10 years later

The Anniston Star â&#x20AC;¢ Sept. 11, 2011 â&#x20AC;¢ 1G

IN MEMORY The Anniston Star

9999

&EJUPS #PC %BWJT CEBWJT!BOOJTUPOTUBS DPN t 4VOEBZ 4FQUFNCFS t 1BHF 9

The day that changed america september 11 | 2001â&#x20AC;&#x201C;â&#x20AC;&#x160;2011

The Anniston Star

Page 2G Sunday, September 11, 2011

— WHAT’S INSIDE —

THE DEPOT: A decade later, the depot slows down | Page 3

PATRIOTISM: Old word takes on new meaning | Page 4

PEARL WILLIAMS: J’ville mother honors memory of son | Page 5

WHERE SEPTEMBER NEVER ENDS: At McClellan’s Center for Domestic Preparedness, memory of 9/11 is always fresh | Pages 6–7

Mark Lennihan/Associated Press

A test of the Tribute in Light rises above lower Manhattan, Tuesday in New York. The memorial will light the sky this evening in honor of those who died 10 years ago.

UNITY 9/11 brought us together ... we thought an essay By Liz Sidoti Associated Press

9/11 SCARS: Muslim Americans face uphill battle after terror attacks | Page 8

— ONLINE —

See The Star’s original 9/11 coverage from 2001 online at Annistonstar.com

— CONTRIBUTORS — Brian Anderson Laura Camper Matthew Creamer L.E. Forster Stephen Gross Ashley Hall J.C. Lexow Tim Lockette Laura Johnson Matt Korade Patrick McCreless Richard Raeke Angela Reid Nathan Solheim Cameron Steele Trent Penny Bill Wilson Cover: AnnaMaria Jacob

WASHINGTON — We were one. Or so it seemed — for a while, at least. “America is united,” President George W. Bush proclaimed a decade ago after the horror that terrorists wrought. And it felt that way. Not Republicans. Not Democrats. Just Americans clinging to one another as we coped with the attacks on our freedom, on our security, on our way of life. We mourned together, raged together, resolved together. But it wasn’t long before the perception of a united America gave way to the reality of division. Political polarization became the norm. And partisanship, gridlock and a loss of faith in institutions returned in force. As diverse as it is, is this country capable of being truly united? And if we were, would that really be a good thing? Americans come together spontaneously or, perhaps, instinctively at times of tragedy and trauma. We always seem to be on the same page when it comes to our core principles. We want America to be free. We want America to be secure. And when those tenets are violated, watch out. Consider the aftermath of the bombing of Pearl Harbor and WWII, perhaps the last time the nation was — or, rather, felt — truly unified. That is, until 60 years later when war came to America again. In the days after Sept. 11, 2001, there was almost unanimous support for going after al-Qaida, an anomaly for an American public that usually agrees on little. We wanted to win, to make the bad guys lose. At the end of the day, al-Qaida was not targeting Republicans or Democrats. It was killing Americans. And Americans on the whole wanted to fight back. But was that unity? Or was that simply a hunger, a yearning for it in a nation whose motto for nearly two centuries was the Latin “e pluribus unum” — “Out of many, one”? Whatever the answer, it was rare — and fleeting. Ten years later, our politics are a lot like they were before 9/11. And, perhaps, worse. Americans, and the leaders we elect, struggle to find common ground, if they’re trying at all. At a time when so many hunger for it, is unity anything more than a passing thought? We face enormous, decades-old problems. Our willing work force can’t find jobs. Our housing market is weighing down a fragile economy. We face mounting debt threatening to crush generations ahead. Our safety net — Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid— is in critical condition. Our schools drastically lag behind those of other nations. Conventional wisdom would say it’s frustrating, maybe even sad, that our leaders can’t seem to come together to fix these woes — no matter which political party is in power. But it’s also totally understandable. A diverse nation of people with vastly different ideas can never truly be unified. And here’s something else: Maybe, just maybe, it shouldn’t be. Doesn’t a healthy democracy depend on dissenting viewpoints? And don’t controlled disagreements make us who we are? Wouldn’t actual unity prevent growth in a nation whose best times have come with — or come from — great change? Yet if unity is unattainable, disunity can be toxic. Just look at this summer’s debt debate. It further soured an already surly American public on the ability of the federal government to work, much less solve the nation’s problems. Nevertheless, there are moments when we’ve

