story4109.xml
Title
story4109.xml
Source
born-digital
Media Type
story
Date Entered
2002-09-11
911DA Story: Story
I didn't know anyone killed in the World Trade Center, the Pentagon, or in Pennsylvania. In fact, I don't know anyone who lost anyone close to them. So, the visceral reaction I had to the attacks came as a surprise to me, as I'm sure it did to many throughout the nation and the world.
My story is of how the world changed in the time it took to dress my 11-month old daughter.
I like to watch Good Morning America as I dress for work. This day was no different. I listened to the news, the weather, saw the smiles of the audience and the hosts. I turned off the television in my room, and went to get my daughter out of her crib. I talked and sang to her while I dressed her and brushed her hair. Then, we walked to the sitting room, where I sat with her in my lap. It was our custom to rock and watch Good Morning America while she drank her morning bottle (Charlie Gibson makes her laugh).
Turning on the television--the one I had just left moments before--was like turning on a different reality. The first picture was the hole from the first plane spewing smoke and flames. What a terrible, terrible accident, I thought. Accident. But, as my baby finished her milk, the second plane hit, and I felt the collision in the pit of my stomach. No accident.
My daughter is almost two now, and old enough to sense when things aren't quite normal. Today, on the first anniversary of these attacks, she patted the red, white, and blue pin I attached to her shirt, and said, "special day."
My story is of how the world changed in the time it took to dress my 11-month old daughter.
I like to watch Good Morning America as I dress for work. This day was no different. I listened to the news, the weather, saw the smiles of the audience and the hosts. I turned off the television in my room, and went to get my daughter out of her crib. I talked and sang to her while I dressed her and brushed her hair. Then, we walked to the sitting room, where I sat with her in my lap. It was our custom to rock and watch Good Morning America while she drank her morning bottle (Charlie Gibson makes her laugh).
Turning on the television--the one I had just left moments before--was like turning on a different reality. The first picture was the hole from the first plane spewing smoke and flames. What a terrible, terrible accident, I thought. Accident. But, as my baby finished her milk, the second plane hit, and I felt the collision in the pit of my stomach. No accident.
My daughter is almost two now, and old enough to sense when things aren't quite normal. Today, on the first anniversary of these attacks, she patted the red, white, and blue pin I attached to her shirt, and said, "special day."
Collection
Citation
“story4109.xml,” September 11 Digital Archive, accessed January 9, 2025, https://911digitalarchive.org/items/show/7929.