Not just another Tuesday...

We have promised we will never forget.

It is so hard to believe that it was six years ago today that we started receiving the most unbelievable calls in our USAA Claims Department. We had not heard the news as it had just happened. I remember seeing droves of people in the hallways crowded around the televisions, and I knew it must be something big. However, our manager instructed us, the New York City Claims Unit, to stay by our phones and take every call. The phones, which usually rang all day, had become eerily silent. We were told that a bomb had hit the World Trade Center in New York, and that we would most likely be getting calls soon. We imagined, as we had not seen any images, and were told not to get on the Internet or leave our desks to look, that we'd be getting calls about damaged cars, clothes, etc. from smoke and/or sprinkler systems. We had no idea.

The initial calls were from people at payphones on the street, who had called the 1-800 line at USAA. They were frantic and crying, and were surrounded by chaos, dust, and screaming. They were asking us to contact their family members to let them know they were safe. What does it say about a company when in a person's darkest hour, he or she thinks first of calling USAA for help? I have always been proud to have worked there, but never more proud than during the few months following 9/11.

It was a few days later that I was chosen, along with my good friend and coworker Danny, to be on the World Trade Center Catastrophe Team. Being chosen for CAT Duty was a huge honor. There were seven of us. The work schedule was 7am to 7pm, 7 days per week until the job was done. I didn't realize at the time that it would be (by far) the hardest work assignment I would ever accept.

It was all run like a special task force. We quickly invented a coding system to indicate USAA members' whose family members were "missing," and those who were killed that day. We learned the streets of the city and huddled over highlighted maps and grids, reviewing New York City websites as more and more neighborhoods were being deemed "uninhabitable" every hour. We memorized street names, complexes, and area terminology to better service those who were calling. We followed every press release and internet report regarding everything from death toll to air quality reports.

In addition to hundreds who were working in the World Trade Center that day, USAA also insured the pilots and co-pilots of all three planes. We covered many passengers on those flights as well. USAA insured almost the entire Secret Service, whose building was completely leveled in the collapse, and dozens of employees at the Pentagon. We replaced their suits, shoes, bikes, office furniture, and vehicles parked beneath the buildings. We took calls from wives, outlining claims lists to include their husbands' briefcases, watches, clothing they had on that morning, etc. Parents claimed some of their children's belongings from luggage on the flights. It was heartwrenching to listen to them call out lists of material things that were lost. In most cases, we just took their word for these claims and values. Most were very thankful, but also very apologetic. They didn't want to be doing this. The fact is, they just wanted their loved ones back, but knew they desperately needed the financial relief too.

These people needed hotel rooms and there were none. They needed clean water and there was none. They needed hope and many times there was none. We offered money, information, tears and a listening ear. Our phones rang off the hook, and sometimes we felt helpless. Some had tiny newborns and children with asthma trying to find clean air or room in hospitals that were overflowing. One by one we helped families settle into hotels or temporary housing, and receipts began to pour in for mattresses, toothpaste, socks, diapers, food, etc. Most had no job as they had lost their offices and some had lost lost entire teams of coworkers as well. They had no idea how long it would be before they'd have income again. We soon started sending reimbursement checks for suits and dresses as they began to attend funerals, sometimes several a day.

As a company, we offered the maximum amount of coverage we possibly could and paid the claims quickly. Other insurance companies did not. Again, I was proud. I felt so good about the work USAA was doing to help these families. As many Americans felt so helpless, I felt lucky that I was in a role where I could actually do something. I just could not imagine what these people were going through. Their stories were heartbreaking. I remember one of the young widows called to tell me that the FBI had found her husband's college class ring in the rubble. She asked that I remove this ring from her claims list, but that I keep her husband on the "missing" roster because she and her family were still holding out hope. I teared up and told her like I told the others, "Of course. Please keep us posted."

My most memorable letter was from New Yorker Maggie Quinn - a true survivor. She had been fighting cancer for over a year and had not been to work in over six months. On Monday, September 10th, 2001, she had been given a clean bill of health from her oncologist and released to return to duty at the U.S. Secret Service. She went back to work for the first time that next morning on September 11th. After the attacks, her escape was dramatic. It was so inspiring to read the letter she wrote about how God had spared her life - two days in a row. A year later, on September 11th, 2002, she wrote me another letter about how she is living out God's purpose in her life.

During that time, many of us had nightmares. Some simply could not sleep. I, like others on the team I later found out, was becoming totally obsessed with 9/11 coverage. I could not get enough. I watched hours and hours of news coverage every evening after work and scanned the Internet into late hours of the night. On our lunch breaks, our manager Ed had to MAKE us stop scrolling down memorial websites as we recognized some of the families with whom we had spoken, and for whom we had cried and prayed. We'd cry on the phone and cry more when we hung up. We'd cry when we got home. Jeff would try to get me to stop. " Why are you putting yourself through this? It's not healthy. You have to get a break from this." It felt like if I stopped watching it, that I was not honoring that it had happened and that people were still missing. I sometimes felt like Americans were already forgetting. I could not understand that. It was weird. I was angry, and grieving, and could not separate myself from it. We talked about it on the team, so USAA brought in professionals and we shared in grief counseling together. We knew we'd all eventually find a "new normal" and would return to healthy everyday living again. At our own pace, each of us did.

I remember that right after the CAT assignment, my focus on my own problems had virtually disappeared. My stresses seemed so incredibly trivial. The United States felt so small, and New York City seemed so close. My heart swelled with patriotism. Like millions of Americans, I promised myself I would not forget that feeling. I was among those vowing to live each day as if it were my last.

I got an e-mail this morning. It was from Danny, who still handles USAA Claims from New York. It read, "Today is still difficult for me. I always think of you on this day. Working on that CAT team is still one of the hardest things I have ever done. I hope you are doing well." I had been thinking of him too.

We all have a story about where we were on September 11th, 2001. I figured writing it down would be the best way to keep from forgetting mine. Someday, we will tell Jack Everett about what happened that day in our country. I have promised myself that I will remember these wives, children, and parents whose lives changed so dramatically one September morning.

To them, it started off as just another Tuesday. Today, it's much more than that to them, and it's more than that to me.