story8123.xml

story8123.xml

born-digital

story

yes

no

2002-09-25

On September 11, 2001, I was home doing some housework, and my 4 year-old son was watching cartoons. My husband called me from work and told me to put on the news. I asked him which channel, and he said "I don't think it matters." When I asked him why, he said that 2 planes had just crashed into the World Trade Center. I said he must be joking, as I was walking over to the TV. I saw that it was anything but a joke, as I changed to a local channel. They were showing the video of both towers on fire and smoking. I thanked my husband for telling me, and told him I had to go so I could call my mother and brother. We are originally from northern New Jersey, so New York City was like a second home for us. The rest of my family is still in New Jersey, and I was worried that someone might be working in New York City that day. I checked with my Mom and brother, to make sure they knew what was going on. My mother said she would check in with my grandmother, to see if anyone in the family was working in the city. Thankfully, no one was. But, I had a good scare in the middle of the day, when I realized that one of my friends who worked in New York City took the PATH train to the World Trade Center every day, and then changed trains. He should have been there when the attacks happened. It took quite a while, but he finally called me back. I was so relieved to hear his voice! He had decided to work from home for a while that morning, so he was on a later train. That train was stopped before ever entering the city, so he was okay.

I watched nothing but news for 8 days. I yelled at my husband when he tried to change the channel. I sent my son to my bedroom to watch cartoons and movies, so that I could keep watching the news. I HAD to know what was going on every minute.

I am lucky to not have lost anyone personally in the attack, but I have friends and relatives who have. I still get very emotional when seeing pictures of the new skyline, and when seeing pictures of the way it was. It's been over a year now, and I still cry. I cry when I see pictures of the buildings, when I see stories about victims or their families, or just when I think about it for more than a few seconds. What a shame, what a waste of human life.

The terrorists have changed the world I am bringing up my son in. I resent this, but at the same time, I am glad that our eyes have been opened to the insanity that is religious fanaticism in the world of Islam. I pray for all of us.