patagonia, we had met an exciting couple from England who were in their sixties and had just completed the world-famous Annapurna trek the year before.   My father and I listened in awe and fascination as they explained their trip and we were instantly hooked.  It sounded like the trip of a lifetime that we could easily accomplish physically.  Yet we just had to figure out how we could manage such a long trip.  My children were only three and five years old and we would need at least two to three weeks.  I wasn’t sure my mother or husband would be willing to babysit the children for that long.  Thus once again, the thought of going to Nepal was placed on the back burner.

Almost like a sign of fate, my dad happened to see an article in the New York Times on March 10, 2010 called “Hiking the Annapurna Trek Before the Road Takes Over”.  Basically what the article said was that this world-renowned hike was going to be ruined within a matter of years by the building of a dirty, dusty road that would tear through idyllic villages and pristine nature and open this once hidden, mystical land to jeep, car, and bus traffic.  That was all we needed to hear and it was soon decided that the time to go was now.  We gingerly presented our idea to both my husband and mom who surprisingly were in full support of our plan and gave us the green light to start planning.  We were thrilled.

 

Me and my dad at the start of the trail.

The start of the Annapurna trail is gravel now. Yet not for much longer as a road is in the process of being built from the start of the trail all the way to Manang which currently takes eight days to reach by foot.

The New York Times article recommended two trekking companies.  We sent query letters and received a reply almost immediately from Earthbound Expeditions, a locally owned and run outfitter in Nepal.  We received a custom itinerary that perfectly met our needs and time constraints, and had amazingly prompt replies to all my crazy questions such as the safety records of internal flights in the mountains to the availability of calling home while on the trail.  I was amazed and impressed by the high level of personal attention and service given by Earthbound’s owner, Rajan.  This kind of service has long disappeared from most American travel companies. We booked the trip for the end of October 2010 for a 17-day journey that inspired and excited me beyond my expectations.

The desire to give something back

Before leaving for Nepal, I made a decision that I no longer wanted to be simply a tourist that visited a country, enriched myself in all its culture and beauty, and left nothing in return, no gift behind. My new way of thinking all began on a recent trip I made which was different from anything else I’d ever done: A volunteer trip to work in Costa Rica.  Although I was only there for one week, the impact volunteering made on my life and the people I helped during that short time led me to believe strongly that we must give back.  Travel is a gift and it is important to give in return.

I wracked my brain for different ways I could raise money. I knew that I wanted to donate money to a non-profit organization that focuses on education in Nepal. After reading several inspirational books on education in poverty-stricken lands, I knew that this was the area to attack.  I searched Lonely Planet who has an excellent listing of non-profit organizations as well as volunteer opportunities, and found just the organization I was looking for:  READ Nepal.

READ Nepal is part of READ Global:
“READ Global pioneered the concept of sustainability as an international development organization dedicated to combining education and private enterprise to make rural communities viable places to learn, build, and prosper. READ partners with rural communities to create, sustain and grow projects in a manner that is politically and culturally appropriate. READ has helped establish forty nine Community Library and Resource Centers paired with for-profit enterprises throughout Nepal and India that serve over a half million people annually and has also recently opened up a center in Bhutan”.

Nepalese children dressed proudly in their school uniforms waved as we passed them by.

Finding the right organization was the easy part. The hard part was figuring out how a stay-at-home mom could raise the money.  I didn’t want to ask for donations from friends and families.  Instead, I wanted to earn the money and somehow involve my children in the process so they could learn the importance of giving back.

That was where creative thinking came into play.  It was summer in Minnesota, a time to be outdoors, out of our long winter’s hibernation, and back into the world again enjoying our 10,000+ lakes, beautiful parks and nature.  Initially, I set a small goal of raising a couple hundred dollars for my cause.   But as time went by, I realized it was possible to do more.  I just had to be creative!  I set my first goal at $500 and used traditional American-style activities to raise the money.  In June, I ran a co-op “babysitting fundraiser” at my house on Friday mornings.  Each Friday I babysat up to ten kids in exchange for a small donation.  Although it was incredibly exhausting, it was a terrific success.   In July, my children and I ran a car wash and lemonade stand to raise money for Read Nepal.  Once again, I was pleasantly surprised by the generosity of my friends and neighbors who contributed donations.   Finally, in early September my family and I held our first annual yard sale in the name of charity.    Through these efforts, my initial goal of $500 suddenly amassed to $2,000 and I was ecstatic!   The $2,000 raised was matched by my husband’s employer, bringing the total donation to READ Nepal up to $4,000.  Just like that a small idea ended up being a big help. The funds were donated a week before I boarded the plane to Kathmandu.

