Poppy Ann Morgan
"Your teacher assigned you to interview me about 9/11," Poppy said as she led Sean through the CBS This Morning studio. "I wasn't here then."
"Well," Sean started. "I want to hear where you were and what you were doing that day. She wants stories and even people who weren't here have to have stories."
Poppy gestured to the camera and tripod he held. "On camera." Sean nodded. "OK." Sean smiled and Poppy gestured to the news set. "Let's go out there," she said and led him out.
He set up the camera and tripod on one side of the table and Poppy sat in a chair on the other, the CBS logo behind her. "Is this OK?"
"It's great," Sean said. "Kind of gives a feeling of where you are now while you talk about where you were then." He started the camera. "I want to start with your name and occupation."
"My name is Poppy Ann Morgan and I am a set producer for CBS This Morning," she said.
Sean nodded and looked down at his notes. "Where were you on September 11th, 2001?"
"I was in Cheyenne Wyoming," she replied. "I worked in the master control room at KGWN TV 5. Also CBS. I was working and going for my degree at Laramie County Community College."
"What do you remember about that day?"
Poppy blinked and leaned back in her chair. "I had worked the swing shift the night before—until 1 a.m., so I was still in bed. I was living in my parents' basement at the time, saving money for my own place. My mom stomped to wake me then yelled down the stairs." Poppy stopped to look at the ceiling.
She squeezed her eyes shut and a tear rolled down her cheek where she wiped it away. "She yelled down at me and it sounded for all the world like she had yelled that the world was ending." She sniffed. "But the nightmare on the TV when I came up was not to be forgotten…and not far off."
"What did you do?"
Poppy looked at him. "My job," she said. "After my classes, which mostly got cancelled, I went to work and did my job." She sniffed before going on. "I went in and had nothing to do. The ongoing special report meant that there were no commercials to run. The shows that I had to record couldn't be sent since a lot of them came from the antenna at the top of the North Tower." She fiddled with her finger briefly before going on. "So I sat there and made sure the signal didn't go down." She shrugged. "I felt like I was here, and in DC, and in Shanksville. Just because I was watching it on five little screens." She looked up at Sean. "I did not step foot in this city until five years after that. But, because I had watched so much of it, I had always felt like I had been here that day."
Sean nodded when she paused to take a drink from her water bottle. "We sent food and blankets, shoes for the search dogs, and blood for the wounded. People traveled here to spell the men who worked on the pile and cheer them up and remind them that there was life on the other side." She shook her head. "And when we had no more to send," she went on. "We sent our prayers."
"Do you ever talk about it?"
"Every so often," Poppy said. "Someone will ask. And I will say. And they will say. And we will cry and go back to our life." She leaned forward. "And we are thankful we have a life to go back to."
Sean nodded and turned off the camera. "Thank you, Miss Morgan."
"Oh, it's Poppy," the woman said. "If you need any more help, let me know. And tell your dad hey for me, will ya?"
Sean nodded an affirmation and began to pack up his gear.
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Author's note: This chapter is based on where I was that day. The names and places have been changed, but the gist of it is true. I just reshaped it to fit into a Blue Bloods story.