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John Jagler
Friday, September 08, 2006
“You were the guy that told me.”
I did the first break-in of a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. I was co-hosting Wisconsin’s Morning News. For many of our listeners, that broadcast made me the first person who told them that something was terribly wrong in New York on that terrible day. Every once in awhile, someone will still come up to me and say, “You were the guy that told me.”
Being the first to report a story is usually a rush in this business. Breaking news stories are opportunities to shine, and for many radio reporters there is no better feeling than breaking news early and accurately. I have been through many breaking news events in my 18 years in this business, but for me, the terrorist attacks of 9-11 clearly stand out as the most difficult.
That day was the first and only time in my life, I didn’t want to be, “the guy.”
Capital “J” journalists cringe when I tell them this, but I just wanted to go home. I wanted to be with my wife and kids and to protect them. I wanted the day to be over and to feel safe again.
Of course I didn’t rush home, as my instincts were telling me to. I realized my place was here, behind the microphone, helping people understand what was happening. It’s just that for the first and only time in my career, I wasn’t relishing the task. That’s what I remember the most about September 11th.
That feeling did not let up one year later when I accepted an award on our station’s behalf for our coverage that morning. Maybe that’s why it’s an award I don’t display. For me, it has only served as a vivid reminder of what happened to our country and the world on September 11th.
But now, five years later, as I reflect back, I am proud of the job we did covering the terrorist attacks. Listeners still compliment me on the professionalism of the staff, and how in spite of the difficulty of the content, we were able to provide them with the information they needed.
Maybe some day I’ll pull out the awards we received for our coverage…
But, please, just don’t remind me that I was “the guy."
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Charlie Sykes
Friday, September 08, 2006
I didn’t believe it was really a terrorist attack until the second plane hit the World Trade Center.
Who can ever forget where they were or the shock of that moment? The sheer world-rocking horror. I was standing in the programming office at the radio station, watching the image on television, a notebook in my hand, filled with possible show topics for a world that had just been obliterated in a ball of fire and smoke.
Who can forget how the events rolled out that morning; as tragedy mounted on tragedy; rumors multiplied; the fear, the uncertainty (how many planes?); and the realization that we had been attacked, that this was our own Pearl Harbor?
That did not seem an exaggeration that morning as we scrambled to understand what the attack meant: how many people were in those towers? How many Americans might die? Had that many Americans ever died in a single day of war?
My generation lived through the Kennedy assassination and the explosion of the Challenger. But this was what our parents saw on December 7, 1941… except we saw it in real time. We saw people dying. We knew others would die within minutes.
Even as it was unfolding, we knew that this was a pivotal moment, one of those dividing lines of time where everything that comes after assumes a new shape and a new meaning. Sometimes we only recognize epochal shifts after the fact: but five years ago we recognized it as it happened.
I remember being impressed by the professionalism of the journalists around me; the way they separated any personal feelings from the need to carefully and accurately report the day’s extraordinary events. They knew what was required of them and they delivered; and in those early hours, those first few days, that was what we saw throughout the country.
Terrorists intend to terrify. But Americans weren’t terrified. They were angry and they were determined. And they did their duty. If the terrorists had thought the country would descend immediately into panic and hand-wringing, they were disappointed. But I think Americans were also surprised by the America that responded that day. It was an America we had forgotten about: the firefighters, the cops, the rescue workers… a whole new generation of heroes for a country that had come to think that it didn’t need heroes, that heroes were passé, too macho, too chauvinistic.
For a moment, it really did bring us together.
Of course, it didn’t last. On my show, I talk a lot about America’s short attention span, but I have to admit that on September 11, even I couldn’t have envisioned Michael Moore, MoveOn.org, or the surging, poisonous anti-Bush hatred of the coming years.
Before September 11, 2001, we had spent a decade sleep-walking through history, so maybe it shouldn’t have been surprising that so many Americans were so quick to embrace the emotional comfort of denial and amnesia. But this is an anniversary that can’t be denied or forgotten; even five years later it still feels raw, the images still shock, the memories are still fresh, and the threat remains a daily reality.
Everything is different. On this day, five years ago, everything changed.
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Jeff Wagner
Friday, September 08, 2006
December 7, 1941 was a defining moment for my parents and almost everybody else of their generation. The Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor was, quite simply, the event that changed their lives.
As a result of the events of December 7, 1941, millions of men went to war (and many never returned). As a result of the events of December 7, 1941, millions of women entered the work force (and never left). As a result of the events of December 7, 1941, America’s foreign and domestic policy was shaped for decades.
As a baby boomer, I’ve lived through some very interesting times. I’m a little too young to remember the Cuban Missile Crisis and I only vaguely remember the birth of The Beatles and the Summer of Love. I do however distinctly recall the Viet Nam War, the first Gulf War, the oil crisis, the Iranian hostage crisis, Watergate and hundreds of other challenges that Americans have been confronted with over the last few decades.
Nothing in my life experience though prepared me for September 11, 2001. The terrorist attacks of that day are to me what the attack on Pearl Harbor undoubtedly was to my parents. Put simply, September 11th is the day that my life (and everyone else’s life) changed forever.
