Jeff's Account

The pentagon in flamesjust minutes after a hijacked jetliner crashed into the building on Sept. 11, 2001. (U.S. Marine Corps photo by Cpl. Jason Ingersoll) (Released)

Photo by: CPL JASON INGERSOLL, HQMC PHOTLAB
Record ID No. (VIRIN): 010911-M-4122I-055

Friends,  Many of you had inquired of how we were doing and I have much appreciated it.  If I hadn't told you already, we're doing fine. There are some of you looking for a few more details and probably some of you that have heard enough.  For the former group, I've put some of my observations of the last couple days in writing...

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 Events started when my wife, Gale, called me at the office to tell me she was watching a news report on TV about a plane which had crashed into the WTC.  Finding that just too hard to believe, I went in search of a TV to see for myself.  When I saw it on the TV in my Colonel's office, not one, but both towers had been hit by planes--even jumbo jets! Like many of you, we were standing there looking at something and not hardly believing it. This is the stuff of Spielberg movies.  It also becomes apparent to us after number two hits that this has to be the work of terrorists. 

After watching this for a few moments, we headed back to my office and told the officemates what was going on.  I called HQ AFPC (where the USAF casualty assistance/reporting stems from) to see if they were on this.  They were.  We discussed the fact that though this is appeared to be a "civilian" catastrophe, there would probably be some military involved--just like Oklahoma City--and this all happened before the collapse of either tower.  Just a few moments after hanging up, I heard a loud boom and felt a vibration in the floor.  (Keep in mind, I've never heard anything from outside except thunder from a strong storm or a jet flying overhead in full afterburner.)  I looked to another officer in my office, and we both knew what happened but were waiting for the other to acknowledge it.  Our Colonel, who happened to be in the office at the same time discussing the situation, said that what we had just heard must have been an air handler.  (?) I really don't think she believed that (though she had just recently moved up from another part of the building where the air handler may have made loud noises).  I really don't think she wanted to believe what we were all thinking.  I said that I've never heard a noise like that up here.  I was feeling pretty certain we had just been hit by a plane, but I guess I wasn't going to be the first to run.

Well, we didn't have to stand around and debate it.  Probably 10 seconds later we heard some shrieks out in the hallway.  We walked out our door and stood and watched a couple of woman moving pretty quickly and then saw several others walking--in fact walking in different directions.

About that time the fire alarm goes off and then one of the security guards shows up at the end of a corridor and directs people to the proper exit route.  Exiting seemed like the prudent thing to do.  By the time we got down to the second floor on Corridor Two, we were joined by the masses of the Pentagon trying to exit through one of a few doors to the outside.  We moved slowly and orderly.  There was the buzz of earnest conversation in the corridor and then the PA system sounded giving us the evacuation instructions.  Everyone became silent and all I heard was the PA and the shuffle of feet.  This was very different from the evacuation last month that occurred due to a smoke-filled electrical closet--which was viewed pretty much as an annoyance by everyone.  As we were walking out, I mentioned to a coworker I wasn't too sure going outside was the right thing to do--assuming we were under attack. I guess I was second guessing that order and was wondering whether it might be better if we didn't all go to the basement--after all, two planes had hit the WTC Towers—maybe there was another one for us. 

Once I got outside the building, I saw black smoke billowing over the roofline of the corner of the building to our right.  I also realized I felt a little more relieved as I walked away from the building.  It had dawned on me at that point that being in a "significant" large government building probably wasn't a good place to be.  As I walked away from the building, I suggested to an officemate that we walk at an angle towards a position where we could get a view of the face of the building that had been hit.  We arrived at a position at the top of a grassy knoll where we could very clearly see the point of impact--about 500 yards from where we were standing.  I was kind of surprised to see nothing down there that resembled any part of a plane.  There was, however, a sizable hole in the side of our "fortress" with a huge fireball in the middle of it.

"Surreal" has been a word used a lot lately.  It is properly used to describe the scene of a plane flying into the South Tower next to the burning North Tower.  It also applied to what I was looking at here.  In fact, the feeling I had compared somewhat to the uneasy feeling you had at that last "monumental" scene of the new Planet of the Apes movie--this just wasn't right—maybe even a desecration.  At the same time that I'm trying to process what I was seeing, I realize that there has to be many helpless souls who were in the building at that point. 

I should point out that for some reason it had occurred to me that I should grab my cell phone and keys before I evacuated.  In fact, probably because of the calm and orderly exit, I had the presence of mind to start dialing home even before I got to the exit doors.  I knew Gale and the kids were watching the NY story at home and would probably be hearing about the Pentagon any time.

