25 Years After 9/11: What I Remember, What We Learned

Twenty-five years ago on Friday, I was asleep in my apartment on Capitol Hill while teams of terrorists were in the air overtaking four commercial airplanes. The United States was under attack, but most of us would not know that for sure until the second plane struck the World Trade Center.

At 8:46 a.m., American Airlines Flight 11 crashed into the North Tower. At first, it seemed possible it was a horrific aviation accident. Seventeen minutes later, at 9:03 a.m., United Airlines Flight 175 flew into the South Tower. 

Between those two crashes, my boyfriend, Rob, called. “Turn on the TV. There’s been a plane accident in New York City.”

I turned on NBC and started listening to Katie Couric and Matt Lauer on the Today show. Then, as millions of Americans watched, the second plane came into the frame. 

I threw on clothes, ran to my car, and headed to work. I was a producer for NBC’s Meet the Press with Tim Russert. Days off only lasted until there was major news, and it was immediately clear that this would be unlike anything we had ever covered, and the attack wasn’t over. 

As I drove toward the NBC studios in northwest Washington, American Airlines Flight 77 was moving toward the nation’s capital. At 9:37 a.m., it crashed into the Pentagon. Twenty-six minutes later, United Airlines Flight 93 crashed into a field near Shanksville, Pennsylvania, after passengers and crew fought back against the hijackers. Among them was 32-year-old Todd Beamer, whose words, “Are you guys ready? Okay. Let’s roll,” became synonymous with their extraordinary courage to fight with all they had when they realized their plane was a part of the terrorists’ plans. Investigators concluded that the U.S. Capitol was the intended target.

I arrived at a mobilized newsroom.

Reporters, anchors, producers, associate producers, stage managers, control room staff, editors, tape intake, librarians, and production assistants were all at work, each doing their part to cover the attack. Information was coming from government officials, law enforcement, aviation experts, witnesses, and reporters across the country. Experts were moving in and out of studios to explain live on television what we knew, what we thought we knew, and, more concerningly, what we did not yet know. 

I went in to see Russert in his office just off of the newsroom, working his vast network of sources. He had just reported an important detail about the attack: the terrorists had selected transcontinental flights, giving the planes large fuel loads that would make the resulting attacks even more devastating.

Even surrounded by some of the best journalists in the country, with access to senior government officials and information flowing from across Washington, there was a terrible powerlessness to the day. We could report what was happening but nothing could change what had already happened or bring back the people we had lost … nearly 3,000 killed. 

Late that night, I finally headed home. I took Rock Creek Parkway along the Potomac River, past the Kennedy Center and the Lincoln Memorial. As the road curved, just across the river, the day’s events were right there in the sky: large, swirling clouds of black smoke still rising from the Pentagon, backlit by emergency lights. After everything we had reported and witnessed on continuous video that day, from New York to Pennsylvania, terror had also come to our city. 

When I made my way back up toward Capitol Hill, police lines were blocking access to my neighborhood. My driver's license, with my address, allowed me through and back home.

In the months and years that followed that terrible Tuesday, the country would begin the difficult work of understanding what had happened, what had failed, and what needed to change.

What We Learned

There are many more stories I could tell from September 11, 2001. But 25 years later, one of the lessons I think about most often is what happened afterward.

The United States made a commitment not only to understand who attacked us and why, but also to understand where our own systems had failed.

The 9/11 Commission would ultimately identify serious problems with command, control, and communications. Even the Commander in Chief experienced communications failures that day, with calls aboard Air Force One dropping and limited access to real-time information. Agencies had information that others did not. Communications systems did not always work together. Decision-making structures were fragmented. At critical moments, the people who needed to be communicating with one another simply could not.

Those lessons helped fundamentally reshape how America prepares for and manages major incidents.

In 2004, the federal government established the National Incident Management System, or NIMS, creating a common framework so that government agencies, first responders, emergency managers, and other organizations could operate together during an incident. At its core is the Incident Command System, or ICS, a structure that had existed for decades but was now incorporated into a nationwide approach to emergency management.

And tucked inside that structure is a role every strategic communicator should understand:

The Public Information Officer.

The Incident Commander leads the response. Operations manages the tactical work. Planning collects information and anticipates what comes next. Logistics gets people and resources where they need to be. Finance and Administration tracks costs and administrative needs. The command structure also includes Safety, Liaison, and Public Information functions. FEMA continues to provide specific training for these positions, including the Public Information Officer.

Communications is a critical part of the response.

The person responsible for communicating with employees, families, the media, stakeholders, and the public needs access to the people making decisions and to accurate, current information. That person needs to understand what is known, what is not known, what is changing, and what people need to know next.

And there needs to be one coordinated source of truth. That may sound obvious today. It wasn't always. And 25 years after a day that demonstrated the devastating consequences of fragmented information and disconnected systems, it is a lesson worth remembering.

When a crisis happens, communications is about helping people understand what is happening so they can make decisions, protect themselves and others, and know whom to trust.

For me, those lessons have stayed personal. Throughout my career as a strategic communicator, I have served as a Public Information Officer (PIO) during numerous incidents, including a 2014 university residence hall fire, severe weather events, and a natural gas leak. The discipline of incident command, and the clearly defined role of the PIO within it, has been an important part of how I approach that responsibility.

The tragedies of September 11 taught our country lessons at an unimaginable cost. Carrying those lessons forward is one very small way I can remember what that day taught us.