spoken together as much as is possible. The period immediately after Sept. 11, 2001, was one of them. The following weeks saw Congress pass bipartisan measures to create a Department of Homeland Security and give law-enforcement agencies sweeping search and surveillance powers over U.S. citizens. And Americans across the ideological spectrum supported their leaders. But not indefinitely. That one-nation feeling started unraveling within months as the sense of unity gave way to our differences. Political polarization rose, not just on Capitol Hill but in communities across America. So did anger, particularly over the Bush White House’s reasoning for pre-emptively attacking Iraq. And although many expected it, we didn’t get hit again. But we also didn’t catch Osama bin Laden or crush al-Qaida quickly. So, predictably, Republicans and Democrats starting seizing on that reality to try to gain power. “I have no ambition whatsoever to use this as a political issue,” Bush said in January 2002. That same month, White House political adviser Karl Rove urged Republicans to make the war on terrorism central to the fall congressional elections, saying: “We can go to the country on this issue.” After the 2002 election, a Pew Research Center survey showed that partisan polarization had reached a new high as both Republicans and Democrats became more intense in their political beliefs. That helps explain why the 2004 presidential race so split the country. The campaign was centered on 9/11, national security and questions of character. The partisan polarization persisted well into Bush’s second term. By January 2006, Rove was vowing to again make the “war on terror” a central campaign issue, saying: “Republicans have a post-9/11 view of the world. And Democrats have a pre-9/11 view of the world.” It didn’t work. Democrats swept back into power, taking control of both the House and Senate. The country was divided, and bitterly so. Then came Barack Obama. He stoked the notion of unity from Day One of his presidential campaign with these words: “In the face of a politics that’s shut you out, that’s told you to settle, that’s divided us for too long, you believe we can be one people, reaching for what’s possible, building that more perfect union.” Obama, a Democratic senator from Illinois, invoked the 9/11 attacks, spoke to our common principles and, perhaps, seized upon our yearning for unity, saying: “Politics doesn’t have to divide us on this anymore — we can work together to keep our country safe.” People flocked to him. His message resonated. And he won the presidency. As Obama took office, the nonpartisan Pew polling institute found that public expectations for partisan cooperation were as great as they were in January 2002. But that feeling didn’t last, either. As Americans mark a decade since Sept. 11, 2001, who among us thinks that the nation today is one of unity, of a single sense of purpose? In May, as he announced that American forces had killed bin Laden, Obama re-summoned that spirit. “Tonight,” he said, “let us think back to the sense of unity that prevailed on 9/11. I know that it has, at times, frayed. Yet today’s achievement is a testament to the greatness of our country and the determination of the American people.” And, for a few hours, most of the United States of America again felt united — even if we never really were, even if that’s a notion that a seething, bubbling, contentious democracy of 300 million people can never really achieve.