I knew the gap between hearing about the Pentagon and hearing from me wouldn't be pleasant at home.  Though I had started dialing immediately, the cell network was already jammed.  It would be almost 45 minutes before I connected with the house.  All I heard was what sounded like Gale saying "hello"; after that just crackling.  I hollered into the phone that I was outside the building and was ok.  I had hoped she heard me.  As I later found out, she did.

By the time we got to this point of view, security personnel had already defined a perimeter and were directing people to move back.  Traffic on Washington Blvd had already stopped and civilians were moving in for a view.  Security was hollering at people to not touch anything nor disturb any evidence.  I looked down and what I would have thought was just litter any other time, being little pieces of material about the size of my hand, were probably remnants of the plane--probably why I saw nothing remaining down there at the point of impact.  The military in the area were asked by Defense Protective Service officials to help form a human perimeter to keep onlookers from disturbing the evidence.  As a human fence, we pushed outward away from the "crime" scene.  As time went on we were pushed farther and farther away, and I realized it might be a good idea to make way to my vehicle in the far southeast parking lot before we were pushed out of reach.

As I was driving away from the Pentagon, I felt like I shouldn't be leaving--though I knew we were not going to be allowed anywhere near it for some time.  But, I also knew my family would want to see me.  When I got on I-395 headed towards downtown (which was on my way to my quarters on Andrews AFB), I saw several people who were walking away from the Pentagon along the side of the freeway.  It occurred to me after  passing a couple that I should stop and offer a ride.  One took me up on it and said he needed to get downtown.  He worked in security for agency in town and was pretty certain he needed to be there.  I'm certain he was indeed needed that day.

It didn't occur to me until I had dropped him off at the closest exit to his building (couldn't get any closer because of the gridlock) that I didn't even have the radio on.  Shortly after I turned it on, I heard the announcer say something about the second tower having just collapsed.  Again, I felt like I was in the middle of a dream sequence. 

I finally arrived at my quarters about two hours after we were evacuated.  I had managed to get a cell call through on the way home so I knew my family was already somewhat relieved.  But, when I got in the door, everyone broke from the TV and we all got the hugs that each of us needed.  We lingered on the hugging business.  We had concerned neighbors at the house already, and everyone was watching the TV.  I saw for the first time what it looks like for a mega skyscraper to drop.  I don't have to describe the feeling.  Everyone who saw it knows that feeling.  Instantaneous destruction and massive loss of life--right before my eyes. 

Many of you have children who may have been in school.  We happen to homeschool, and the children were watching all of this unfold.  (Kids shouldn't have to see this.  I can't think of anything that came close to this when I was a kid.)  Gale told me that my daughter, Nicole (our eldest at 13) was sitting there with tears running down her face following the announcement of the Pentagon attack.  I'm so glad that I was able to get through on the phone in only 45 minutes.  I know it took much longer for others.  As I write this, a family we're acquainted with still hasn't heard from dad. 

In fact, this family is another homeschooling family that Gale has worked together with in the base homeschool group.  We found out from someone Tuesday evening that she still hadn't heard from her husband.  It was a call that Gale didn't want to make for fear of what she might hear, but she had to make sure that this lady was being looked after.  She called and talked with her, and she found out that her mother-in-law was with her and the two boys who are 8 and 10--she was clearly worried and cried some, but still was hopeful.  The next day we were hearing on the news that there was little hope of any more survivors being found in the Pentagon.  If someone had survived the crash, it was unlikely they would have survived the blaze that lasted more than a day. Gale and a friend went and visited her Wednesday afternoon.  She had told Gale that she had been calling her husband's office and leaving voice mails for him with the hope that he was hearing them.  I got the impression that she believed there may be a working phone on the other end because she was able to leave a voicemail message...and her 8-yr-old son is telling her not to worry because "Dad will be ok."  (How many young boys think Dad is invincible?)  Gale also tells me the older boy was teary-eyed as she observed him watching the TV coverage.  All the while we know that his office on Corridor 4, D Ring, was not a good place to have been...

Back to Tues.  Like many of you, I sat in front of the TV most of the day feeling more numb and disbelief than anything else.  I also heard from many, many of you--those of you that were able to get a line in to Washington DC--and those that couldn't tried by email.  I have to tell you that Gale and I felt a lot of love that day as the phone rang all day.  It even seemed that many of you had been more affected than I was by the Pentagon incident.  I suppose a lot of it had to do with not knowing--and, I guess I've been too close to it and moving too fast for it to have its full impact on me--yet.  I thought it odd of the many of you who said you heard I was ok, but you needed to hear my voice.  It was funny that many of my officemates said their friends and family said the same thing. I suppose it's for the same reason that hugs from my kids felt so good that night.

