Where were you on September 11th?

I was here in my home office near Los Angeles. As usual, I woke up before my partner/roommate, went to the living room and turned on CNN. Then I went to the kitchen to make coffee. I wasn't paying much attention to the news, but something about it seemed wrong. It wasn't the standard, everyday chatter. I went back to the living room and watched live coverage for about five minutes, trying to figure out what was really going on, then I went to my roomie's bedroom and woke him up. "Better get up and watch the news," I said. "Something really big is happening."

My roomie hates watching the news. This is the only time I ever woke him up to watch the news.

He came out to the living room and we sat there, dazed, watching the towers fall, hearing the reports about flight 93, etc. That day, we only received one phone call. It was from a client. He said "What are you guys doing today?" I said "We're watching THE NEWS" in a tone of voice that indicated that he should be watching the news too.

We were glued to CNN for the rest of the day. And through the next day. We were simply shocked, and it took us a while to get over it.

I had to go to Japan to service a control system I'd installed a year earlier only about two to three weeks after 9/11. Flights were allowed by then, but of course, severe precautions were being taken. My difficulty was that, when my passport picture was taken, I had a full beard, and frankly, I looked like all these terrorists that were all over the TV screens at the time. So, even though I'm a Canadian/American who has never been to any Arab country and has no connection whatsoever with Islamist extremism, the airport security assumed I was suspicious and gave me the full treatment. Ugh. I never want to go through that again. They let me on the plane, but when I got back, I got a new passport with a picture of me clean-shaven, just to reduce the suspicion.

 

I was asleep on my bed.

I was 8 years old and I still lived on the other side of the world, in the Philippines. All I remember is going to bed that night and waking up to hear EVERYONE talking about it. It's all a little vague. My clearest recollection was of my oldest friend, Lovely (yes that's really here name), telling me about what happened and something about how lame I was for not staying up late that night and watching it on TV. It was like we were talking about a movie.

I remember my mom was worried because my Dad lived in the States. So she was worried for his safety and for the safety of the rest of our extended family. I faintly recall her calling him on the phone.

Another story related but not quite pertaining to this was our flight to the States April the following year. We happened to catch a flight with some Muslim passengers. It makes sense considering there's a lot of Muslims in the Philippines, we neighbor Indonesia after all. But I remember how scared my mom was that flight. And how much I didn't understand why she was scared. She told me there were a lot of Muslims, and I remember giving her a 'so what' look.

 

I was 2 years old in my high chair being fed mashed bananas completely oblivious to anything remotely important. I can't remember a thing and i dont know if thats good or bad. I still dont quite beleive that anything that bad could happen. But i do want those that have come out alive to live well and happy. Greif is a horrible thing.

 

i was cat/housesitting in santa rosa, california... was watching the early morning news on tv while having breakfast, when it all took place... since i'm up at 6 and breakfasting soon after, i saw most of it in 'real' time... i was born/raised in the suburbs of nyc, worked and lived in manhattan for a time, so it hit home especially hard for me...

 

I was eight, and I had just came home from primary school when she was watching everything on the news. She was really upset about it, and I remember thinking she was being silly because it was in America and couldn't hurt us. :redface:

 

I was 12, at the start of year eight. I remember getting home from school at about 3.50 and chatting to my mum about the day I'd had when my dad rang. I can see her face falling and just saying in a dead voice, "There's been an attack on America. They think there's thousands dead." Being 12 I just thought it wasn't something that affected us in the UK, but I turned on the TV coverage all the same. By this point both planes had hit the World Trade Centre, and both towers were down, but we kept the coverage on. At the time the images of the second plane crashing didn't seem to affect me, but I've just watched it again and it wrenched my guts out and replaced them with hollow lead. I still can't watch people throwing themselves from the buildings. I'm not easily upset these days, but those individual tragedies really bring it home in a way the explosions and collapsing buildings just can't - it's not a piece of metal hitting other bits of metal, it's individual pieces of flesh and blood, and no imagining can change that they had arms and legs and were just ordinary people caught up in extraordinary, diabolical events.

I hope I never see anything like it again, just as my grandfather must have hoped to never see anything like the Second World War. Since that day there have been terror attacks over here, such as the 7th of July bombings and the attack on Glasgow Airport. Just prior to September 11th my school was subject to an IRA bomb threat, so I've experienced terrorism first hand. And that's something I fervently hope no one has to go through, even on a small scale.

