My 9/11 Story
Photo by Jason McCaan (@bkview)
This is my 9/11 story.
I’ve never shared it before, but I think it relates to my recent thoughts on creativity and building solutions. I hope it sounds coherent, because it’s one of those things that I’ve never put into words.
Here’s how the day went:
It was the morning of September 11, 2001. A short few months after my first professional title, WDL: WarJetz for the PS2, had been released to the public. I was getting ready to head into the offices of The 3DO Company in sunny Redwood City, California, where I was a junior gameplay programmer.
WarJetz Box Cover Art
At the time, I had stopped taking in the morning news and opted for quick gaming sessions to help me get situated for the day. (At the time, I would play something like Chu Chu Rocket, Seaman, Shenmue, or maybe The Sims. This was my pre-work mental activity.
Sometime after eating breakfast, but before starting to play any games, the phone rang. It was rare for me to get calls that early in the morning, so I didn’t know what to expect. I picked up the phone, and it turned out to be Hunter, an animator from work.
The conversation went something like this:
Benja: “Hey, Hunter, What’s going on?”
Hunter: “Are you seeing this?”
Benja: “Seeing What?”
Hunter: “Turn on your television. NOW.”
Benja: “Okay…give me a second.”
Hunter remained unusually silent while I walked into the living room and switched on the tube. (Yes. It was a fat-back tv at the time.)
The audio kicked in first. It was a somber and serious news voice. As the screen lit up, the very first thing I saw was a grainy image of a smoldering building.
It was the World Trade Center.
I held the phone quietly for a minute before I could respond. We had a that lasted for several minutes while we watched in shock as the events unfolded. I don’t remember the details, but the conversation went something like this:
Benja: “Oh…oh my god…”
(silence)
Hunter: “...So what do we do?...”
Me: “I…don’t know…”
Hunter: “...what the hell, dude?...”
Me: “...right…”
(silence)
Hunter: “Are you going to work?...”
Me: “Uh….I guess so… Yeah. I think I am…”
Hunter: “Okay. I’ll be there soon…”
(silence)
After hanging up, I called my parents and a few other people before heading off to the 3DO offices.
As I finished getting ready, I wondered why I felt compelled to go to work. Well, aside from trying to keep my mind in a normal frame of thought (normalcy bias kicking in), I wanted to be around other people. I was new to the city and didn’t have many friends outside of the job, so it seemed like a good place to be. The people at 3DO were generally a good group, and in a lot of ways, they felt like family…dysfunctions and all.
I was off to “work”.
When I arrived at 3DO, I walked through the entrance, and towards my work area. I could feel the strange and somber mood in the air. It was warm and cold at the same time. Many people were arriving from their commute and were just getting the news. Everyone was huddled in the hallways, at cubicles, or in the cafeteria discussing what was happening with a variety of emotions and thoughts. But there were clearly others that had heard the news and then decided to come in to work; so I wasn’t the only one. I think we needed to see each other in person. Not surprising since we would often spend over eight hours a day with each other.
But the vibe was strange and intense, something that I hadn’t felt before, and something I haven’t felt since. Weren’t we all just there to make games the world enjoyed? Couldn’t we live in our happy little Silicon Valley bubbles? Not so much.
Shortly into the day, our CEO, Trip Hawkins, gathered us all together to give a concise statement, to offer some words of hope, and to encourage us to go home to our families. I suppose a few people stayed for whatever reason, but I wasn’t going to get any work done.
(Honestly, a part of me felt a little happy. It was like we were in middle school being informed that class was canceled.)
The rest of the day became a blur. I remember eating lunch and hearing lots of political talk that went over my head. At home, my time was spent cycling through eating, watching the news, and playing games. It was a bit of a blur as I processed what was going on.
And after that day, things changed.
I began thinking about human interactions in a way that I hadn't done before.
I started to question my fascination with gaming and entertainment, and wanted more out of it. I wondered if what I was doing actually meant anything. Was all my work doing anything to help anyone? Should I be doing something more useful with my time?
The thoughts gnawed at me and rolled in my head.
I’d always thought of my work as a way to create a more enjoyable and educational existence that could actually bring people together.
9/11 challenged that belief.
This attack on our soil made us think of things differently. Even in my cushy video game job on the other across the country, the effects could be felt in the air.
And as I mentioned before, the first major game title I worked on was called WDL: WarJetz and was released earlier that year. It was all about having fun with planes, weapons, and explosions. (The WDL stands for World Destruction League, by the way.)
There was no guilt involved, but I just had to think about it.
I wondered about the greater effect that I was having on the world and the people around me. I rocked back and forth between feelings of powerlessness and grandiosity.
And most importantly, I questioned the usefulness of my creativity.
Did it matter at all? Or was it the thing that mattered most? After wrestling with these thoughts for a while, I came to a conclusion: I cannot and should not try to diminish my personal drive. What I needed was to do better in my creativity, in my job, my life, in my hobbies, with my co-workers, and in every aspect of my life.
Flash forward to the present.
It’s twenty-two years later. While I don’t currently make videogames, I still have that renewed sense of purpose to create better situations wherever I go.
And this is my pledge for 2024 and beyond:
“I will keep creating and bringing my message of mutually beneficial creativity to the world.”
And that’s it. Just some thoughts that were sparked by this year’s 9/11 remembrance.
If any part of this resonated with you, please send me a response. I do appreciate hearing from you.
Thank you,
- Benja -