By Steve Fjeldsted, Former South Pasadena Director of Library, Arts, and Culture (2006-20019)
As the summer of 2001 skidded to a stop, I had already amassed three major speeding tickets during the year while residing in Kingsburg in Fresno County. I was working as the Library Director for Kings County in Hanford in the San Joaquin Valley and each weekday morning I drove my toddler Eric to daycare in Visalia in Tulare County. Then it was a rush to the Library before cruising home each night—in all a 60 mile triangular speedway in a ’98 VW Beetle.
When I received a Notice to Appear for my traffic violation trifecta, a Superior Court Judge friend warned me I’d better throw myself on the mercy of the court. My driver’s license could be suspended for a year or longer. More critically, I could lose my job. And in those days there was no Uber, Lyft, or any kind of public transportation for my unique daily workweek route.
Before retiring for the night of September 10, I set my alarm clock radio (remember those?) for super early to make sure I’d be at court at 8 am. I was yanked awake by the chaotic sounds of an explosion and screaming and a news reporter abhorred by a plane crashing into the World Trade Center.
Despite it all, I quickly showered and dressed and cautiously drove to court. As soon as I entered, I saw the staff glued to a portable TV showing the harrowing news reports from New York City. Next to it was a makeshift placard declaring “All Cases Today Are Dismissed.”
Returning home to the flashing light on my answering machine, I absorbed the message from the County CAO declaring that all Kings County government offices would be closed that day because nearby Lemoore Naval Air Station was on high alert. While calling and sending messages informing library staff, it was difficult to pull my attention away from the horrific scenes on my TV.
Reports were pouring in of the twin towers crashing down and the escalating death toll which was already in the hundreds on the way to the thousands. I felt morose while grieving for the uncountable victims and grateful for the heroism of the first responders. Those agonizing emotions lasted over a week, and reflecting back, I can still feel them a bit now. And I still have a twinge of survivor’s guilt — because the darkest day in American history was the best time to go to traffic court.