The Anniston Star

Sunday, September 11, 2011 Page 3G

A decade later, the depot slows down By Cameron Steele

lion in total sales revenue the depot generated in fiscal 2010 — including revenue from pubCalhoun County’s livelihood lic-private partnerships — came has long been connected to war. from the sale of combat vehicles Ten years after the Sept. 11 or parts to foreign countries, attacks that spawned the wars depot public affairs officer in Afghanistan and later in Iraq, Clester Burdell told The Star in an economic recession and the March. looming end of those wars means That’s a small percentage, but decreased work at Anniston one that’s growing. Army Depot. “We’re doing more work for And decreased work at the foreign militaries. It’s becominstallation — which employs ing one of the bright spots,” Hill more than 7,000 people, includes said. Meanwhile, Sumners has a payroll of more than $400 milbeen spending time working with lion and has an estimated $1 leaders in D.C. and serving on billion economic impact on Calthe Alabama Military Stabilizahoun County — has local officials tion Commission, an organizaconcerned. tion recently created by the state “The concern is you don’t Legislature to work with all of the know the impact, but you cerAlabama military installations in tainly know there’s going to be the face of tough economic times. an impact … from the ending The commission met for the first of the wars and the economic time on Sept. 1, Sumners said. recession,” said Nathan Hill, the The chamber president said military liaison for the Calhoun the new commission is a good The Anniston Star/file County Chamber of Commerce indication of the importance ABOVE: Workers refurbish Stryker vehicles recently at the Anniston Army Depot. and Army officials. the state government places on BELOW: A building at the Anniston Army Depot on Sept. 11, 2001. The future impact may be installations like the depot. unforeseen until the end of the “The depot is absolutely vital fiscal year, when the federal gov- surges as well as the core skills to the economy of our county, ernment decides on the budget, the region and even the state,” needed to operate efficiently. which carries a potential of $600 Sumners said. “If you fall below that core billion in cuts to the DepartIn addition to the billionlevel, you risk losing that compement of the Defense. But in the dollar economic impact to the tency and skill,” she said. meantime, Army officials have county, Sumners pointed out At the height of the wartime approved 550 early retirement the depot indirectly affects more efforts, when the depot was probuyouts at the depot for fiscal than 25,000 businesses in the viding refurbished and repaired 2011 and 2012 to help cope with region. Strykers and armored personnel the already decreased workloads. carriers to Iraq and Afghanistan, “So, if the depot cuts back, it The depot’s “proactive peraffects them,” she said. “It’s not the direct-labor hours topped out sonnel management measures just us.” at 5.5 million, Hill said. such as the retirement incentives To those who would criticize In the years following the Sept. reduces the possibility of any the county’s economic reliance 11 attacks, 500 more workers — future layoffs,” depot chief of staff most of them temporary or term on the depot and the military Phillip Trued said in an email. sector in general, Sumners takes workers — were hired, everyone “As the war winds down we a practical stance. worked overtime, and there was a are seeing a reduction in our “Yes, we would love to diversteady stream of vehicles coming workload in the coming years,” sify more and more,” she said, to Anniston for repair. said Michael Burke, the general “but there just aren’t a lot of big Burke said workload at the manager of production operalocations right now. depot increased by almost 300 we’ve grown and grown,” Hill Sumners and Hill both have been tions at the depot. “And we are “You need to dance with the percent from 2002 “until the said. “So, even without the budworking with depot officials to working closely with our headone you brung.” point it peaked in 2008.” get cuts, you’re now pulling out mitigate the slow-down at the quarters to identify work that can That attitude is helped by At that point, the total operat- of the two theaters of war; you’re depot. fill those voids.” chamber and depot officials’ ing budget for the installation already looking at a naturally Two new installation facilities Hill and Sherri Sumners, the strong collective belief that the was $1.26 billion, Burke said. decreased workload.” dedicated to work on engines chamber president, pointed to installation will be around for “Our workload for all comHill’s job at the chamber is to and transmissions are recent visthe buyouts and host of other decades to come — through bat vehicles increased during head off those “natural” decreas- ible efforts to beef up the depot’s chamber initiatives as ways to surges and slow-downs alike. the timeframe as we produced es and other fallout that may workload in times of peace. keep the installation’s direct“I feel good about the future record numbers of vehicles — the come at the end of the year. And “We’re not seeing as many labor hours from falling below M1 Abrams and Stryker were two in addition to her work as Cham- vehicles coming in, but certainly of the depot. I feel bad about the 3.5 million in the current down current reductions,” Hill said. of our biggest programs,” he said. ber president, Sumners recently their components need and will years. “But as long as we have a military And after Sept. 11, 2002, small took on another job focused on continue to need work,” Hill said. Sumners said that level and as long as we have an Army, arms production at the depot minimizing economic fallout A renewed focus on foreign of work will help installation we’re going to have an ANAD.” increased, too. from the impending closure of military sales is another effort to employees maintain the skills Contact Star staff writer Cam“We’ve had such a good work- the chemical weapons incinboost production. Currently, 7 they acquired during the wartime load for the past 10 years and eron Steele at 256-235-3562. erator in Anniston. As a result, percent of the nearly $867 milcsteele@annistonstar.com

Impact of 9/11 still felt By Jennifer Agiesta and Jennifer C. Kerr Associated Press

WASHINGTON — A decade later, what happened on Sept. 11 still resonates for much of the country. Even more Americans now say the horror of that day changed their lives. A new poll by The Associated PressNORC Center for Public Affairs Research in Chicago finds that more Americans today say Sept. 11 had an impact on their lives than said so five years ago — 57 percent compared with 50 percent in 2006. As the nation prepares to mark the 10th anniversary of that haunting day, the chilling events that unfolded in New York, Washington and Shanksville, Pa., still evoke a stir of emotions for everyday Americans — from anger and shock at so many innocent lives lost to patriotism and pride in the heroes who emerged on hijacked planes and in the rubble of fallen skyscrapers and a shattered Pentagon. Ten years later, we are a nation changed — moving on, but still changed. Lisa Schmidt, 48, of Vancouver, Wash., thinks about Sept. 11 “just about every day” and almost every time she sees a plane. “The intensity of thinking about it, and confronting the thought of it, still is very uncomfortable and I didn’t know anyone who was killed or injured,” said Schmidt, owner of a marketing company. “It was a defining moment for how Americans define tragedy.” For some people, like Susan Garrison of Carthage, Tenn., her fear of more attacks keeps her away from airports. “I will not fly,” said the 54-year-old Garrison, even with stepped-up security. She said she hasn’t set foot inside a plane since Sept. 11. “These people are the types of people who would get jobs in airports. If they want to kill people, they’re going to do it.” Almost one-third, 32 percent, of those polled said they are concerned about becoming a victim of terrorism or having a family member harmed in an attack. That’s down slightly, though, from 38 percent in 2004. The poll also found Americans are less angry about having to fight a war on terrorism than they were a few months after the attacks — 57 percent say so now compared with 67 percent then — and worries about how the war on terrorism might affect daily life have faded since the days after Sept 11. In the AP-NORC poll, broad majorities said Sept. 11 changed everything from

