On Thursday, Myra Wilson and her husband Jim Cehula sipped on glasses of French wine as they watched CNN's replay coverage of the Nov. 13 Paris terror attacks from the comfort of their South Anchorage home. The news coverage was mesmerizing, Wilson said. But unlike most viewers, Wilson and Cehula had experienced it firsthand while they were vacationing in Paris during the attacks.
While the couple was shocked by the attacks, it wasn't as traumatic an experience for them because they'd experienced something similar before, they said.
On Sept. 11, 2001, Wilson was beneath the Pentagon waiting to get on the subway when terrorists flew American Airlines Flight 77 into the building.
"I think on 9/11, I was a little more scared," Wilson said. "I'd never experienced anything like that before. And I wasn't with Jim."
"When you're apart, it's a bummer," Cehula added. "You wonder, 'What's your wife doing? Who's going to take care of her?' But when you're together it's way less stressful. If you go down, you'll go down together."
Alaskans in Paris
Wilson and Cehula arrived in Paris on Nov. 11 with another Alaska couple to conclude their three-week European holiday. The four of them rented an apartment just around the corner from the Place de la Republique from a woman named Sophie.
"When we showed up, Sophie met us at the apartment and there were these cops with machine guns. In Europe, it's not that unusual to see cops with machine guns. They're at the airport, they're everywhere," Cehula explained. "But we had these guys standing outside of our door and we asked, 'What the hell is going on?' She said, ''Charlie Hebdo' moved their offices next door,' but (added), 'Don't worry. It's the safest street in Paris.' She was probably right."
The four Alaskans went about the next couple of days like tourists in Paris do. They visited the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower and enjoyed French cuisine.
On the day of the attacks, the other couple traveling with Wilson and Cehula attended Mass at Notre-Dame de Paris. Later, the four of them went to a classical music concert at Sainte-Chapelle and rode the Ferris wheel.
As they made their way back to their apartment, they began to see the chaos of the Paris attacks unfold. The group decided to stop for a bite to eat, but one place was too busy and the other they "just weren't feeling," Cehula said.
So they began making their way back to their apartment for some beer and wine before they called it a night.
"As we walked out of there, there was this girl talking on her phone, crying and screaming," Cehula said. "We joked that she had probably just broken up with her boyfriend, but what really probably happened was she just got the news."
Cehula and Wilson said they didn't immediately know what was going on. As the events unraveled, the Place de la Republique was lined with emergency response vehicles. They never heard gunshots. They said they couldn't hear anything over the sounds of sirens.
"People were just sitting outside the cafes eating or having cocktails while all of this commotion was going on," Wilson said. "I don't think they were aware of what was going on."
The group tried to get back to their apartment. This time, instead of just a couple of armed officers, they were greeted by several screaming officers with guns drawn.
"Cops had our street barricaded and were setting up machine guns. We told them we wanted to go to our apartment and they told us to move away, and pointed their machine guns at us, so we went back to (the Place de la Republique)," Cehula said.
None of them spoke French. Not being able to communicate with security forces was the "scariest part," the couple agreed.
Cehula, Wilson and their friends bought sandwiches and finally heard the news. The group then decided to try to get into their apartment one more time for refuge. This time, they were met by a stampede of panicked people.
"We started running -- I hate to say it," Wilson said. "But when there is a crowd of people running towards you and police with machine guns around you, you think they are running from something. But you get that herd mentality and that can be a problem."
A shop owner pulled their group into his shop with about 20 other people, the couple estimated. They were pushed into a basement cellar, where the shop owner gave them bottles of water.
Wilson said it was quiet, there "was no chitchat" and most people were on their phones -- including her. She texted one of her sons to let him know they were OK, but her phone was dying, so communication was minimal.
"A friend texted me while we were in the cellar and said, 'There are hostages in the theater and they are storming the theater now," Wilson said.
About an hour later, an armed police officer came into the cellar and asked if anyone suspicious was inside. They were taken out one by one and eventually frisked. Then they were back on the streets. The time there were no running people, just emergency responders.
"We expected them to put us in a van and take us someplace safe, but no," Cehula said. "They weren't there to help us so much as to look for terrorists."
Once again without a place to go, they called Sophie, who told them to go a friend's restaurant around the corner. There they spent two hours with more than a dozen other people. The restaurant owners gave them blankets, water and wine.
"We offered to buy some wine and they said it wasn't the time. They said, 'We have plenty of wine and it's free,'" Cehula said.
Eventually, Sophie was able to find them a hotel where they could finally rest safely.
The next day, when they went out for lunch, ambulances were still traveling to and from the Bataclan Theatre, Wilson said. But Paris was quiet.
"It was really subdued, not like typical Paris, where it's typically bustling on a Saturday morning with people shopping," Cehula said.
"We went back to that place that took us in for lunch. A lot of places were closed. There were people there with children and their families. You could tell they just wanted things to be normal again, " Wilson said.
Not the first time and not afraid
Wilson and Cehula never appeared afraid as they retold the events from Paris.
Wilson works as a veterinarian and is the manager of Anchorage Animal Care and Control. She said in her job she deals with trauma on a regular basis, and although animal trauma is different from human trauma, it has shaped how she handled both of her encounters with terrorism.
When an airplane struck the Pentagon, Wilson was in the Metro station under the building, about to go to an FBI veterinary forensic tour.
"Some guy came running down into the Metro and was saying 'The Pentagon's been bombed! The Pentagon's been bombed!'" Wilson said. "Everyone started running for the exits, and the turnstiles -- you can only go one way -- people started jumping over to get out."
When Wilson came up from the Metro, a thick plume of black smoke filled the air. She went back to her hotel, where people with machine guns stood on rooftops.
"That was panic," Wilson said. "That was more chaotic than Paris. In Paris, we weren't running because we heard something had been bombed; we ran because everyone else was doing it."
Despite these experiences, Cehula and Wilson aren't afraid to travel. They plan to go back to Paris.
"I'm ready to go back," Cehula said. "I picked up 1,000 euros before we left. I know I'm going back. I believe what happens is going to happen. It wasn't our time or we had good luck. I'd go back to Paris in a heartbeat. It's my favorite city in the world."
Correction: An earlier version of this story misspelled Jim Cehula's last name in some references.