READ Nepal was delighted with the donation and informed me that the money would be more than enough to open up an entire library and reading center in rural Nepal.  They were beyond thrilled and continually showered me with compliments and called me “their little Angel”.  I was so shocked to receive such immense gratitude for what I thought was a small amount in the grand scheme of things.  Yet it made me realize how much ANYTHING can do to help, especially in this economic climate. It just goes to show how far your money can go in a third world country. The gift was given and I realized that it is the things you do for others in life that makes you feel the best.

Photo of three Nepali girls dressed in their finest clothing in honor of the Festival of Lights, one of the biggest holidays in Nepal. The girls went from table to table, singing and dancing and then asking for a small donation to help pay for school.

Why the third-eye?
As a world-traveler I was completely unprepared for what I would see in India.  Complete and utter chaos, poverty and pollution beyond anything I’d ever seen before in any of my travels.  My heart sank.  The cultural shock of India hit me like a punch.  I was blown away and honestly, a bit afraid.

View of one of many slums in Delhi.

Many unpaved streets

Women living on the streets outside the US Embassy

We arrived at our hotel, thankfully without hitting someone or something in the chaotic lines that made up the roads and I took a deep breath and sigh of relief.  I had heard that India was a little chaotic yet what I had just seen stirred up some serious culture shock in my normally open mind.  That was when I met the owner of the hotel and he told me the most important thing I’d ever learned about traveling and culture shock:  The importance of having and maintaining the third eye.

In the Hindu and Buddhist religions, the third eye is a symbol of enlightenment and wisdom and is commonly seen in Indian and East Asian countries represented by a dot, eye or mark on the forehead of deities or “enlightened beings”.

I received my third eye in a timely manner.  Right after we entered the hotel, we were welcomed with a traditional marigold necklace and the third eye dotted on our foreheads to remind us that we needed to see India with an open mind.  This idea stuck with me throughout the trip and was probably the best advice I could have ever received.  It was so powerful that I decided that it would become the name for my new blog as it incorporated all my ideas about how I wanted to see the world and how I wanted to communicate my travel experiences with others.  For travel is definitely an enormous learning adventure and when visiting other cultures, especially ones that are so incredibly different than your own, you must keep a third eye.  Otherwise you would miss out on seeing what travel is really about: seeing and learning how other people around the world live, thinking about what you’ve learned, formatting opinions on it, and most importantly, sharing this knowledge with others.  If you don’t have a third eye, what could you possibly learn?

Me after I received my marigold necklace and the third eye.

The trip of a Lifetime

Nepal was utterly amazing. The trek was arduous, humbling and long.  We hiked over 100 miles doing on average 4-8 hours of strenuous hiking a day at altitudes up to almost 18,000 feet.  But what amazed me most was the magical culture and people that I found in Nepal.  It is one of the world’s poorest countries in which over 80% of the population is rural and the majority of people survive on less than $2 a day, not even a cup of coffee in the US.  Yet, the rich culture and traditions of the people rose above the impoverished conditions that most villagers live in.

Leaving Kathmandu and heading to the mountains.

The beautiful rice terraces and lush green Kathmandu Valley.

My first sight of a fresh coat of snow over the Annapurnas in Manang took my breath away.

Along the Annapurna trail, you walk through many villages and are greeted by the rural Nepalese, goat herders, chicken sellers, mule trains, and yaks.

The Buddhist influence greets you at each village as you pass by Buddhist prayer flags, temples, prayer wheels and the smell of burning juniper.

The Buddhist influence.

Being blessed by a 94-year-old monk who lives in a cave monastery at 13,000 feet near Manang.

After completing the trek, I realized why it is called one of the best treks in the world because no other trail has such magnificent scenery and fascinating culture.  No other trek I’ve done has ever gone directly through villages and has allowed me to walk side by side villages doing their daily business.  We passed goat herders, mule trains, men carrying 20 chickens on their backs in a wire cage doing his sales rounds, happy children dressed in their worn school uniforms, Buddhist temples, shrines and prayer wheels and prayer flags.  It felt like being on another planet.  And that is what brings me back to why Nepal changed my life.