the policy and spending decisions of our country’s leaders — 94 percent and 90 percent, respectively — to the unity of the American people. Eighty-eight percent said it brought us together. Soon after the attacks, the U.S. government was transformed with the creation of the Homeland Security Department, the Transportation Security Administration, the National Counterterrorism Center and a slew of other centers and government committees dedicated to keeping the country safe. Sept. 11 also changed the way we talk to our children. Conversations about “stranger danger” or “stop, drop and roll” have now been expanded to include delicate discussions about “people who don’t like us” and why we have to take our shoes off in those sometimes too-long airport security lines. Fifty-five percent of the people polled who have children 10 and under said they have talked with their sons and daughters about what happened on Sept. 11. For the other 45 percent, the subject had not come up. Rhonda Weaver, a 42-year-old attorney from Brandywine, Md., said she first talked about it with her 11-year-old daughter a few years ago. The child had come home from school asking about the attacks and why people would do that. “We just told her that there are some people who don’t like the way we live,” said Weaver. “They see us as an enemy and they did that as a way to kind of get back at us and make us feel weak.” Weaver said she has not yet talked about the attacks with her 8-year-old son. Ken Kreitner, 64, of St. Louis, was among the 89 percent in the poll who thought the attacks had an impact on the economy. “We had to restructure just about everything we do in this country today,” said Kreitner. “It’s cost us billions and billions of dollars to set up safeguards for travel in this country. That alone had a major impact on our economy.” For Kreitner, a Vietnam veteran, Sept. 11 was a day that changed the country. “It’s the first time in the history of our country that an act of terrorism of this magnitude ever took place. People finally got mad and they wanted something done about it,” he said. “Anyone with any sense at all realized our country would never be the same again and that we were not only going to pay with lives the way we did, but we were going to be paying for it probably for the rest of our lives.”

In memory of those who sacrificed so much on 9/11/2001

The Anniston Star

Page 4G Sunday, September 11, 2011

Nathan Solheim

— I remember —

J.C. Lexow/The Anniston Star/file

A crowd gathers in the Alabama Power Company showroom to watch live coverage of the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks.

T he silence: 9/11 made it all the way to Anniston

S Trent Penny/The Anniston Star/file

A hummingbird gets a drink of water from this feeder in Jacksonville as Old Glory waves in the background on Sept. 12, 2001.

PATRIOTISM Old word takes on new meaning By Laura Camper lcamper@annistonstar.com

Patriotism conjures up images of flags and Fourth of July celebrations, but some locals say it’s more than that — it’s loving and honoring the ideals this country was founded on. After the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks on the twin towers in New York, the Pentagon and on the United Airlines Flight 93 airplane forced down into a Pennsylvania field by passengers fighting their hijackers, the outward trappings of patriotism could be seen everywhere. Ken Rollins, member of the local chapter of the Vietnam Veterans of America, remembers that after the attacks, flags were sold out at all the stores in town. “You started seeing them all up and down my street,” he said. “Used to be, they would have flags of lilies and flags of sunflowers and NASCAR flags and now there’s American flags up and down there.” It’s something he credits to being hit in the gut. Before the attacks, Americans couldn’t remember being attacked on their own soil, and the heroic reactions from police, firemen and just ordinary citizens awoke a pride in the country. “I don’t know if it’s patriotism so much as it’s appreciation,” Rollins said. “The people I talk to, and again I’m in the veterans circle so I hear a lot of people talk a little bit different language, but we have a great appreciation for those that wear the uniform.” The Rev. Randall Reeves of First Baptist Church of Saks, which is having a commemorative service on the anniversary at 10 a.m, agreed. The attack brought on a surge of patriotism as well as brought people back to church, but that wasn’t a lasting reaction. “Tragic events seem to bring out a renewed interest in things of the Lord and religion,” he said. “But those are short-lived.” It’s something Reeves has seen many times in his work. The events bring out a need to reach out to others and to bond with people close to them, and the attack also caused a surge of patriotism. April Fausnaught, a local resident and Jacksonville State University student, called it a defensive reaction. “We get wrapped up in our own problems and then we’re surprised,” she said. “It was a wakeup call.”

