The Friday Before: From “Jump Around” to 9/11
"Pack it up, pack it in
Let me begin."
-- House of Pain
Friday
Mornings meant bouncing in, step-by-step to the music. Team members bopping by, hands in the hair, just don’t care. Everybody jump, jump (to the extent appropriate in an office setting, anyway).
The newcomer passes Bright’s desk, where the music emanates. Bright: he’s a designer of magnitude in the web shop, and bringer of daybreak levity. She pumps her fist, as a brown curl bounces on his bobbing head, and they exchange smiles. She thinks: It’s another great end to a great week in utopia.
But every day felt like TGIF day here. You felt it when you heard it. But even without musical accompaniment, you lived it in your mind: Jump up, jump up, and get down.
Bright’s supercharged musical selections echoed across half of the sprawling office floor, spreading smiles and giggles. Coworkers mingled and visited, making happy hour plans. Ample time existed to enjoy the moment, given Friday meetings were not a “thing”. Deliverable due dates were few and far between and a sprawling weekend lay ahead.
A light load paired with a perpetual friendly atmosphere made this late ‘90s hot digital consultancy into a work utopia. An environment of glass, blonde bamboo surfaces, high-rise views from North Dallas to Downtown, and bright yellow walls adorned with whiteboards. Talented and on-trend people took their positions on beanbags, fiddling with legos, and planning to take their pick of upscale restaurants for lunch.
In fairness to work ethic, some readied themselves for their next kickoff, anticipating the needs of their team of 30. Well prepared agendas and project plans stood ready to take command and mobilize a versatile group. But the most important question?: how many snacks to procure for their colossal conference room.
Others arranged travel to their client sites, all expenses paid, to engage on entirely new web projects – rich with lessons learned. Such as, the importance of preparation and roles & responsibilities definition before the plane landed. Alas, the lack of a “meeting before the meeting” at times became evident, during rocky on-site project starts. Live and learn!
Still, the momentum remained tangible… yet the environment was extremely laid back at the same time.
This was Friday in the dot com utopian enclave. The Friday before it all changed.
Monday
On this day, no music blared its greeting. Instead, something unusual: the sound of Spanish language broken by static.
The newcomer enters the web shop floor, gourmet coffee in hand, blissfully virgin to what was to come. With each step, the unfamiliar words amid white noise grow louder, and increasing confusion raises the hairs on her neck.
Approaching the mystery, she witnesses a gathering of coworkers, standing rigid. Faces: worried. Body language: closed in shock. Some pace, others stand entranced. Still others ask questions to each other, as if there are answers.
“I’m going to try to pull up CNN.com,” she overhears Bright say. Another follows him to a computer.
Then she turns her head toward the source of the sound, where a dozen eyes in a tiny interior conference room remain transfixed. An old school TV stands just above their heads, on a mobile stand. Projecting a building, on fire. Debris and papers floating in the air like fluttering butterfly wings. People hurling themselves, limp, out of windows – as if salvation lie ahead. All accompanied by explanation in a language that no one could understand. Yet, the group suspects that no language would suffice to explain.
“CNN.com is down,” Bright’s sober voice responds nearby.
In this dot com boom era, the all-powerful internet is rendered frail for the first time: cracking under the strain of traffic. An office filled with powerful computers and web builders stand similarly feeble and useless. And so, the group steps deeply back in time, to childhood. When the cable bill wasn’t paid, and analog TV could only pick up the Spanish station and its undulating waves of grey noise.
She remains rooted to the spot, coffee growing cold, in horror at the images invading her eyes. In a wave of synchronicity, fresh fear blossoms: Would our building become the next target?
The momentum suddenly transforms, and the crowd’s weight shifts like vermin suddenly exposed to light. Grabbing laptops hastily, the group files out with scuttling feet, proceeding to cars and highways. A singular instinct rules her mind: to get to a place of safety, with access to information to decipher, in an attempt to make some sense of it. To get home.
A short drive later, she steps through her front door. The second tower falls as she sinks to the floor.
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