I remember I was at work, getting ready to open the bookstore and to train a new employee at the register. Our maintenance guy knocked on the side door, and told us there had just been a big accident in New York: a plane had flown into a building.
The first customer, a guy picking up a book he had on hold, was visibly shaken, and told us all flights were grounded, that there had been another accident in Washington DC. We tried tuning in the radio, couldn't quite get reception, then decided to turn on the tv. I tried calling my dad, who traveled to DC regularly, and couldn't get through.
I can't quite remember if we saw the towers fall live, or if it was a replay, but the gut-wrenching feeling is unforgettable. The dust-covered survivors, paper and ash in the air...
Later on I got in touch with my dad, he wasn't sure if any of his colleagues or friends that were stationed at the Pentagon were affected. Short sentences. Stunned silences. Reminders to get gas in case the stations were to shut down.
Where were you? What do you remember about that Lonesome Day?
1 comment:
I was eating Duncan's pancakes, deep in a blissful postpartum fog. 3 week old Baby T was sleeping in the cradle in the dining room. NPR was playing over the kitchen radio. We watched the towers fall on live tv. Our tears distressed (then two years old) C, so we turned off the tv and tried to be "normal" for her sake.
It proved impossible to go back to that old "normal." I still haven't integrated the new one.
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