She and her friend, Danette Toole, were sitting at a table in Java Jolt in Jacksonville doing homework, their books spread across the table. The event was a turning point for the country, they said. Marcelline Barry, who was sharing lunch with her husband, Hubert, at the Hardees in Jacksonville, said it seems like tragic events bring people together. She noticed it after Sept. 11. She noticed it again after the April 27 tornadoes. It reminds people of their vulnerability. “Our shield had been taken away,” Rollins said. “All the police and all the Guard and everything else just couldn’t protect us as we had come to believe.” But it also reminds people of their interconnectedness. Nita Walker of Birmingham stopped to talk while having lunch at the Hardees with her daughter, a student at JSU. People remember where they were when they heard the news, she said, what they were doing because it was so shocking and horrific to them. She said she was at work when she first heard the reports. “One of my coworkers had a small television,” Walker said. “I remember everyone gathered around that small, itty bitty television in amazement and shock.” The attack reminded them that they were all Americans. They all had something in common to protect, and differences in politics, in opinions didn’t seem so important, Walker said. Hubert Barry noted that the vast majority of Americans stood behind the war effort when the war in Iraq began. “They wouldn’t have done that without what happened,” he said. Of course, that feeling went away over the years, as real-life issues intruded on ideals, but that didn’t mean that patriotism had waned, said most of the people interviewed. “Just because we don’t see American flags doesn’t mean it isn’t there,” Toole said. “It’s in our heart,” her friend Fausnaught finished for her. The event may have brought out visible signs of patriotism, but it only magnified what was already there, they said, and the lessons learned will be remembered on this 10th anniversary. “I think everybody will do something in school,” Toole said. “Even on the radio, they’ll say, ‘Let’s take a moment.’ Lord, this’ll never be forgotten.” Contact staff writer Laura Camper at 256-235-3545.

“We get wrapped up in our own problems and then we’re surprised. It was a wake-up call.” — April Fausnaught, Jacksonville State University student

ept. 11, 2001, was my day off. Lying in bed that morning, my thoughts were on a surplus auction at McClellan that day. The idea was to get some cheap Army surplus for my place. I hadn’t turned on the TV or radio because, in the news business, a little silence and stillness can keep you from going crazy. And besides, Mike Mote over on WHMA still hadn’t gotten over the Alabama-UCLA game. The phone started ringing. I knew it was someone from The Star. I didn’t exactly feel like solheim working on my day off, so I let it ring a few times before reluctantly answering. It was The Star’s thenmetro editor Anthony Cook. “Nathan, this is Anthony. Have you heard?” “Heard what?” “A plane just crashed into the World Trade Center,” he said. I could hear in the background that the office was completely alive. At that time of the morning, it wasn’t supposed to be that alive. “So?” “They’re thinking it might be terrorists,” Anthony said. I could hear a twinge of annoyance from a man who possessed the patience of Methuselah. “We’re trying to get everyone we can on the story. It’s all hands on deck,” he said. “Does that mean you want me to come in?” “That would be nice …” Dial tone. I dragged myself out of bed and arrived at the old Star building on 10th Street. I entered the side door directly into the newsroom in time to see the second plane hit the World Trade Center live on TV. I heard several people gasp. I sat down at my desk and looked up to see Anthony standing in

front of me. He gave me my story assignment, but as he walked away he mentioned something that finally made me grasp the importance of the day’s events. “The last extra we did was for the Kennedy assassination.” I looked around and saw many of my colleagues trying to get updates about friends they knew in New York. Some people were crying. Others were silent. Others focused on their jobs. I tried to work on my story but wound up reading the AP Newswire for hours. Later, I found myself staring at a TV screen with John Fleming — then the Editorial Page editor. “You know,” he said, “Don’t go jumping to conclusions about who did this.” His point was that there could be several perpetrators. People forget Oklahoma City was only six years prior. But even then, I thought it had to be terrorists. They’d bombed the World Trade Center before. I fielded several calls from people asking if the Army was going to reopen Fort McClellan. I got an answer — probably from someone at the Joint Powers Authority — and started telling callers it wasn’t going to happen. There were questions about the Anniston Army Depot and the security of the chemical weapons stored there. I chased down a lot of rumors that day. Some time that afternoon, I walked outside and looked toward 10th Street. There wasn’t any traffic. I looked over at the Alabama Power property next door and saw no activity. I don’t remember what I wrote about or if it made the Extra edition, but I do remember the silence — the eerie stillness of it all — and the realization that 9/11 made it all the way to Anniston. Nathan Solheim worked at The Star from 2000-2005. He’s now the managing editor of DU Today, the University of Denver’s online news website.

Calhoun County Commission... Remembering 911

Commission Office 1702 Noble Street Suite 103 Anniston, AL 36201 Phone: 256-241-2800 We ask that you take a look at what Calhoun County has to offer...with our beautiful parks and residential neighborhoods, quality museums, superb recreational facilities, and magnificently restored historic sites. Our citizens enjoy a high quality of life, and strongly support the arts and entertainment. If you are considering expanding a current business or starting a new business venture, look at Calhoun County - you will be glad you did!