The next day I get a call at 0445 from my boss telling me to report for duty that AM.  I'm a little confused at this because I know the Pentagon from the live news coverage that it’s still burning; and, like I said, we've been evacuated from the building in the past when a few electrical wires were smoldering in some closet a half of a mile of corridors away.  Anyhow, as I got to the building, I'm told by security that I can't enter my office.  Well, the Secretary of Defense had said we would be back at work the next day.  We were.  It's just that half of us didn't have office space. (I should point out that my office was off of Corridor 2, C Ring.  Can't tell that there was any damage other than light smoke. Nevertheless we were right on the edge of the area that they closed for the next couple of days.)

Coming back to Andrews that AM, I saw for the first time the effect of Force Protection Condition Delta--meaning there wasn't just a "threat" of terrorist activity, but we were actually experiencing it.  As I drove up to the gate, I was greeted by a very serious security policeman who not only wanted to see my ID card, but also what was in the back of my truck.  And while on most days you might see a couple of security policemen at the gate with sidearms strapped on, today there were dozens in BDUs and helmets holding M16's with fingers on triggers.  Now I have to tell you I was impressed and carefully followed the gauntlet they had laid out, complete with concrete barriers for us to zigzag and an armored personnel carrier parked nearby.  Keep in mind that I have a tall, 13-yr-old girl who looks me in the eye and as I view some of these security policemen, I can't help notice that some of them are females, not as tall as my daughter, and not looking much older--maybe 18 or 19.  I'm slightly amused at this.  But, I do feel very secure on base with my family, knowing these security police"persons" (as one of my female air"man" would have called them) are trained and ready to use the weapons they hold.

As many of you felt, I didn't like sitting around while there was so much need out there.  I got a call from a coworker the morning after who told me how she got into the recovery/crime scene area and was doing volunteer service at the Salvation Army tent.  I got dressed in my BDUs, hopped on my motorcycle, and headed back down there.  Wasn't sure how I was going to get in there, so when I got to the Pentagon reservation and was challenged by security, I told him I was headed to my office. 

"Mission essential?" he asked.

"Nope," I said.

He told me that I would have to go home.  At that point I told him that I was also a volunteer worker at the Salvation Army tent and was headed there next.  At that he let me go by.  After I got in the recovery area, I followed through on my new job and headed for the Salvation Army tent.  I tell you, I was looking for things to do--whether putting out food for the fire fighters, investigators, and rescue workers; or just moving trash bags.  I know many others were out there wishing they could help, but the many who couldn't get in did help--by donating blood, supplies, and food. You've heard all the stories already how people can come together for a disaster like this.  I'm telling you restaurants delivered filet mignon steaks for the many workers.  And the politeness was rampant--hello, sir; thank you, sir; let me get that for you, sir.  And, then there were the well-wishers, the flag-wavers, and the many who prayed.  If we could only be like this more often--under different circumstances.  

I ended day two at my church that evening.  As many of you found at your churches, ours was full that evening.  The prayers that night were truly heartfelt.  I know they are continuing even now...

Today I sit in another office (mine is still closed) getting back to the work that needs to be done.  The faces I see in the halls have that glazed look...I'm certain many have that same wierd feeling I'm having, knowing that while I work over here, work is being done on the other side of the building, attempting to recover the remains of people with whom we have worked.  So, while we mourn, we go back to doing our business.  It's the same business my fallen comrades were doing when they were hit; it was important business, and getting back to it honors them.

Jeff Keef, Major, USAF

13 Sep 01

Addendum, 17 Sep 01

Today I met with an individual I often interact with who works in the Office of the Secretary of Defense.  He asked me if I knew any of the Army guys who had died.  I told him about one of them that I noticed on the list with whom I had just gotten acquainted because he was working a project in which we (USAF Compensation) were interested.  I found out that a briefing was being given on this same project to Lt Gen Maude (Army, also officially missing, but who was later confirmed as killed) in a conference room where the plane hit.  (The project involved making death survivor benefits more visible to soldiers and their families—how ironic is that?)   You’ve heard people use the expression that such and such sent chills down their spine.  I guess I’ve used that before, but to be honest this is the first time I really felt it.  Why?  Well, after hearing about this meeting I went back and discovered these names on the list:  Maj Ron Milam (Army), Sgt Maj Ivory (Army), and Terry Lynch (contractor).  Then I looked at the last emails I had exchanged with them.  In one of them Maj Milam assured me that they would be letting me know about their next meeting on this project—since I wasn’t able to make it to the meeting they had invited me to on 17 Aug due to a schedule conflict.  For some reason I was not invited to that meeting on 11 Sep 01.  Not sure why I wasn't invited and probably will never know since the people I had been working with aren't around to ask.   I suppose I can say God didn’t want me there. 

I thought about keeping this to myself so as not to worry anybody or to appear to be dramatic, but then I thought it would be wrong to not share God's grace at work.  That’s all I can say—God’s grace.