It is possible to make a difference:  Little things can have big results

As our jet plane took off for home and climbed five thousand, ten thousand and then eighteen thousand feet, I realized in awe that only a few days ago I had been at almost the same altitude as the plane.  It was a wild thought; almost a little frightening.

Our porter Chhring, me, our guide Hari and my dad in Manang, where the road will end. We shared many wonderful days together talking, laughing and sharing our cultures.

Where it all began….

As I looked down, I was finally was able to conceptualize how high 18,000 feet truly is. The buildings became smaller and smaller, the cars like ants lining the roads. The vastness of the green, voluptuous rice fields stacked one on top of the other, bursting in color and life. Then, for the last time, I saw the godlike, mighty Himalayas, strikingly beautiful, like a mirage of flying towers soaring upwards into the heavens of the sky. I found it hard to believe that I was really here and had really been there.  It was all like a dream.

Nepal was one of those eye-opening moments in my life in which I realized not only how blessed we are to live in a free, prosperous country (where we have the pleasure of the “western toilet, clean streets without piles of garbage, education, opportunity and space), but how important it is for us as privileged people to give back.   Visiting Nepal struck a chord in my heart and made me realize how impoverished these wonderfully, peaceful and loving villagers are.  Over 80% of Nepalese live in rural areas that have little or no access to education.  I believe strongly that education is the key to a better future and a better life.  From that trip on, I was determined to change my life and figure out a way to keep giving back.

This young Nepali girl made me smile.

Almost as if an act of fate, I somehow or another found a way to follow my dreams and continue my work fundraising for education in Nepal.  As we were leaving Kathmandu, Rajan, the owner of Earthbound Expeditions, our trekking company, gave me his card and mentioned some of the social work he is involved with in Nepal.  On the back of the card was the small, grass-roots NGO called HANDS in Nepal.  As soon as I got home, I contacted them.  It was the perfect fit and my charity work continued.

Over the last six months, I have raised money to help HANDS in Nepal a small grass-roots organization created by a young American Danny Chaffin.  HANDS in Nepal’s mission is to create educational opportunities and community development programs in rural Nepal by building schools, donating educational supplies, teacher’s salaries, and student scholarships.  I have done most of my fundraising work through the sale of beautiful, homemade Nepali goods such as pashmina scarves, yak-hair blankets, and purses and bags. Since May, I’ve sold over $4,000 of my Nepali wares and over half of that profit goes back to HANDS in Nepal (after taking in account the cost of the products, shipping and customs).  It has been a win-win opportunity as the sale of the products not only benefit HANDS in Nepal but also the rural, poor Nepalese people who are making and supplies these little treasures for me to sell.

I have also used my second annual yard sale as a way to raise money for HANDS in Nepal.  After scraping together all my old clothing and miscellaneous items that we no longer need, I was able to raise $540 for HANDS in Nepal.

Perhaps $540 sounds like nothing. Yet, it does make a difference. What does $540 do in Nepal?  This money can buy:

A composition notebook and pencil for 540 children.

-or-

Two school workbooks and a composition notebook for 108 children.

-or-

A school uniform and backpack for 54 children.

-or-

Chalkboard and teacher supplies for 10 classrooms.

-or-

A book set for 27 classrooms.

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Bench seating and work tables for 27 classrooms (approximately 40 children per room)

-or-

Almost enough for one teacher’s salary for an entire year.

-or-

A combination of some of the above items.

In a country where 82% live in rural communities and have little or no access to education, and the average daily salary is less than $2 a day, this small amount of money goes a long way in fighting poverty and helping educate Nepal’s future generation. With a literacy rate of barely over 50%, there is a long way to go. However, it is my belief that every effort, no matter how small, can help make the world a better place.

There is something so special and magical about giving back that just makes me feel complete and my hope is that I can eventually reach the $8,000 mark to build a new school in rural Nepal and have a lasting impact on an entire village and generation of people. It will take time of course to raise the money but with the help of my friends, family and children as well I plan to achieve it!

Photo above of Jan and her son Danny along with the children of the new school made possible by HANDS in Nepal. 