Some of the changes have been minor, like longer waits at the airport and additional scrutiny when going through Customs. Other changes have been major like the commitment of troops to fight the war on terror in foreign lands (and the resultant loss of life). Some of the changes have resulted in divisions in the American house as we debate whether there is even a need to fight a war on terrorism and, if so, how best to do so?
Five years later, I still grieve for the innocent lives that were lost in the cowardly attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. I continue to marvel at the bravery of the firefighters and police officers in New York who ran into danger while everyone else was running the other way. I also remain in awe of the courage of the ordinary citizens on United Flight 93 who sacrificed their lives so that terrorists would not be able to kill other ordinary citizens.
Just as my parents had to know that their lives were forever changed by December 7, 1941, I know that life will always be different because of what happened on September 11, 2001. Hopefully, out of the tragedy and horrific loss of life, we’ll figure out a way to ultimately make the world a better place to live. If we can somehow do this, we’ll be giving the victims of that terrible day the ultimate memorial.
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Jonathan Green
Friday, September 08, 2006
I took my little one to 1st grade in the Harley Sidecar; it was a beautiful morning to be riding. Afterwards, I went to Okauchee Post Office to check my PO Box, following my normal routine. There, I ran into Keith, an Okauchee volunteer fireman who told me about the World Trade Center plane crash and he invited me around the corner to the firehouse to see the TV coverage. By the time we arrived, the second attack had taken place leaving no doubt that a terrorist attack had been perpetrated. It was interesting to listen to the few firefighters who were there talk about how they envisioned the rescue and how to put out the fire. That the buildings would crumble and fall was not foreseen.
After a while I felt compelled to go home and did...about a 20-minute trip. My wife and I watched in disbelief as the buildings fell. It was early in the day. My program didn't start for hours but I felt I had to be at WTMJ. I felt I had to do something although I didn't know what. In fact, everyone at WTMJ was doing a great job of coverage and THEY didn't really need me at that time, but I needed to be there so I left for the station. I don't even remember one thing about what I did at WTMJ that day. I just did my job as best I could, I guess. That day at WTMJ was for reporting events.
Odd for me though, was that I had the rest of the week off because my little one had a surgery the next day at Children's Hospital, and I wanted to be available during her recovery time. This, however, took me out of the journalistic environment and made me a spectator. I was unfulfilled in that role, but I was also occupied with my innocent, little first grader's surgery and in protecting her from any concern about what happened to America that day. Her recovery went well and that Saturday I had an opportunity to do a phone-in talk show about 9-11 for 3 hours. I needed to be involved. I benefited from the experience. WTMJ's audience benefited from our talk shows on those days following 9-11.
Radio is the ultimate communicating experience. It's us and you, the audience…unscripted, unrehearsed, and impromptu. My goal is usually to make you laugh, but at times like this laughter is not appropriate. At times like this we need each other, and radio provides the link. I am gratified to be a part of it.
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Phil Cianciola
Friday, September 08, 2006
“Be careful out there today, Phil.”
It was a morning like any other for me. My wife Sandy headed out the door to work, reminding me to be careful on the daily training ride I was about to take.
The sun was out.
It was warm.
My wife backed out of our driveway, and I headed down to the cycling room to change.
I would wear a short-sleeved jersey and hmmm, which bibs should I wear, the black ones or the blue ones?
Those were the most important decisions I had to think about that morning.
Moments later, I was on my bike without a care in the world.
It was 26 miles of head-clearing sunshine.
While taking in the ride, I didn’t have a clue that jets were going into buildings…that chaos had hit New York and that more would be coming.
When I got home, I changed clothes and flipped on WTMJ Radio hoping to catch a newscast and to hear the day’s weather forecast. To my surprise, what I got was a special report about one of the trade towers falling.
I remember thinking, “What the hell is going on here? Is this for real?” Then I ran to the living room tv to actually see it. It was, indeed, all too real.
As a radio guy, something inside you kicks in and you think about what you should be doing in a situation like this. But then it occurred to me: There’s NEVER been a situation like this. Not in my lifetime. This, I told myself, is like Pearl Harbor.
I knew I had to do something, so I headed downtown and phoned in a report. I went to the tallest building I knew of, what is now the US Bank building, and I talked to some of the people that were leaving,
Right after the report a friend of mine, a former WTMJ Radio employee, John Baas pulled up in his van on the street next to me and said, “Nice day for the end of the world, huh?” That exchange is one of the most surreal things I remember about that day.
The thing I remember most about 9-11 was the aftermath. There were hours and hours of continuous coverage on the air. I felt the emotion of it all, but had to hold that in check while talking about the events on The Green House. Then, I’d go home and watch the coverage on television. I couldn’t get enough information about what happened.
Lastly, I still remember weeks later when it all had sunken in to some degree, and we needed some normalcy again on the show. As a guy who most enjoys making people laugh when I am on the radio, I had been without that for a long time. Finally, I let a joke loose on the air.
We were doing a story about VP Dick Chaney being in the bunker when all this was unfolding. After reading the story I cracked, “Yeah, I mean if I ever need a pacemaker I want what that guy’s got. If THIS didn’t push him to the brink then that’s some good stuff he’s got in there.”
At first, it felt almost strange to joke around on the show. But then it felt really good because it was NORMAL again. I remember getting numerous e-mails from listeners who loved the joke and basically said thanks….thanks for breaking the ice and making it OK to laugh again.
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