www.calhouncounty.org

The Anniston Star

Sunday, September 11, 2011 Page 5G

Jâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ville mother honors memory of son Dwayne Williams was killed in 9/11 Pentagon attack

said. â&#x20AC;&#x153;One woman said to me, â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;If only I had something tangible. Even if it is a piece of the Pentagon.â&#x20AC;&#x2122;â&#x20AC;? Pearlâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s voice broke for a second. â&#x20AC;&#x153;I have a piece of the Pentagon,â&#x20AC;? she said. â&#x20AC;&#x153;But I am also By Cameron Steele blessed that I had enough of my csteele@annistonstar.com sonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s remains to give him a proper military burial.â&#x20AC;? JACKSONVILLE â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Ten years Since her sonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s funeral, Pearl has transformed the front room said, she has discovered other in Pearl Williamsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; house from a blessings through community living area into shrine. Pictures of Army Maj. Dwayne outreach efforts in Dwayneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s memory. Williams line The Army Rangerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s name lives the wooden on through various monuments table next to the erected all across the state, a couch. citizenship award at Kitty Stone A dusty Elementary school and a scholarAmerican flag ship at Jacksonville State Univerfolded into a sity. His brother Roy, a journalist triangle acts as for the Birmingham News, wrote a centerpiece of a book about Dwayne and the another table terrorists attacks that took his life. against a wall. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s titled: 911, God Help Us. Instead of d. Williams Pearl also spends time givpretty bowls and ing speeches at elementary glass figurines, a rugged chunk schools about the 9/11 attacks, of concrete rests next to the flag. something she feels passionately Yes, a decade has passed and itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s about because, she said, many of changed the shape of what Pearl Williams values most: A chipped- the children she speaks to now werenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t even alive on that dark off piece of the Pentagon is her day. touchstone now. â&#x20AC;&#x153;I think remembering is â&#x20AC;&#x153;When Dwayne got assigned to the Pentagon, I thought he would important,â&#x20AC;? Pearl said. â&#x20AC;&#x153;And people tend to forget how 9/11 be OK,â&#x20AC;? Pearl said. â&#x20AC;&#x153;I thought, affected all of us. My son gives â&#x20AC;&#x2DC;I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have to worry about Dwayne going to war.â&#x20AC;&#x2122; Sometimes Calhoun County, where many people in the community knew Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;m still shocked thinking about him, and the state of Alabama, it.â&#x20AC;? that connection.â&#x20AC;? Thinking about the 9/11 terA memorial held each year rorist attacks, that is. Dwayne Williams, the oldest of at the Jacksonville City Cemetery helps to reconnect county Pearlâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s four sons, was inside the residents with Dwayneâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s memory Pentagon when a hijacker flew a and the memory of all those who plane into the building. lost their lives. That ceremony For 10 days after the attacks, is special to Pearl; itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s played a Pearl didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know whether vital role in her personal healing Dwayne was dead or alive. Durover the past decade. Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s why ing a recent interview at her she decided to stay in Calhoun home, the Jacksonville woman County for the 10th anniversary gazed at the broken piece of the Pentagon she keeps on the coffee of 9/11 rather than attend the special memorials planned in table. Washington. On Sept. 21, 2001, Army offiâ&#x20AC;&#x153;I thought it was important cials notified Pearl that her sonâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s for me to be here,â&#x20AC;? she said. â&#x20AC;&#x153;This remains had been found. Ten years have not taken away yearâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s memorial service is going to be a little bit different. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the pain of that moment, but going to have a theme: Healing Pearl said sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s learned to feel and Remembrance.â&#x20AC;? blessed. Contact Star staff writer Camâ&#x20AC;&#x153;Some victims never found the eron Steele at 256-235-3562. bodies of their loved ones,â&#x20AC;? she

September

Super Sale!

Photos by Trent Penny/The Anniston Star

ABOVE: Pearl Williams looks at a display honoring her son recently in the living room of her Jacksonville son. BELOW: Williams holds a photo of her son on Sept. 11, 2001.

All Softique Carpets

50% TM

Off

12 Months No Interest Financing t )JHIXBZ /PSUI t "OOJTUPO t "OOJTUPO #VZ"CCFZ DPN 4IPXSPPN IPVST .POEBZ 'SJEBZ t 4BUVSEBZT

Page 6G Sunday, September 11, 2011

The Anniston Star

Sunday, September 11, 2011 Page 7G

Where September never ends At McClellan’s Center for Domestic Preparedness, memory of 9/11 is always fresh By Tim Lockette tlockette@annistonstar.com

