When the going got tough, an industry society kept going, with remarkable poise and grace.
It's an intriguing fact about human nature that whenever something big happens, people can always remember where they were and what they were doing at the time.
Of course, by the time you read this you will have been reading, hearing and talking about the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks on the United States for a couple of months. But as I write this it's only 3 days since the attacks. I don't intend to use this as a pulpit for my sentiments about the incident. But "where I was" turned out to be a memorable professional and patriotic experience.
For those who didn't attend the annual meeting of the Society of Exploration Geophysicists (SEG) in San Antonio, Texas, the day of the attacks was the second day of the exhibition. I was on my way into a morning panel discussion when my husband called me on my cell phone with an early report. Many other delegates weren't even aware of the news until after their morning technical sessions. People on the exhibit floor heard about the attacks through a variety of channels, and those exhibitors with television capabilities turned off their geophysical software displays and tuned into the network news. It wasn't hard to tell which booths had this capability because a huge crowd of people gathered around each one, watching in shock while trying to filter this new and horrible information.
An official announcement about the tragedy was made on the show floor midmorning, and SEG officials sprang into action. It was unclear how to proceed. Many of the companies who had planned parties for Tuesday night decided to cancel those gatherings in a show of respect for the victims. But to call off the entire conference was a weightier manner. On the one hand, it did seem to make almost everything else (even geophysics) seem rather inconsequential by comparison. On the other hand, with airports closed and many people stranded in San Antonio without transportation, what else was everybody supposed to do?
SEG officials and staff members spent much of Tuesday huddled in conference. "Obviously this was not going to be a normal day," said incoming SEG President Walt Lynn. "We didn't know if other places were under attack. We really didn't know what to do. None of us is trained for this."
The first concern was safety for the delegates, particularly those from overseas. The group met with the San Antonio Police Department, and while a couple of bomb threats had been reported in the city, none of them turned out to be real. Once the officials felt relatively sure that the convention center itself would not come under attack, they began to ponder their next move.
"We were getting reports that the technical sessions were still reasonably well attended and that there was some activity on the exhibit floor," Lynn said. "If nobody had shown up, we would have said, 'Go home.'"
Of course, that command would have proved somewhat difficult for those people without cars who had planned to fly home. But on a deeper level, it seemed best to maintain some sense of routine during what had turned into a very nonroutine day.
"The psychology of being with people, with friends, is much better than being in a hotel room by oneself," Lynn said.
A few things were changed. Security was heightened at the convention center and at a neighboring hotel that housed much of the international showcase attendees. A banner proclaiming SEG "the world's largest oil and gas expo" was hastily removed from the front of the convention center. SEG canceled its planned party to be held outdoors Wednesday evening because its alternate venue in case of rain was being requested for use in a blood drive. And the exhibit ended 1 hour early Wednesday afternoon to allow more time for security to search the trucks being used to move out the equipment.
Remarkably, there was very little dissention about any of these quickly made decisions. "As a group, the executive committee as well as the senior staff put our heads together and collectively came up with these decisions," Lynn said. "Everybody had their own ideas, but it was teamwork at its best."
SEG officials weren't the only ones concerned about the needs of the delegates. With so many people suddenly unable to fly home, WesternGeco rented buses to take stranded delegates back to Houston, Texas, and Landmark Graphics bused delegates to Denver, Colo. Chevron bused delegates all the way to San Ramon, Calif.
Meanwhile, thousands of geophysicists, exhibitors, members of the press and family members struggled to figure out how, exactly, to proceed with the rest of the show. For those of us not directly involved in the behind-the-scenes SEG summit, it was indeed a horrifying day, but our lives didn't completely grind to a screeching halt, as was no doubt the hope of the perpetrators. Amid the numbing certainty that the world was forever a changed place, we went about our business, writing copy for show dailies, meeting people in their booths, attending technical sessions and luncheons, sometimes blinking back tears but managing to maintain at least a shred of professionalism. At a party on the San Antonio River Walk Tuesday evening, several hundred people stood silent as US President George Bush addressed the nation, and they cheered when he finished. For those of us who couldn't be with our families that night, it felt like the next best thing.
Lynn said that at a final dinner for event organizers and staff, concern was raised about international delegates who had received aid from the society to attend the meeting. Many of them were stranded indefinitely with very little money. Several of the dinner attendees offered to write personal checks to ensure that these foreign visitors had food and lodging.
"It's remarkable to see these overt shows of concern and help," Lynn said. "We're going to come through this much, much stronger."
Correction
The two images in Figure 2 on p. 49 of the September 2001 issue of Hart's E&P were inadvertently reversed.

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