On 13 September 2001, Scott Westerfeld and Justine Larbalestier boarded a flight from Sydney to Melbourne, just two days after the September 11 attacks. Mid-flight, they hit turbulence, and Westerfeld, fearing international travel might be over, declared "I love you" to Larbalestier. This moment, during a time of global crisis, solidified their bond and led to their elopement just weeks later.
A Chance Encounter at a Literary Event
Westerfeld first noticed Larbalestier at a literary award ceremony in New York City. She was wearing a dress upcycled from a black Velvet Elvis painting and talking to a man three times her age. He asked his friend Carol, who knew everyone, why he had never seen her before. Carol explained that Larbalestier was an Australian academic researching the history of publishing and introduced them.
When Carol introduced Westerfeld as a science fiction writer, Larbalestier glanced at him and shook her head, saying, "Not my period." She was studying science fiction's golden age, a time before either of them was born, and considered no one under 80 relevant. A week later, they ran into each other at a reading and discovered they were both fans of Samuel R Delany, Octavia Butler, Ursula K Le Guin, eggs with hot sauce, bushwalking, and exploring new cities.
Romantic Jet Lag and a Global Crisis
Despite both being in other relationships, they kept running into each other at science fiction gatherings. At a farewell dinner before Larbalestier returned to Australia, they made eye contact and both revealed they had just broken up with their respective partners. They spent her last weekend in New York City together, and then began months of phone calls and emails, navigating a 10-hour time difference.
In early September 2001, Westerfeld flew to Sydney to meet Larbalestier's family and friends. He was charmed by the city in spring, with the harbour sparkling and flying foxes invading the Royal Botanic Gardens. On the night of September 11, they were at Tetsuya's, one of Sydney's finest restaurants, enjoying a degustation. When they left at midnight, the staff seemed sombre, but they didn't learn about the attacks until the next morning when Larbalestier's flatmate said, "She says the Statute of Liberty exploded?"
They turned on the radio and lay in bed holding hands, listening to the news. They tried to call friends in New York but reached only overloaded circuits. All their friends were safe but shaken. Despite the crisis, they had a flight booked to Melbourne the next day to meet more friends. Boarding an aircraft on 13 September 2001 felt like tempting fate, and even the cabin crew wasn't pretending it was a normal flight.
A Declaration Amid Turbulence
Halfway to Melbourne, they hit turbulence, and Westerfeld realised that passenger jets were now weapons of war. He feared international travel might be over and that he couldn't see Larbalestier again for years. Instead of saying all that, he said, "I love you." His voice was calm and level, and Larbalestier replied, "Me too."
In Australia, Westerfeld experienced a sweet, unnerving kindness as people asked where he was from, treating him gently and giving him free drinks, and once, an actual fruit basket. The fruit basket became a running joke. They navigated the crisis by changing emotional gears, talking about the coming war one moment and sulphur-crested cockatoos the next. Westerfeld reflected, "With the world reorganising itself, we had to let each other feel the weight of history, but also remind each other to taste the wine in front of us."
The deeper question many New Yorkers asked after 9/11 was: "Who do you want to spend the apocalypse with?" Westerfeld found his answer. Justine returned to New York in November to meet his parents. By then, they were already married, having eloped upstate without telling their friends. They have been together ever since. Their book, The Mortons, is available now through Penguin ($AU34.99).