Noble Army Hospital’s emergency room hasn’t seen a live human patient in more than a decade. But it’s about to get more beds, an expanded waiting room and a new front entrance. Once the primary health care facility for a major Army post, Noble is now a hospital for robots. Almost every week, doctors here treat scores of mannequins — mannequins that bleed, mannequins that moan in pain, mannequins with green foam around their mouths. For the doctors on hand, the rush of patients is sometimes more than they can handle. That’s the point. “We can stress them here pretty easily,” said Rick Dickson, gesturing around a small, tiled waiting room that seems straight out of the 1970s. “But we need a facility that looks and operates more like a 21st century hospital.” Dickson is the assistant director for training for the Center for Domestic Preparedness, a $62 million-per-year Homeland Security training facility tucked away on the site of the former Fort McClellan, an 18,000-acre Army post that was closed in the late 1990s. The CDP, as it is known, is at the heart of the post-9/11 “new normal.” In the wake of the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, local governments and lawenforcement agencies took on a new role. In addition to responding to everyday crimes and accidents, emergency responders started planning for catastrophic events, such as chemical attacks or pandemics. For most people, the changes have been pretty much invisible. A metal detector at City Hall, a side entrance that was locked 10 years ago and never opened again. Mass-casualty exercises that shut down a college dorm or government office for a day. Police officers who disappear into anti-terrorist training,

The fictitious town of Northville is where the first responders train.

and come back talking about the need for more awareness. The CDP is one of the places those officers disappear to. A place where first responders go to think about the unthinkable.

‘Not if but when.’ In the CDP’s main building, inside a big glass case, there are reminders of past attacks on America. A piece of metal from the USS Arizona, sunk at Pearl Harbor. A slab of concrete from the federal building in Oklahoma City. A shard of steel from the World Trade Center. It’s a reminder of how far the nation has come since the days after the Sept. 11 attacks. The air here is full of statements that seem to be straight out of 2002. “It’s really not a question of if a catastrophic attack occurs,” Dickson said. “It’s a matter of when.” But then, that was the saying here long before Sept. 11. The CDP got its start in 1998, when Fort McClellan was closing, and mass-casualty terrorist attacks were largely the province of Hollywood screenwriters. Dickson, a retired Army military policeman, has been here since the center was founded – as an obscure government agency that owned two buildings and trained hundreds of police officers in four disaster-response courses. “We were fortunate that there are a few people in government who can see around corners,” Dickson said. “There were people who had the foresight to see this threat before the public did.” After Sept. 11, the CDP’s growth exploded. The center owns the former Noble Army Hospital — now dubbed the Noble Training Facility — where doctors, nurses and hospital administrators tend to a hospital full of “dying” robots. It also owns “Northville,” a simulated town of gray cinderblock buildings, where trainees in chemical warfare suits practice evacuating mannequins after a simulated chemical attack. Hard by Northville is a white, windowless building where trainees suit up for “live agent training.” In other words, they don chemical gear and pretend to rescue people in a room filled with poison gas. The exercise is make-believe, but the gas in the room – Sarin or its deadlier cousin, VX — is real. Officials at the center say they train 82,000 emergency responders every year — 11,000 at McClellan and many more at training events around the country. The CDP offers 55 different courses, on everything from pandemics to suicide bomb attacks. Emergency responders come here from all 50 states, and they stay on the CDP campus in dormitories that once housed non-commissioned officers at Fort McClellan. Homeland Security officials say the CDP would have a reason to exist even if the Sept. 11 attacks hadn’t happened. They point to hurricanes, tornadoes and the threat of pandemic flu as reasons to train responders to be ready for disaster. But it’s clear the center owes much of its growth to the attacks. In fiscal 2001, the CDP trained 2,500 people. In fiscal 2002, it trained 14,000 — and the numbers have grown steadily since. And the federal government picks up the tab. CDP officials say that once trainees are selected by their local police agencies, Homeland Security pays for

their transportation and lodging. “It’s a good deal for local governments, especially in times like these,” said Shannon Arledge, spokesman for the center.

‘This baby … will die’ Every major war comes with its own set of absurdities. Destroying the village to save it. Taking the hill and giving it back. The fictional, but strangely realistic, Catch-22. The CDP has more than its share of dark ironies. There’s the Teddy Bear Room, where students learn to do triage by examining dozens of stuffed bears, each with a list of symptoms tied around its neck. There’s the Field Force Extraction class, which teaches responders how to remove nonviolent protesters who’ve chained themselves to each other — an odd fit, for a facility focused on disasters. And there’s the child-size mannequin in a hospital bed at Noble, its fate already scripted. (“This particular baby, in this scenario, will die,” Dickson said. “Not everybody lives, and that’s part of the training.”) But don’t expect to hear anybody joking here. Officials at CDP say every bit of the curriculum makes sense if you understand the scale of casualties from a chemical or biological attack. Even in the wake of Sept. 11, Dickson said, most of the doctors who train here don’t initially understand how catastrophic such an attack could be. “When doctors talk about mass-casualty incidents,” Dickson said. “They’re usually talking about a bus crash with 26 passengers. When you talk about hundreds of people showing up at your door with contaminated clothing, that’s a completely different situation.” Even the civil-disobedience training fits, CDP officials maintain. “Terrorists can take advantage of all sorts of situations,” Dickson said, noting that the 2012 political conventions, which are sure to draw protesters, may also become targets for terrorists. Police need to be able to handle those complex situations, he said. All of this is delivered with a deadpan seriousness that seems to come straight out of a Cold War nuclear bunker. And that mood is everywhere here. The guards are friendly, but with a hyperalert, watchdog stare. In every other hallway, there’s a picture of an accusing finger, and above it the words “Display your badge.” Ask CDP workers why they’re so single-minded, and they’ll tell you about Wayne Rhatigan, the New York police officer who foiled a bomb plot in Times Square last year. He was trained by CDP. So were some of staff at St. John’s Regional Medical Center in Joplin, Mo., a hospital that rode out a devastating tornado earlier this year. “I think people are vulnerable to complacency if they aren’t in the business of dealing with these threats on a daily basis,” said Chistopher T. Jones, superintendent of the center. “Our students are dealing with the threats.”

