story204.xml

story204.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-03-09

That was one of the most confusing and horrible days of my life. To start, I woke up to a beautiful, sunny day, and I walked my dog just like every other morning. That, however, was the last time I felt normal for quite a while. When I came back in, I saw the initial headline on the washingtonpost.com homepage, and because there was no story attached yet, I turned on my TV and saw the first tower engulfed in flames. I was horrified, but since there was no definite cause identified, I thought it was just an accident. Then as I watched, the second plane hit and another huge burst of flames and smoke exploded from the other tower, and I knew that there was something terribly wrong. My heart was crying as I watched the debris float from the tower, realizing that some of what was falling from the buildings were people.

I immediately sent an email to my parents because I knew they'd be checking at their desks at work, but they hadn't heard yet about anything. I continued watching the events unfold on TV, then all of a sudden the reports started coming in about the plane hitting the Pentagon. Of course, since I live in Arlington just a couple miles west of the Pentagon and I use the bus and subway station there when I go into DC, I was immediately worried. My mom, now that I had gotten her watching the news, sent me a frantic email telling me to stay home until we could get a better grasp on what was happening.

To be honest, I was very worried, somewhat panicked, and thinking about heading out to a friend's house about an hour and a half outside of DC, so instead of adding to the confusion on the already packed highways, I got away from the terrible images on the TV and walked out to my front yard for some sunlight and fresh air. There was a strange quiet outside. I live on a busy road that leads directly to the Pentagon, but there seemed to be less traffic than usual, and I imagined that everyone was glued to a TV or a radio trying to comprehend what was happening. As I said before, it was such a beautiful day, and I felt the cold irony of that juxtaposed against the terror I had just witnessed on the television.

I took a deep breath and walked down to the street and looked east towards the Pentagon and I could just see the smoke over the hills between me and it. I went back to my apartment and continued to watch the latest news, and watched as the towers buckled under the heat and damage to their structures and collapsed. I thought of all of the rescue workers who had just bravely charged into those buildings to save lives and who had given theirs instead. I sent silent, tearful thanks to them, and added my deepest condolences to those of the rest of the nation to the rescue workers' families. I sent off messages to a couple people I know who work in DC to make sure they were safe, and they were, but they soon joined the throng of people who had been sent home early from work.

Many of my family and friends sent emails or instant messages or called that day and those that followed to make sure I was okay and to discuss our disbelief and sorrow about what had happened. Even though I didn't know anyone directly who perished in the tragedies in NYC, the Pentagon, or in the countryside of Pennsylvania, I feel the events of that day have been indelibly etched in the way I approach my everyday life. It also has a binding effect on many people that I meet, because almost everyone shares in the pain that still echoes in the phrases "September 11th" and "9/11."