On the road again to Villa La Angostura

Set against the breathtaking backdrop of Lago Nahuel Huapi, Villa La Angostura or Narrow Village is named after its location on a narrow isthmus.  It is a sleepy, quiet town which receives much less traffic and tourism than Bariloche.  What a pity!  For it is a secret treasure of beauty and serenity and there are few others there to share it.

Located about 50 miles/81 km north of Bariloche, this hidden jewel is an amazing place to spend the day or night or couple of nights (if you have the time).  Like Bariloche, it is crammed with dramatic, spectacular scenery of the aquamarine Lago Nahuel Huapi juxtaposed against the craggy, snow-covered mountains in the background.  Combine the heavenly landscape with fragrant hikes along the beech trees and alluring views, trout fishing galore and all the boating you could desire, Villa La Angostura rated on the top of my list for perfect undiscovered travel destinations.

Of course we couldn’t go there just to look around (you can do that but not my dad and I who are highly energetic and very active people).  We had to find a hike!  Fortunately Villa La Angostura is full of hikes with sensational views to make it worth your effort.

The main nature lover’s paradise in town is the fabulous Parque Nacional Bosque Arrayanes which is home to one of the only arrayanes forests in the world.  Arrayanes are actually bushes not trees and can grow up to 66-feet high!  The trail is flat but long.  It takes 2-3 hours to walk and you can also do it by bike.  Unfortunately we didn’t have enough time to do the entire thing, however, what we did do of the trek was highly worthwhile.  The views along the way were absolutely stunning and perhaps some of the finest we had seen during our entire trip to Argentina.

Here they are….

Entering the small, quaint town.  What a lovely place!

The main marina at the lake….I love the bird soaring high above and the mountains in the back…WOW!

The entrance to the hike.  Note that my dad is wearing shorts.  He always wears shorts, no matter what.  Thus those earlier photos of him hiking in the snow in shorts, well that is a diehard Minnesotan for you!

Start of the hike….simply beautiful and inviting

My favorite picture from the trip…Springtime in Argentina!

Entering a wooded wonderland….

The gorgeous green-blue water as seen through the trees…..

Ahhhh….the Patagonian Lakes District in its finest!  Incredibly beautiful!

thirdeyemom taking it all in and enjoying the view…..

Sadly all good trips must come to an end.  This was our last day in Argentina.  A beautiful, perfect day.  We couldn’t ask for more.  Just that we could come back again…which we did in 2008.  Hope to see my beloved Argentina again soon!

Stay tuned….thirdeyemom is headed to her beloved Chicago this weekend to get together with an old friend and remember the years living there in the nineties as well as her big fat Chicago wedding in 2000!  Thought it would be excellent blogging material!  I love the windy city!

A visit to the heart of the Argentine Lakes District

The Argentine lakes district is a tourism haven, stretching from Junin de los Andes in the north to the town of Esquel down south bordering Patagonia.  It is beautiful territory awash with snow-capped jagged peaks, lush green forests, trout-filled rivers, and lots and lots of brilliantly blue lakes.  One could spend a full week or two just in this area checking out the beautiful towns and villages surrounding the Chilean and Argentine Lakes District.  It offers something for everyone year-round:  From hiking, golfing, fishing, and sailing to skiing and of course, world-class dining.  If you have the time, you can take a boat through the lakes region hitting towns in both Argentina and Chile.

We of course only had five full days to explore.  We were traveling once again, “American-style” meaning trying to pack as much in as possible within a short time frame.  Now this is not the recommended way to travel or the desired method either:  It is the kind of travel you do when you either don’t have much vacation time (in my opinion, most Americans fit into this category) or have a wonderful mother who has offered to fly into town and watch my one-year-old and three-year-old children for me while my husband is slaving away all day at the office to pay the bills.

Bottom line:  Beggars can’t be choosers.  I felt rather fortunate to be going to Argentina while my other mom friends were busy changing diapers.  It was a much-needed break from my day-to-day life of spending 24/7 taking care of two small children.  I was going to enjoy every moment of it!  Eating meals without scarfing it down in five minutes flat.  Sleeping in past 5 am.  Wait….sleeping all night long without being woken up by a crying child.  Bonus!  Taking a shower in peace.  Reading a book.  Talking to adults.  Hmmm…there is a lot I hadn’t been doing recently that I realized I truly was missing in my life.  Five days in San Carlos de Bariloche (or simply called Bariloche) was bound to save my withering, sleep-deprived, over-worked diaper-changing soul.

