September 11, 2006

Where were you?

I was sitting in my bathroom, putting on my makeup and getting ready for work. It was pretty late in the morning, but I worked for a company that allowed me to roll in any time I wanted to. Ahh...the days of the dot-com.

I had the morning news tuned to the Dallas FOX affiliate when I heard the network break in with news of a crash or explosion at the World Trade Center in New York City. I immediately left my bathroom and ran to the TV to watch the horror unfold. Reporters were already speculating on what had happened and I was furious that they were calling it terrorism so early on. No one knew that the first plane to hit the building was a passenger jet -- no one was 100% sure if it was even a plane. So why would they be saying so early that it was terrorism? Not long before September 11, 2001, PGA golfer Payne Stewart had died in a plane crash in which the aircraft lost pressure and went on auto pilot, eventually crashing as it ran out of fuel. I was sure that something of a similar matter had happened. No one in the world is evil enough to actually hijack a plane and crash it into on the world's tallest buildings.

But then, as I was yelling at the FOX news reporters, a second airplane came into view and a huge explosion errupted on my screen. I was stunned. I sat there, silent, my mouth agape, not being able to comprehend what I was watching. Certainly this was just a reply of the earlier event, but how could it be since now both buildings were burning? I must have realized what happened the same time the FOX newsroom realized it, because as I screamed an expletive, so did everyone on TV.

I called Todd on the way to work and he hadn't heard the news (he left his house very early every morning to drive to Fort Worth for work). He and his co-workers turned on the TV in their office and watched the replays over and over again.

I got to work to find that I was only the second one there. Most everyone else had opted to stay home, while a few co-workers trickled in. I tried to get on my computer for the latest update, but all Web sites were bogged down. I couldn't get on any of them -- local or national.

Then, as I sat and pondered the meaning of what had happened, news of the Pentagon came through the radio. Then Shanksville. I thought to myself, "No one is safe."

A co-worker ran in and said, "One of the towers fell." I just couldn't comprehend what that meant. The towers are each like 110 stories tall. A tower that size could never fall.

But it did. And minutes later, the remaining tower fell. I buried my head in my hands and sobbed. I was scared, sad, mad and confused, all at the same time.

Those of us in the office decided to go down to the bar atop which our office sat (we worked in a hip part of Dallas called Deep Ellum) and ask if we could watch their TV. They agreed and even provided us with beverages as we watched in terror. Finally, my boss called me on my cell phone and said, "Everyone just go home." We did.

Where were you?

Our show of solidarity.

On a much lighter note, here's a Devin's Doozie for you

Last night, as his is usual ritual, Devin came out of his room long after he should have been asleep. He hollered down at Todd, who was in the kitchen setting up the coffee maker for the next morning.

"Daddy..."

"Devin, Daddy is busy. He's fixing his coffee."

*Long pause*

"What happened to it?"

And finally...

We got our first giggle out of Grace last Tuesday, September 5. I was wiping some stray milk from her cheek and she started to cry. When I looked down, though, I realized she was smiling. It wasn't a cry -- it was a laugh. Apparently, she likes to be tickled!

Peace. Please.

Erin