25 years ago. One week before on September 4th, HP had announced that it would acquire Compaq. We were in shock and as an internal communication professional with Compaq Canada, I quickly worked with our executive team to have our president speak to our employees from his cottage to announce what he knew and what he didn’t.
On September 11, Compaq was mourning loss of colleagues…four at a conference at the World Trade Centre and one on a plane. I remember watching the TV from a training room with fellow colleagues and then immediately worrying about my brother who lived in Manhattan who I couldn’t reach (because he was on a plane sitting on a tarmac in Florida headed back to New York and oblivious to what was happening). I was also starting my role as president of IABC/Toronto.
It’s amazing how I forget where I left my phone or glasses minutes ago, but other moments long ago are so vivid. Perhaps it’s because we held onto the stories of loss, love, fear, concern, bravery and courage. Of the people in and around those buildings, on the planes, in service (both officials and volunteers) trying to help, in communities like Gander, Newfoundland who provided shelter during the uncertainty.
Closer to home and in our workplaces, many of us were trying to make sense of it all so that we could support leaders and employees. I remember with Compaq having our brilliant communication team create a rallying cry focused on what stayed the same and what we could control through the uncertainty of both a pending merger (mired in public proxy battles) and a world in chaos – customers, competitors, and community. We continued a regular conversation between leaders and employees sharing what we could, when we could.
At IABC/Toronto, we had to regroup …originally planning member growth. It was time to steady the ship, focus on stability and stay connected to a membership that wanted to stay at home and cocoon. Relationships and conversations were important here as well.
On this day, 25 years later, I remember those who were lost. I also reflect on the resilience of humanity to make sense of unimaginable trauma and somehow continue forward.
September 11 taught us that in the moments when there are no perfect words and no clear answers, our presence still matters. Honesty matters. Connection matters. Saying what we know, acknowledging what we do not, and creating space for people to grieve, question, remember and find their footing matters.
May we never forget those we lost. But may we also remember how people showed up for one another that day and in the uncertain days that followed. Because when the world feels like it is falling apart, it is our humanity, expressed through courage, compassion and conversation, that helps us find our way forward.