We arrived in Bariloche mid-afternoon after two hour flight from Buenos Aires.  San Carlos de Bariloche is the second most visited place in Argentina mostly due to its gorgeous location surrounding the Nahuel Huapi National Park which provides a nature lover and outdoor adventurer’s paradise.  It is not a large town yet has all the dining and adventures possible to keep the tourists and Argentine’s alike happy.

We took a cab the short ten-minute ride to town which is non-eventful except for its beautiful location next to stunning Nahuel Huapi lake, a gem in itself.  We had booked a hotel at the Design Suites thanks to the recommendation of one of our friends.  The hotel was a short distance from town yet the views of the lake and glistening snow-capped mountains was breathtaking and worth the walk.

Here is a picture looking out from our room at the dining and reception area of the Design Suites.  Our suite had a balcony which was perfect for drinking a glass of wine.  I could have stared at this sensational view all day long:

After checking into our hotel, we decided to check out the town and scope our dining selection for the night.  For such a small city, Bariloche has surprisingly excellent restaurants.  We ate to our hearts content each and every night of our stay.

The first night, we ate at a Swiss Fondue restaurant called Familia Weiss, a family owned restaurant that is known throughout the area for its delightful array of cheeses and smoked meats.  The German Swiss decor reminded me of being right back in Switzerland and the food was unbelievably authentic.  We ate the entire pot of cheese fondue stuffing ourselves silly while ignoring the tremendous amount of fat we had just put into our body.  We were on vacation right?  We’d work it off!

The next morning, feeling incredibly full from our highly saturated fatty meal, we rented a car to go do some hiking.  The car was delivered right to our hotel but to our dismay it didn’t work!  Luckily one of the friendly Design Suites staff was able to give us a jump-start and set us on our way.  I’d noticed that Argentina has its far share of broken down cars that littered the streets everywhere.  I didn’t want to become one of the numbers!

We headed north the short distance to the oldest and most popular national park in Argentina, Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi to do some day hiking.  Per Frommers (2004):

“The park is known for the glacial-formed Lake Nahuel Huapi and its lovely forested peninsulas and waterways that often provoke comparison to the channels of southern Patagonia or the fjords of Norway”.

After visiting Chile’s world-famous Torres del Paine National Park in 2003, I couldn’t wait to see Nahuel Huapi for myself.  Would it be as spectacular as Torres del Paine, a place that made me fall in love with Patagonia and dream of coming back?   

It was indeed stunning and spectacularly beautiful yet nothing in comparison to the rugged, wild Patagonian Torres del Paine.  I was disappointed for I was expecting Patagonia.  Yet Bariloche still had its beauty and charm.  Just a different kind of beauty that was more tranquil, serene and fresh.  For those people who don’t want or have the energy to travel all the way south to Patagonia, Bariloche and the other towns of the Lakes District make a reasonable choice.  The beauty will not disappoint, nor the amenities of having a town.

Here are some photos of our day hike in the Parque Nacional Nahuel Huapi:

After our visit to the park, we drove to the finest five-star resort in Bariloche, the infamous Llao Llao (pronounced “jow jow”) hotel.  It was stuffy yet spectacular in its own right with its wooden lodge styled resort and green golf courses.  Worth a visit but not somewhere I’d want to stay.

We headed back to our lovely, hip hotel and had some Argentine Malbec before heading out to our next dining adventure at a trendy, small restaurant called Kandahar.  We were the first to arrive at 8:30 pm to blaring Pink Floyd and a server who offered to pay for our $50 bottle of wine if we didn’t like it.  He was that confident and that right.  The food was outstanding, shocking me that such a small city could have such an amazing dining scene.  I couldn’t wait for tomorrow and even more so, tomorrow night’s meal!

Stay tuned…next post will document our attempt to really get some serious exercise and follow the Argentine’s at doing the major hike in town.

Remembering September 11th

September 11, 2001. A day we will always remember. A day that we will never forget. A day that changed our world as we know it. A day that made our lives never the same.

