My brother and I just talked about it. We both remember coming downstairs after getting ready for school, and my mom was in the kitchen crying really quietly. I asked what happened and she mumbled something about "planes hitting the Twin Towers, in New York." It was before 9:02, so it wasn't yet apparent that it was anything more than an incredibly tragic accident. She shut the TV cabinet and gave us our lunches and pushed us out the door. We got on the bus. A bunch of kids I knew were really worried; the Towers' collapse meant that the Sears Tower was the tallest building in America again, and they were worried about their dads.
I got to school and, like Sail, lined up on a mostly-empty and quiet playground. Everyone was talking quietly about what was going on. We more or less had indoor recess the entire day, because the teachers were too busy moving back and forth to check the news and see what happening. A lot of kids were missing from class. We kept wondering when they would let us see a TV and find out something about why all the adults were so upset, but they never did. We played a lot of Connect Four and board games and waiting for the day to end, and shared worried stories with each other. Past midday, we heard that the towers fell, but no one told us anything else. I finally got the rest of the story when I got home, and I recall being really confused (I grew up mystified by the skyscrapers around me; how the hell could they get knocked over?) and sad, and falling asleep worried about what was coming next.
I watched the 9:02am footage where you can see the second plane hit just now. It's deeply unsettling.
Some of my first thoughts were "oh shit, everyone is going to blame this on terrorists and ruin everything." Being right is a pretty crappy consolation prize.
I was on a business trip at Argonne National Laboratory, and staying at their on-campus hotel. I watched a couple minutes of CNN(?) in the hotel lobby, just after the first plane had hit. They said they thought it was pilot error, and a small plane. I remember looking at the hole in the building and being confused, because either the windows were smaller than I would have thought, or it was a much bigger plane than they were saying, or I didn't understand physics.
I was in a meeting room with a bunch of people waiting to get started on our discussions as the news kept coming in. My dad was in DC, and I felt better once my brother had reached him. They eventually evacuated the lab and I spent the day watching CNN at a friend's nearby home. One of our common friends was watching online as all the servers under the WTC gradually stopped responding.
Later that week I rode back to Boston in a rental car with friends who were at a different meeting in Chicago. There was a strange vibe at all the interstate rest stops. Everybody had blank eyes.
I really can't watch the video or read the articles from that time anymore without feeling very sad and then feeling the very intense desire to murder the shit out of someone. I've even managed to stop thinking about how horrendous the administration of the country was at the time. Incidentally, I've become a little sickened by some of the 9-11 displays I've seen televised or as I was driving around. Something about parades and pageantry during such a sorrowful time leaves me with great distaste.
In the city I was, in a huge crowd running uptown.
I don't really think I want to see any of those videos just yet. I was able to see firsthand people jumping to their deaths from both towers. Just seeing photographs of that sort of sent my stomach spiraling.
Got tickets to the memorial tomorrow though. The heightened police activity and number of helicopters in the air fills me with irrational worry, but it's still something I want to see.
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I got to school and, like Sail, lined up on a mostly-empty and quiet playground. Everyone was talking quietly about what was going on. We more or less had indoor recess the entire day, because the teachers were too busy moving back and forth to check the news and see what happening. A lot of kids were missing from class. We kept wondering when they would let us see a TV and find out something about why all the adults were so upset, but they never did. We played a lot of Connect Four and board games and waiting for the day to end, and shared worried stories with each other. Past midday, we heard that the towers fell, but no one told us anything else. I finally got the rest of the story when I got home, and I recall being really confused (I grew up mystified by the skyscrapers around me; how the hell could they get knocked over?) and sad, and falling asleep worried about what was coming next.
I watched the 9:02am footage where you can see the second plane hit just now. It's deeply unsettling.
I was in a meeting room with a bunch of people waiting to get started on our discussions as the news kept coming in. My dad was in DC, and I felt better once my brother had reached him. They eventually evacuated the lab and I spent the day watching CNN at a friend's nearby home. One of our common friends was watching online as all the servers under the WTC gradually stopped responding.
Later that week I rode back to Boston in a rental car with friends who were at a different meeting in Chicago. There was a strange vibe at all the interstate rest stops. Everybody had blank eyes.
I've even managed to stop thinking about how horrendous the administration of the country was at the time.
Incidentally, I've become a little sickened by some of the 9-11 displays I've seen televised or as I was driving around. Something about parades and pageantry during such a sorrowful time leaves me with great distaste.
I don't really think I want to see any of those videos just yet. I was able to see firsthand people jumping to their deaths from both towers. Just seeing photographs of that sort of sent my stomach spiraling.
Got tickets to the memorial tomorrow though. The heightened police activity and number of helicopters in the air fills me with irrational worry, but it's still something I want to see.