Where you were? What you were doing? Who you were with?
I do. I was at home, with just Ben. I am not normally a daytime TV viewer, but for some reason that morning I turned on the TV. Shortly after the second plane crashed into the tower I called my mom. I didn’t understand what was going on. Here I was, a grown woman, a wife, a mother. Still in need of my own mom. I watched, numb, the images on the TV, while still keeping my mom on the line and trying to shield my toddler from the horror. I cried, I was scared. Never in my lifetime had I experienced anything like this. I am to young to remember the Vietnam war, and since the first Gulf War took place while I was in high school, it seemed so far removed. This was my first adult experience with tragedy. But this is not really about me, it is about the 3000 people who lost their lives that day. It started out as just another ordinary, beautiful day and before the day had hardly begun, it was over for them. Every one has their theories and opinions about 9/11. And while the deeper issues are Al-Qaeda, terrorists and possibly WMD’s, please remember this day that fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, sons and daughters lost their lives.
I have been to Ground Zero. I was there three years ago, and ironically got my pictures back from being developed on September 11. It was moving, to say the least.