“First Pass, Defenders Over Washington” by Rick Herter.  The painting depicts Capt. Dean Eckmann in his F-16, as he was the first to arrive at the Pentagon.

A copy of this print is hanging in my sister’s Virginia home in honor of her husband who was one of the three pilots. 

Every American remembers where they were and what they were doing on that tragically fateful day.  It was a brilliant blue September day in Minnesota without a cloud in the sky.   Postcard perfect with a light breeze and a high in the love 70s.

A beautiful blue sky, September day that changed our lives forever.

It was past eight here in Minneapolis and I driving to work.  I had the radio on and was singing along to my favorite songs when a strange interruption broke me out of my reverie.  The DJ broke off the song, and life as I knew it changed forever.

Like everyone, I had no idea what on earth he was talking about.  There was so much confusion and chaos as the terrifying events of September 11th began to unfold.  All I heard was that some kind of “small plane” hit the World Trade Center.  There was no more news at the time.  I dialed my husband who was already at work to ask him if he heard. He didn’t know much more than me.  It wasn’t until I arrived at my office in Eagan, located directly across the Minneapolis-St. Paul International airport, that I would see for myself live on TV, the horror that was unfolding this nightmarish day.

I walked across the parking lot with a pit in my stomach and shortness of breath, took the elevator up to the cafeteria and there right before my eyes live on CNN I saw the plane smash like a giant fireball into the World Trade Center.  Without further thought, I turned on my heals, in absolute shock, and returned to my car where I called my husband and proceeded directly home in fear, completely unable to cry.

For the next two days, work was canceled (my husband’s downtown office was evacuated) while my husband and I sat terrified, motionless, and utterly glued to CNN as the events of 9/11 unraveled and the further confusion, chaos and attempted analysis went on.   The normally busy sky above the lake and our house was eerily quiet:  There were no planes for days as the entire nation’s airports system came to a startling halt.

Everyone was home and glued to TV.  It was the most horrifying, frightening time of my life and to this day, I can never rid myself of the infamous image of the plane slamming into the World Trade Center.  As much as I try to want to forget.  I’ll always remember.  The fruitless, tragic loss of innocent lives can not be forgotten or forsaken. The two wars that our country entered as a result of 9/11 and the war against terror can not be erased.  Our world as we know it will never be the same.  We will never feel safe.

Everyone has a story to tell that day.

My Mother was waiting in the Tucson, Arizona airport heading out to Virginia to visit my sister when she saw the first plane replayed across the TV.  The entire airport went into shock as the events unfolded right before their eyes.   Of course, knowing my mom was flying that day, I went into panic wondering if she was in the air.  With all the chaos, confusion and uncertainty, no one knew how many planes were going to go down.  By the time I finally reached her, she was hysterical but safe, waiting amidst the confusion at the airport.  Finally her flight was canceled and she went home, like me, in horror and confusion, trying to make sense of what was happening.  Life many others, she ended up packing her car and making the four-day journey across the country to reach my sister in Virginia, who was also in the heart of the situation.

My sister’s husband, Captain Craig Borgstrom,  was one of the few men that actually saw 9/11 from the air.  However, not in a commercial airline but in a fighter jet.  As a Captain with the Happy Hooligans, the Fargo North Dakota National Guard Unit that was based at Langley Air Force base in Virginia, he was one of three pilots that was called into a scramble into the air in a race to save the doomed jet headed to the Pentagon.  He arrived just after the jet crashed into the Pentagon looking down to see the terrifying, hellish fire burning at one of our nation’s most important buildings.  Had he been a few moments earlier, he would have been faced with the orders to possibly have to shot down a passenger jet, an act that surely would have remained within his soul for the rest of his life.

Needless to say, my sister was panicking not knowing where her husband was and whether or not he was safe.  Little did she know he would be one of the many 9/11 heroes (see article below from AIRMAN).

My husband and my father were preparing to depart on a week-long trip to Scotland.  Their flight was scheduled to depart a couple of days later and unfortunately the trip never happened.  Yet if it had, they probably would have been stuck there for days waiting out the reopening of the world’s airports.

