I was working for CPS in an ongoing services unit. I was late for a training on secondary trauma that day and the kids were cranky, so I left the radio off and sang songs with son #1 to pass the commute. Hubby had opened the private investigations firm, son #1 was almost 4, and son #2 was 7 months old. #2 was dropped off at the babysitter's, and her husband- who spoke more English than she did- had it on the tv. I thought a fire had broken out (due to a bomb or some such) at the Empire State Building and felt very sad. I took #1 to preschool 2 miles away and ran into the director. I asked if she knew about the fire, and she said, "It's not the Empire State Building. Planes crashed into the World Trade Center and one of the towers fell." i nearly vomited from horror and ran to my truck to turn on the radio. I sat there for about 10 minutes listening to Peter Jennings catch me up on what little we knew at that point. Finally, I started the truck and drove to a hotel at I-10 and Silber for the training. I pulled in and shut off the ignition, but couldn't bring myself to turn off the radio.
And then, Peter Jennings said, "Oh, God, the second tower." I could hear it falling in the background and leaned my forehead on the steering wheel. I finally gathered some strength and went into the training. The speaker stopped, and he and everyone else looked at me expectantly. I told them the second tower was gone, and nobody said anything for several seconds. Then the trainer kicked back in and we talked for a few minutes before continuing the training. Almost all of us ate lunch right there in the hotel's restaurant, where every tv was on the news. I don't remember a whole lot about the afternoon, but I know I spoke to my husband at some point, and after the training was over, I got the kids and went straight home. I remember seeing Lillian Garcia cry as she sang the National Anthem, and I remember John whassisface (used to be in The Acolytes) say that he hoped we turned the country of whoever did this into a parking lot.
And I remember thinking the next day, as I was driving to work, how eerie it was to drive by Hobby Airport and not see any planes taking off or landing. That day, I was back at the office by the Dome, and 4 of us went to the church attached to my son's preschool at lunch that day. No service, we just sat in the sanctuary quietly and lit candles. That night, I called my Dad, the former active-duty Marine who served in the Pacific in WWII, and he said, "We'll get 'em."
For anyone who doesn't know, secondary trauma is a therapeutic term. When someone experiences a trauma- rape, assault, battle, etc- they are experiencing primary trauma. They're involved in it, and it's directly affecting them. Secondary trauma is felt by the practicioner, helper, nurse, neighbor, whoever, that is helping the victim through the trauma. That feeling of being wiped out or upset or having your mind whirl after your sister breaks down on your shoulder because she just found out her husband's been cheating on her with numerous women. The trauma didn't necessarily affect you directly, but you are involved in the process of dealing with it. That's what we were trying to learn about in Houston while all that was going on on the east coast.