Normal It may not hurt to be in a place where the “new normal” is, well, normal. The danger of chemical weapons is nothing new here: for 40-plus years, Anniston was home to one of the biggest

Photos by Bill Wilson/The Anniston Star

Trainees at the Center for Domestic Preparedness take part in a simulated chemical attack at ‘Northville,’ a mock village on the CDP campus at McClellan. Wearing chemical suits and oxygen masks, the trainees collect mannequins strewn about Northville and clean them at a makeshift decontamination facility. It’s one of several life-like disaster-response scenarios available to police officers, firefighters and medical workers at CDP, a $62 million-per-year Homeland Security training center. chemical weapons arsenals on the planet. Hundreds of local residents worked in highly secure chemical weapons bunkers, and everyone had a friend or cousin or uncle who donned a chemical warfare suit daily at work. Heather Hollingsworth is the 21st century incarnation of your uncle with the chem suit. By day, she works at Noble, where she dresses in medical scrubs and maintains the mannequins that populate Noble Hospital. At night, she takes EMT courses at Gadsden State. Oh, and one other thing. “I’ve trained with live agent 170 times,” she said. In a real chemical attack, CDP officials say, men and women would be decontaminated separately. Many of the classes that come through the center are short on women. When they are, Hollingsworth suits up, goes into the gas chamber, and risks exposure to VX. It’s deadly stuff. Arledge, the CDP spokesman, says you can die from contact with a drop of VX that’s just big enough to cover the statue of Lincoln on the back of a penny. (There really is a statue of Lincoln in the monument on the back of the penny, but you have to look really close.) Why train with live agent? Dickson said studies have shown that people who train in the standard military way — donning a suit and going into a room full of non-lethal tear gas — lack confidence in the equipment, and in their own ability to use it in a real-world attack. “If you did this training in the military, you probably reached up and broke

the seal on your mask if it got too hard to breathe,” Dickson said. “When you’re working with live agent, you don’t do that.” Asked where the CDP got its VX, CDP superintendent Jones said, tersely, “From the Army.” He won’t answer questions about how much poison gas the facility has on hand.

A math problem Ten years after the attacks, the budget austerity is a looming threat to almost every government program. Anti-terrorist programs may yet prove to be untouchable in the budget process; if an attack occurs, nobody wants to be the politician who just cut homeland defense. But continued funding is still not a given, especially at the local level. “Homeland Security training is very

Stephen Gross/The Anniston Star

LEFT: A penny at actual size. RIGHT: Detail of the Lincoln Memorial on the back of the penny. Live agent VX is so toxic that contact with one drop the size of the penny’s Lincoln statue is fatal.

expensive, and there’s not as much money to go around,” said Stacy Mann, a professor at Jacksonville State University’s Institute for Emergency Preparedness. Cuts have already appeared at the state level. Officials of Alabama’s Department of Homeland Security said earlier this year that their federal funding dropped by almost half, to $5 million, due in part to the end of stimulus funding. When Alabama legislators passed a tough immigration bill, and tasked statelevel Homeland Security with enforcing part of it, officials pointed out that they didn’t know how the department would pay for it. The director of CDP says he can see the conundrum states and local governments are facing. “I don’t think it’s complacency,” Jones said. “I think it’s a math problem.” Jones said he foresees “downward pressure on every agency” as the federal government tries to cut down on spending. Even the CDP is looking for ways to cut corners. Jones said the center is reviewing some of its policies on energy use, and is revamping the way it schedules travel for students coming to the center. With thousands of students per year, he said, some red-eye flights could save a lot of money. Jones acknowledges that it’s his job to worry. But he said the Arab Spring and the death of Osama bin Laden haven’t convinced him the threat of attack is passing. Far from it. “With the destabilization that is going on, and the presence of weapons of mass destruction in these countries, the risk may be increasing,” he said. Asked if the public has grown complacent after a decade without a major attack, Jones shook his head. “The fact that we’re all more alert,” he said, “may be the reason why an attack didn’t happen.” Contact Assistant Metro Editor Tim Lockette at 256-235-3560.