We were conducting routine flight operations off the balmy coast of Southern California — in the distance stood the coastal mountain range of Santa Ana where the blistery, dry winds blew from deep within.
On that gray September day, I woke up like any other, and switched on the remote to see whether the Atlanta Braves still remained on top of the National League and whether the Chargers would start Drew Brees or Doug Flutie as quarterback during the regular season.
Strange, I thought, as I started my morning ritual of shaving, brushing, and dressing. One of the twin towers was hit by an errant airplane. What kind of idiot would do that?
In the wardroom, I polished up my continental breakfast while participating in the obligatory morning gossip with friends.
“What’s up PAO (Public Affairs Officer)?” The yellow-shirted flight deck officer chuckled as we bumped fists.
“Not a thing, Shooter. Hoping for a slow day and a nice weekend in port. Got lots of tours, but also time with my four-year-old son. How are your catapults doing?”
“Well, we’re flying, aren’t we? We got lots of steam enough to launch a MAC truck a million miles.”
“Super, save some steam for my DVs. So, I hear the Chargers are finalizing on a starting quarterback. Do you think Brees will fly or go down the Ryan Leaf road?”
[DVs or Distinguished Visitors is the Navy program to expose community members to the role of an aircraft carrier. The DVs are flown aboard the plane and spend a night on board before taking off again the next day]
“Nah, Brees is quality stuff man. Still can’t get over the Bolts picking Leaf over Hasselbeck. I’ve got a lot of hope pegged on this year, though.”
“Aha, gotta run. Got a big tour to plan this weekend — Navy Leaguers and VFW.”
A small cadre of junior officers from both the ship’s company and air wing created a weekly “fantasy football wing” aboard the carrier. It took a lot of work sometimes following the performance of each player, but it built camaraderie, and these were the same officers that I worked with regularly when hosting distinguished visitors for a 24-hour visit to watch carrier flight operations out at sea.
I grabbed a mug of java and then made my leisurely stroll across the hangar bay to my office on the second level of the ship’s island to start the day’s work of planning media visits and shipboard tours. As the newest aircraft carrier in the west coast, we had a plethora of inport tour requests from veterans groups to students, some requesting specific things to see. But every tour, no matter what the scope or size stopped in the Stennis Room to honor the living legacy of Senator John C. Stennis, the Statesman who served in the US Senate for 41 years and coined the ship’s mantra: “Look Ahead.”
By this time, I had almost forgotten all about the World Trade Center. When I arrived at the office, my entire division of three journalists and a Senior Chief Petty Officer were already there, but instead of reading email or editing the ship’s paper, their eyes were glued to the TV. The second tower was now ablaze and the sky all around southern Manhattan was filled with a huge plume of smoke.
From that day on, our lives were instantly shattered and perpetually changed. On November 12, 2001, the USS John C. Stennis (CVN 74) deployed to the coast of Afghanistan in support of Operation Enduring Freedom.
As we left the San Diego harbor, Janine Zúñiga from the SD Union-Tribune along with a cadre of reporters stayed onboard to capture last words before we headed to harm’s way.
“Stay safe Chito. Hope you guys hunt down Bin Laden,” Janine said giving me a warm embrace. Hope to see you back soon.”
And before the Santa Ana disappeared on the horizon, Janine and the rest of the team boarded a C2 Greyhound and strapped in backward while the COD (Carrier Onboard Delivery) launched into the SOCAL sunny sky.
* * *
It was May 2, 2011. When I returned home late after studying for my Entrepreneurship and Innovation class finals with my industrious GWU classmates, I was shocked beyond comprehension. I flicked on the news to see jubilant university students and a throng of mostly young people celebrating in front of the White House. They popped champagne corks, climbed trees, and swung from lampposts. Whoa, what happened? Did D.C. finally get the monkey off their backs and win a playoff series? Many were still in sports jerseys embracing perfect strangers regardless of team loyalty. They had stepped out of a Washington Capitals playoff game and would be out here celebrating till the wee hours of the night. Revelers waved American flags and chanted “USA, USA!”, celebrating the heartwarming news from President Obama that Bin Laden was killed in a firefight.
Ecstatic Americans had stormed Lafayette Square as if it was V-J day all over again. I was overjoyed to witness an outpouring of patriotism and devotion for our country displayed by the college-aged crowd—the generation that was just kids when 9/11 struck. These Millennials will be around—raising our flag—a lot longer than the Boomers for the rest of this eventful tumultuous, 21st century.
Despite it being finals week, no exam was more significant or impactful. I felt that it was imperative that I had to be physically in front of the White House to witness history being made. Everything else played second fiddle. This was our version of the falling of the Berlin Wall. Would it mark a pivotal moment in history during the Global War on Terror?
As I snapped pictures on my phone, I noticed a DM from Janine Zúñiga, who was still working at the Union-Tribune. She was reporting on the event and searching for a quote.
Naturally, I was happy to go on record and it was a big closure to the tragic events ten years prior.
I also knew that I was way overdue for a reunion. Back in December, I made a pact with Janine and her husband, Jari, that I would visit them to run the San Diego marathon and they would do the same in D.C. So I purchased a one-way bus ticket west, hoping to make it a multi-trip excursion — I had a lot on my plate, a lot of goals to accomplish, and I kept my eyes steady on the prize.
