“Welcome to the bog, welcome to the trees,
A kiss and a cod and whatever’s in between
To the ones who’ve left; you’re never truly gone
Our candle’s in the window and the kettle’s always on” – Come From Away Finale
My sister Jen and I recently had the good fortune to see Come From Away at the gorgeous Elgin Wintergarden Theatre in Toronto. Who would have ever thought that the words heart-warming and 9/11 could ever co-exist? Yet that is just the spell this musical casts on many who experience it. I for one had a visceral and cathartic reaction and must apologize to my dear sister for the unexpected and on-going torrent of sobs that escaped me throughout. I could not remotely help myself it seems.
You see, I am a “Come From Away.” On a bright and sunny September 10, 2001, I flew into St. John’s, Newfoundland, to participate in a two-day provincial in-service to support a textbook we published at Oxford University Press for a Grade 12 World Issues course (which now seems strangely apropos). On 9/10 I spent my free day hiking up to gorgeous Signal Hill, perched on the Atlantic Ocean. And as per usual, I had my (then) film camera with me and documented my adventure. As you can see in my collage of photos below, it was a calm and brilliant day.
However, the day following this lovely hike, 9/11 as the day is now called, was anything but calm. Our in-service, taking place at The Airport Hotel, was interrupted early in the morning with word of a plane flying into the World Trade Center in New York. Many of us in the room believed it could only be a Cessna or small plane and so continued our work. Not long after, we heard the unfamiliar sound of many, many planes landing on the runway behind our hotel at the St. John’s Airport. During the morning break we all walked outside and were met with the unbelievable sight of many passenger jets criss-crossed across the tarmac. We knew then something was very, very wrong
We spent the next few hours huddled together around a TV in the hotel’s restaurant, watching in stunned silence as the North and South Tower burned. We witnessed the horrible sight of people leaping to their deaths, and cried in unison as both towers fell one after the other.
I have written about my 9/11 experience before as writing about it seems to help. I wrote this post on the 10 year anniversary and today it is the most raw piece of writing I have shared. The events of that day, that week stranded in St. John’s, seem to be seared into my very being. Not unlike the story that unfolds in Come From Away, those of us who were stranded that week shared a desperate, desperate need to get home. To be with family. To be surrounded by love. To be assured our world wasn’t about to come to a fiery, apocalyptical end.
I remember as if it was yesterday walking out of the hotel and calling my parents on my cell phone. I wanted to assure them I was ok. My Mum answered the call and was clearly upset. Through tears she said
“You tell your boss you are walking home!”
It is startling how that intense need to get home returned so easily watching the musical unfold, bringing with it an unexpected stream of tears. Yet the greater theme of hope and human compassion springing out of darkness also brought tears of pride and so much relief. You see, I too was treated with extreme care and kindness that week in Newfoundland. The teachers that I shared 9/11 with knew I was far from home and likely missing family. On 9/12 our in-service continued. When I arrived back at the Airport Hotel, Evelyn, the teacher who sat beside me when we watched the towers fall, brought me fresh baking and said:
“We know you are missing your family today. Let us be your family.”
Gulp!
If you find yourself in need of a reminder of what human kindness looks like, I would urge you to go see Come From Away, watch the documentary on the making of the musical or read the captivating book “The Day The World Came to Town” upon which the musical is based. You will leave each experience feeling a renewed sense of hope in humankind!
“Newfoundlanders are a different breed of people,’ Gander town constable Oz Fudge told me. ‘A Newfoundlander likes to put his arm around a person and say, ‘It’s going to be all right. I’m here. It’s going to be okay. We’re your friend. We’re your buddy. We’ve got you.’ That’s the way it’s always been. That’s the way it will always be. And that’s the way it was on September eleventh.” – Jim Defede, The Day The World Came to Town