Ten years ago today, TWA flight 800 left JFK Airport in New York City bound for Paris. At around 8:45 PM the Boeing 747 exploded off the coast of Long Island, not far from East Hampton. A decade has past, but I remember that day all too well.
The company I was working for at the time was in the middle of a downsizing plan for the engineering department I worked in. The way they were working it was that they were having everyone "reapply" for their jobs. For weeks since the plan had been announced, it was frankly hard to get anything done. The whole place was paralyzed with speculation. It was also a time to explore what you really wanted to do, since they were planning on offering a buyout plan. There wasn't much conversation on any other subject.
Around 9:30 PM (or close to that hour) on July 17th, my phone rang. It was my Mother telling me to turn on my TV right away. As I went over to the set my Mother asked, "What flight was your sister taking to Paris?" My stomach turned when I saw the special report graphic. I had no idea what flight she had been planning on taking, I only knew she was flying to Paris that night.
After calming my Mom down as best I could, I tried reaching TWA. Needless to say, that wasn't really successful. The lines were completely tied up and I never did talk to anyone. I didn't know what else to do, so after a while I went to bed. I didn't sleep real well, though.
The next day, I kept trying to get through to TWA, I finally did get to talk to someone who told me no manifest was available but did take down my contact information with a promise to get back to me as soon as they could. I tried reaching my Sister's secretary, but she had taken some time off while my Sister was going to be in Europe. Nobody at her firm knew what flight my Sister had planned on taking, or what airport she was going to fly from. Nobody had any idea where she was staying in Paris, either. They told me they'd try to track down her secretary, though.
Needless to say, it was a completely unproductive day at work. And by the end of the day, I still knew nothing about my Sister. Mom was frantic, so I had to keep calming her down, all the while holding my own fear in. I didn't get a lot of sleep that night, either.
The next day, I was pretty groggy from lack of sleep, but partway through the day, my phone rang. It was my sister's secretary letting me know that My sister had NOT been on flight 800 and was staying at a little hotel she favored because it didn't have a phone in every room. I called Mom, who broke down crying with relief. I felt like crying and laughing at the same time. I think it was later that night that my sister called me. She hadn't even heard about flight 800 since she hadn't been reading the papers or watching the news.
Anyway, after that, it was a lot harder to feel any tension over the downsizing plan. I just went with the flow. My wife and I found new jobs, took the buyout and moved West.
A decade past and it's still clear.