I was scheduled to fly to Chicago on 9/13 where my office was based and I had a series of client meetings set up for the week.  Unable to fly, I packed up my car and made the seven hour drive from Minneapolis to Chicago, listening to NPR the entire way and watching the incredible display of patriotism across the roads as cars and buses drove by with flags and sayings printed across their windows.  Since no one could fly, the roads were packed and instead of the normal honking, rude driving and insanity, for once it seemed as if everyone had pulled together.  An accepted, unspoken calm and cooperation was felt wherever you went.

After those fateful days of confusion, chaos, horror and anger, we were finally faced with the long road to acceptance, recovery and redemption.  Slowly the planes began to fly and life kind of moved towards normalcy.  Yet every time I entered the airport to board a plane, it was obvious how much had changed.  How much we lost.  How the world would never ever be the same again.

Ten years later the memories remain as painful as ever.  Everyone seems to know someone who was lost in 9/11 or its aftermath.  Will the world ever forget?  Or do we even want to?  No.

My thoughts and prayers are with the many people who lost the ones they love in and as a result of 9/11.  May we always remember!  And let freedom ring.

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Article below from AIRMAN

http://airman.dodlive.mil/washington%E2%80%99s-defenders/

Pilots saw unique view of Pentagon burning – from 1,000 feet above
Story by Randy Roughton

Photo above of Captain Dean Eckmann

Fifty to 60 miles from Washington, the sky was so clear that 9/11 morning the F-16 Fighting Falcon pilots could see almost everything.

“It was almost like a North Dakota day,” Col. Brad Derrig said.

That morning, Derrig, then a major, and Capt. Craig Borgstrom were flying behind Capt. Dean Eckmann and were scrambled over Washington in response to the 9/11 attacks. All three fly with the “Happy Hooligans” in the North Dakota Air National Guard’s 178th Fighter Squadron, which stationed pilots at an alert detachment at Langley Air Force Base, Va. At that time, the detachment was one of North American Aerospace Defense Command’s seven alert sites designed to protect the nation against an attack.

As he approached the city, Eckmann saw black smoke rising above the Potomac River. But because the smoke was blowing his direction, he couldn’t see exactly where the fire was. He didn’t know it was at the Pentagon, where American Airlines Flight 77 crashed at 9:40 a.m., killing about 180 people, not including the hijackers. Before long, Eckmann would be looking back at his F-16’s missiles and wondering if he would be firing them sometime that day.

“Normally, in cities when you see smoke, it’s going to be gray or white – industrial-type smoke,” said Eckmann, who is now a lieutenant colonel with the Fargo-based squadron.

“From my years of experience in the military, black smoke is bad because it usually means fuel or explosives are burning.”

The detachment squadron was scheduled to fly a sortie against a couple of other Langley F-15 Eagles on 9/11. It was a typical alert, with the pilots mainly trying to be airborne with a less than five-minute notice. Derrig wasn’t scheduled to fly at all, although he was trying to work his way into the training sortie.

A klaxon horn sounded to let the pilots know they were on battle stations, so Eckmann and Derrig headed to their planes. The lights in the hangar changed from yellow to green to let them know of the scramble order at 9:24 a.m.

Borgstrom, the squadron’s director of operations at the time, ran to Eckmann’s plane as he was awaiting the scramble order and said he was supposed to fly as the third pilot. This surprised the other two pilots because in a scramble order for the detachment’s two F-16s, Borgstrom would serve as the supervisor of flying and would be responsible for keeping the pilots informed on the mission. With him in the air, there would be no operations officer left at the detachment. Eckmann directed Borgstrom to the detachment’s third F-16, which was unarmed because it wasn’t on alert status with the other two planes.

“Normally, the East Coast is filled with airplanes, big and small, on a daily basis. Flying that afternoon, the only airplanes that were up were basically military fighters and tankers. It was almost eerie, how quiet it was.”

The tower controller gave the order from the Northeast Air Defense Sector for the pilots to fly east for 60 miles, and the three F-16s took off 15 seconds apart by 9:30. As they flew, one of Eckmann’s wingmen learned their new coordinates, which meant they were headed to Baltimore.

“What it meant was we pretty much have priority over everyone, and civilian air controllers need to move people out of our way,” Eckmann said. “That was my first indication something serious was happening.”

