September 11

I remember.  I still remember the cold, calm fear that wrapped my heart as I saw the smoke rise from the Pentagon that day.  I remember rushing downstairs, hurrying out the front door past the agency head — who was trying in vain to get the intercom system to work.  I remember standing on the sidewalk in the bright morning sky, wondering how I would get home with the metro closed (rumor) and bombs hitting buildings all around me (also rumors, although we didn’t know it at the time).  I remember dialing my cell phone over and over, trying to check on my husband, working a world away in the suburbs.  I remember the instant all our cell phones stopped working, even for texts.

I remember standing on the sidewalk with all of humanity, wondering what would happen to us now.

9-11.  I will never forget.

For more rememberences, surf over to Bridges today.  It will move you.

4 Responses to September 11

  1. liz says:

    i remember, too.

  2. Zip n Tizzy says:

    Glad you are here to talk about it. It was a tough time.

  3. Susan K says:

    This is our JFK moment.

    I remember as a child, overhearing my parents’ dinner party conversations – more than a decade later.. “Where were you…?”

    I remember where I was when I heard about the Challenger exploding.

    And I will always remember, watching The Today Show, hearing (but not seeing – camera was across the water from NJ) Katie Couric say incredulously, “what is going on?” And later, hearing Matt say, “does it look like it is leaning?” Grateful that miraculously I was home that day – not 50 miles by train away from my 1 year old in daycare. Grateful that I spoke to my husband – at O’Hare airport – before I knew I needed to actually be worried about him on an airplane that morning. Calling my boss, isolated and oblivious in her office in DC, “do you know what is happening??”

    Sometime in the next few weeks I am going to the Pentagon. That memorial looks perfect.

  4. CuriousParty says:

    I was in graduate school, halfway across the country, and all my family and friends were here – in Boston, in NY, in DC. I remember finding out, I remember frantic phone calls, I remember hysterical crying in fear, then relief, then deep, deep grief that my city would never be the same.

    I remember that my school did not cancel classes, and that flags were not lowered, and that I have never felt so intensely, terrifyingly alone.

    Every year I wear black, and I remember.

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