10 Years ago...where were you? Where was I.
I was sitting at my desk working first thing in the morning. My one boss came running out of his office saying a plane hit one of the two towers. It must have been some kind of joke right? No, radio confirmed. It must have been some kind of pilot error, heart attack something right?
We all turned on the new radio while working to listen to updates.
The second tower got hit.
My world, along with so many others crumbled. Two couldn't possibly be an accident.
We sat and worked and tried to contact those we knew in the area. We waited to hear more.
Driving home past the airport was such a strange feeling. Nothing in the air. That has never happened before. I got home and sat down and turned on the tv. The coverage was so much worse than the radio could express.
Then they fell.
I cried. I cried for hours. I couldn't stop watching. Are they okay? Did they all get out? What is going on?
My sheltered life in Toronto was still safe, but so badly shaken.
For weeks afterwards I so clearly recall listening for news of survivors, crying each time one was found and holding on to hope that more would be found.
I didn't lose anyone in the destruction. The people I knew who worked near there were safe. I was thankful.
10 years later, the world is a stranger place. People are still fighting a losing war. He's dead and yet they still don't come home. Why.
What was it all for? Why did they do what they did? Why did the US and Canada enter into something they clearly can't get back out of ?
I hug my kids today. I leave the tv off because I'm just not ready to see it again, or explain it to them. Let them keep their innocence a little while longer. They don't need to know just yet how evil people can be.
I was sitting at my desk working first thing in the morning. My one boss came running out of his office saying a plane hit one of the two towers. It must have been some kind of joke right? No, radio confirmed. It must have been some kind of pilot error, heart attack something right?
We all turned on the new radio while working to listen to updates.
The second tower got hit.
My world, along with so many others crumbled. Two couldn't possibly be an accident.
We sat and worked and tried to contact those we knew in the area. We waited to hear more.
Driving home past the airport was such a strange feeling. Nothing in the air. That has never happened before. I got home and sat down and turned on the tv. The coverage was so much worse than the radio could express.
Then they fell.
I cried. I cried for hours. I couldn't stop watching. Are they okay? Did they all get out? What is going on?
My sheltered life in Toronto was still safe, but so badly shaken.
For weeks afterwards I so clearly recall listening for news of survivors, crying each time one was found and holding on to hope that more would be found.
I didn't lose anyone in the destruction. The people I knew who worked near there were safe. I was thankful.
10 years later, the world is a stranger place. People are still fighting a losing war. He's dead and yet they still don't come home. Why.
What was it all for? Why did they do what they did? Why did the US and Canada enter into something they clearly can't get back out of ?
I hug my kids today. I leave the tv off because I'm just not ready to see it again, or explain it to them. Let them keep their innocence a little while longer. They don't need to know just yet how evil people can be.
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