Soon they were given new coordinates – to set up a combat air patrol over Reagan National. They set up the patrol over Washington by 9:45, and air traffic controllers notified Eckmann about a “couple of unknowns heading north on the Potomac River toward the White House.” From 25,000 feet, Eckmann headed straight to the aircraft, but quickly learned they were just a military and police helicopter headed to the Pentagon to assist.

Before long, Borgstrom relayed a NEADS message to Eckmann that the formation was directed to provide a battle damage assessment of the Pentagon. Earlier, Eckmann was suspecting a cruise missile attack from Russia, which had a long-range aviation exercise scheduled that week. Now he began thinking it was a truck bomb, similar to the bombing of the Alfred P. Murrah Federal Building in Oklahoma City that killed 168 people in 1995. Because of all of the smoke, it wasn’t until he was 1,000 feet directly above the Pentagon that Eckmann could see the building sustained a direct hit.

“We saw something that day that very few saw from the air,” Eckmann said. “That’s because once that happened, [the Federal Aviation Administration] shut down the airspace, and we were the only ones airborne.”

After flying over the Pentagon, Eckmann reported to NEADS that the building’s two outer rings were damaged in the attack. When asked his opinion of what happened, his best guess at the time was a large tanker truck because of the amount of flames and smoke. The pilots wouldn’t learn it was an airliner until after they landed back at Langley that afternoon.

They spent the next five hours intercepting unidentified aircraft above Washington. To intercept, the F-16 pilot approaches the suspect plane on the left wing since the captain on an airliner normally sits on that side. He makes visual contact with the pilot and gives him signals, then flies by and rocks the wing to signify for him to follow.

At one point, when Eckmann was on the radio with civilian air controllers at the Federal Aviation Administration’s Washington Center, Secret Service agents asked to speak to him. He received a short message: “We need you to protect the House.”

“I’m assuming that means the White House,” Eckmann said.

About 45 minutes after they set up the combat air patrol, Derrig saw a second view of the Pentagon on fire when he escorted a Lear jet carrying Attorney General John Ashcroft into Reagan National after the FAA had shut down all civilian air traffic nationwide.

“I had to fly over the Pentagon at a relatively low altitude, and I could see people on the ground working,” Derrig said. “Once I got back into the [combat air patrol], it was a sense of ‘All right. Now, we’ve got to protect these people.’ Our focus was on future attacks if future attacks were planned.”

Eventually, the pilots worked with F-16s from Andrews Air Force Base, Md., which set up a low combat air patrol over the city while the Langley formation maintained the high patrol. The normally crowded East Coast skies were uncharacteristically quiet, Derrig remembers.

“Normally, the East Coast is filled with airplanes, big and small, on a daily basis,” he said. “Flying that afternoon, the only airplanes that were up were basically military fighters and tankers. It was almost eerie, how quiet it was.

“When Andrews [Air Traffic Control] put out the statement that any aircraft into Andrews Class B air space will be shot down, I was thinking we’ve got the missiles. It wasn’t like we were out on a combat air patrol over Iraq or somewhere in Europe – it was within the United States. So that was kind of a gut-puller for me.”

The combat air patrol operation Eckmann and his wingmen started on 9/11 continued until the following April, when they went to more of a scramble and peak type of patrol, he said. When the morning began, seven sites were on alert with 14 airplanes, as there had been since NORAD reduced the number of alert sites in 1994. By nightfall, there were 40 to 50 sites with 200 planes, Eckmann said.

In a day filled with sights and sounds they thought they would never experience in their own country, one more remained when the pilots returned to their squadron.

“I remember I landed at Langley and taxied by the three squadrons of Eagles, and they were arming every flying F-15 on that base,” Eckmann said. “I’ve never seen so many missiles in one spot being put on airplanes. They were putting eight missiles on each F-15 at Langley. That’s another sight you just don’t forget.”

As Eckmann reflects on the 10-year anniversary of 9/11, the memories of the images he saw from his F-16 in a day that began with such a clear sky remain fresh and painful.

“Has it been 10 years already? For me, it will always seem like it wasn’t that long ago. I’ll have those pictures burned in my mind until the day I die – seeing the Pentagon burning from the air when I flew over it, and you knew people were dead inside, and people were suffering,” he said.

“Ten years later, we are still fighting the global war on terrorism. For me, it’s very personal that not only 3,000 people died in New York, but also approximately 180 people died right beneath me. I think about that often.”