story9918.xml

story9918.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2003-09-11

I got to work at about 7:15 am CDT that day. A co-worker of mine came in about 7:45 and told me that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. By that time, the only news website that was not overloaded was BBC News, and they had a crystal-clear picture of one of the towers with a plane-shaped hole in it. We even cracked dark jokes about "how bad can that pilot be?". When we got word not long after that of a second plane hitting the other building, the mood changed from concern to quiet terror, especially when we heard about the Pentagon. One of our co-workers in our area had a small boom box in her car that she brought in so we could listen to the radio. Our phones were ringing constantly, friends and relatives calling to see if we'd heard what had happened. And showing my ignorance of how the World Trade Center was set up, I had thought it was just the two tall buildings; I didn't know there were five other, smaller buildings in the complex. So when they first said that one of the towers had collapsed, I initially thought they meant the radio tower on top of one of the buildings, no big deal, right? I eventually figured out that they had meant the buildings. Some people left at noon, not being able to handle it. Others went to the local Best Buy over lunch so they could see what was happening, and came back to us with reports. I didn't fully realize the gravity of the situation until someone at work said her husband had heard that as many as 20,000 people could be dead in NYC alone. That's when I asked for a hug, from the man who had initally told me about the first plane. Once I got home shortly after 4 pm, I was able to turn on the news, just in time to see World Trade building #7 collapse. And of course, images of the planes, the collapses, the news that the plane that had crashed in a field in Pennsylvania was linked to this, too. I was shocked, angry, saddened...although I didn't know anyone personally who died or was injured, friends of mine had friends, family, and co-workers who perished. I cried every day for at least a week after 9/11. I kept telling myself I would be fine, and then I'd turn on the news and see the people searching for their loved ones, flyers made on their home computers telling where their loved one worked, what they were last wearing, and a picture, each person begging that if anyone had seen them in a hospital, to call. I knew all those people were dead, and I think by the second or third day, most of those people knew it, too, but didn't want to admit it. I still get that empty feeling inside when I think about what happened. I watch the documentaries on 9/11, hoping that one of them will say, "Nope, it didn't really happen, it was a bad dream." But they never do.