Remembering 9/11: Diane Pitts

Bethesda resident Diane Pitts, a volunteer firefighter and emergency medical technician, responded to the Pentagon Sept. 11, 2001. Manning the squad's air truck, she filled the tanks of responding firefighters with compressed air and provided lighting for the temporary morgue and first aid tent.

While at the crash site that evening, she and another rescue squad member captured images of the response on her camera, including photos of Marines raising a flag near the crash site around 3a.m. Sept. 12, 2001. In the following days, she helped decontaminate responders as they left the scene.

Following is an account of Pitts' experience, told in her own words, and the emotional challenges she overcame as she responded to the attack site in the wake of her husband's death just a year earlier.

The incidents of that fateful day, Sept. 11, 2001, would have a significant and life-changing effect on me, much like it did on just about everyone else in this great country. But, that day would ultimately affect me much more deeply and in a way that I could never have anticipated. Amongst the death and destruction suffered that day, I found something that I had lost just the year prior.

My husband had passed away in 2000. We were expecting our second child and our son was about to turn 2 years old. I was a month away from giving birth, when my husband of nine years suddenly and unexpectedly died in his sleep. I spent the subsequent months trying to recover from that awful day, struggling to find my new ‘normal’ in my now upside-down world. 

Our daughter came into this world early as the stress of my husband’s sudden departure from this earth caused me to go into premature labor. What was supposed to be a joyous occasion instead only added to the burden of my new paradigm of trying to figure out how to be a single mom of two. 

I gave birth to our daughter, and also had to try to handle the innocent yet heart-wrenching inquiries from our toddler son, asking where his dad was and why he had not been around.  How does one explain such things to little ones so young?  I could not even answer that one to myself.

But we were making it.  Day by day, and sometimes, when things really got bad, only minute by minute.

In  2001, it had been a little over a year. Many aspects of our new norm were settling in. Juggling daycare, work and the routine tasks like making meals and household maintenance were slowly being mastered. It was more of an existence rather than living. 

One of the decisions I had to make was reconsidering my commitment to being a volunteer firefighter and emergency medical technician (EMT). 

In 2001, I had been a volunteer for 15 years and needed another 10 years to reach a point where I would be considered vested. I was more than halfway to a significant milestone in the life as a volunteer firefighter, and always dreamed of seeing that commitment through. 

All those years of training and experience, knowing that I was trained to run into burning buildings and handle emergencies big and small -- I had to ask myself if I could continue to perform that role.  But it was supposed to be a role I shared with my husband, also a lifetime volunteer firefighter. That is how we met; through the fire service.  That is how he made his living, as the Rescue Squad’s daytime supervisor.

The fire service was a huge part of my life and who I was. It was my way of having a special connection to my community, but more importantly, it gave me such great satisfaction and I always thought I would actively be a volunteer firefighter/EMT.

Each month I would attend the Rescue Squad’s monthly membership meeting and it would renew my quest to try to figure out whether or not I would return as an active firefighter.  I missed that part of my life, but I had to question whether or not I could fit it into my life and not adversely affect my children. I would never get close to a decision and would instead put it off for another month, knowing that each month that passed meant, in reality, that my firefighting days were slipping away.

So when Sept. 11, 2001 unfolded, the decision time had also come.  I was on my way to work when the first planes were hitting and in fact was stuck on the Metro train on my way to L’Enfant Plaza when the train was stopped due to some emergency.  I was in the first car of the train so I could hear the tragedy unfolding at the Pentagon from the radios of the train operator and a nearby Metro Transit Police officer.  It was not clear what was going on, but I could hear the screams and pandemonium over the radios and heard that it was all at the Pentagon.

After a long while, the Metro train moved and I was able to get off at my stop.  I still did not know anything about New York and, in fact, was wondering if the incident at the Pentagon I was listening to was a gunman or perhaps a train derailed.  But when I got to my work at GSA, I was turned away.  The security guard only said the federal government was closed.

It was a long trip to get back to Bethesda. I had never seen so many people in the Metro system. But when I emerged at the Bethesda station, headed to the Rescue Squad where I parked each day, I had difficulty getting anyone on the cell phone. 

Finally, my mom answered and she told me the details of New York and the Pentagon. I don’t think we knew much about the plane in Pennsylvania at that time. This situation was that more personal since my sister, a Lieutenant Colonel in the Army, worked in the Pentagon.  Although she was not in the building that day, we would find out that her section was the one hit and destroyed by the plane.

I told my mom I would pick up the kids in the daycare next to the Squad and would come up to Rockville to be with her and my dad.  She told me the Rescue Squad had placed numerous calls asking that I report in.  I told my mom that if I did, I would probably be tied up on emergencies for days, if not a whole week.  She said she and my dad would take care of the kids and to do what I had to do.

So here it was -- The Decision.  I had six blocks to walk to the Squad.  I had to decide my future. Would I get the kids and go to my parents, knowing that I would never be performing firefighting again, or would I report in and face the demons that were sure to come?

Then it hit me…what I really needed to decide…..I really did not know if I could handle seeing any more death. I found my husband the morning he had passed away and I did not know if I could handle dealing that closely with death anymore. That was what was really stopping me from getting back into volunteering, and yet I did not know that. I had pushed it from my mind every time I was trying to decide to return to active volunteering.  It was not a matter of time, it was instead facing death and wondering if I could still perform to my training.

The next thing I knew, I was reporting to the Deputy Chief at the Squad. I still did not know how I would react, but I had to try. I was a Master Firefighter/EMT and the Squad assigned me to the Pentagon to operate and manage the air truck. I was one of a handful of individuals qualified to run that apparatus. One of my duties as the operator was to provide lighting to the temporary morgue. I did not hesitate. 

I was there at the Pentagon from Sept. 11, 2001 through Sept. 17, 2001. I was assigned to the decontamination unit for the bulk of the time at the Pentagon. I was able to face my demons and I was able to perform to the training I had received for those 15 years since entering the fire service. 

I had found myself amongst the rubble at the Pentagon. I had been lost since my husband’s passing, and now I was emerging from the dark shadows from the year before. I did not know what the future would hold for me, but the fire service was still going to be a part of my world – that was now clear to me.

Taking those first steps back into my world of the fire service and emergency eervices took me on a path that led me to where I am today.  Five months after Sept. 11, I was interviewing for the position as the first Pentagon fire marshal. I got the job. Three years after that, I was asked by the Department of Homeland Security to come work for them as the public safety liaison due to my position as the Fire Marshal.

Now, I work in DHS implementing “Lessons Learned” from 9/11.  But in a way, I had my own ‘lessons learned’ to thank for being where I am today.  I still volunteer for the Bethesda Chevy Chase Rescue Squad and I am the President of the Conduit Road Fire Board in Glen Echo, all due to the incidents of 9/11 allowing me to face my personal demons that almost caused me to walk away from the fire service.