 

I remember I was about 8 during the time, I was in elementary school and I remember when it was announced what happened, I felt shock and fear and I was very confused. I had a mature mind when I was younger, and I understood more than the others did, but I remember how scared I felt that something like that happened.

All the people who lost their lives that day will never be forgotten.

I am currently wearing a black string around my wrist in rememberance of all those who lost their lives that day and to show my love and care for all.

Please wear a black ribbon or sting in rememberance of that unforgettable day.

Loved and remembered forever.

 

I was coming home from school with a friend and my parents were watching the news. I don't remember that much about the day, but something that stuck was my friend asking my parents what movie that was. It really felt that unreal.

 

I was 10, and I didn't hear a single thing about it until I came out of school and my mum said, "Something really horrible has happened in America". We watched it on the news constantly after school. I think I remember being scared to see it happen, but reassured that I was far away from all the trouble. To be honest, I don't suppose I fully understood the severity of the situation.

A few days later my school gave us a writing task, in which we had to "imagine we are in the twin towers when the planes hit. Try to imagine how you'd feel and describe the situation". What kind of a fucked up assignment is that to give a bunch of 10 year olds? Or anyone, for that matter?

 

A pretty awesome assignment, if you ask me. I would've had a field day with it. Still, I do agree that it might've been a tad inappropriate.

As for the day itself? I was even younger than I am now, and bored with an America that -- in my mind -- hadn't seen anything interesting happen in a rather long while. I was fascinated with the body-count, intrigued by the idea of my own country being attacked, and elated by the knowledge that America was finally about to go to war again.

Then again, what can I say? I was a bit of a sadist when I was younger. And an all-around odd kid in general.

 

At the local library researching Atomism with some friends for a group presentation. One of our buddies told us and we all just thought he was joking. Then we saw a crowd crushing up against the library's one very small television...

 

I was sitting in my 12th grade history class. My classmates and I were sitting around waiting for our teacher to show up, and he didn't. We were just starting to wonder if we could leave, when he showed up about 25 minutes late, pale as a ghost, and explained to us what he'd just been watching on the tv in the teacher's lounge. It was really weird because it almost felt like he was making it all up. Most of the school ended up going home early, even though we were quite far away in Nova Scotia, so we could be with our families and see what was happening for ourselves.

 

The moment before I found out what was happening, I was putting my hair up in a pony tail, frustrated with my reflection and stubborn cowlicks. My dad and step-mom were in the kitchen brewing coffe, toasting bread, and idly chatting. I remember the house phone rang, and I looked at the clock; 6:42. My friend Julie was due to be there within the next five minutes and we were to walk to school together. My dad cursed before he asnwered the phone, and I knew it was because it was so early in the morning, and who could be calling at this time? It was my aunt Rachel who lived in Dallas, Texas at the time, hysterically shouting at my dad to turn the tv on. I continued with my getting-ready routine, and as my dad pushed the 'on' button, Julie walked in.
We were two feet out the back door when my dad stopped us.
"If anyone says anything about Marshal Law, come straight home. Don't tell anyone where you're going, don't stop anywhere in between, just come home."
"What's 'Marshal Law'?" I asked. Although I was almost 16 and top of my class in most subjects, anything government and politics related generally flew right over my head.
"It's when the government takes over."
I remember Julie scoffed, and I shrugged, and we left. My dad stood at the door alternately watching us and the sky until we got to the end of our block.

In every class I had that day we watched the news, everyone's eyes glued to the screens. I hadn't known what the Towers were before that day. At that time, in my narrow little world, anything east of Arizona was an 'unknown' for me; something I just didn't pay attention to. It didn't help that I never took geography, and Gov and Econ classes were my worst grades.

I remember thinking that if someone was able to arrange an attack of that scale against one of the most prized states in America, who's next? Where, next? And since the President has already delcared war against those responsible for the Towers, what will the next response be from us? War is war, and what's worse than war? An escalated version? How bad is this going to get?

 

I was eight. I remember the head of my elementary school (an Australian) coming into my classroom and announcing that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center and that we were safe where we were. I had never heard of the World Trade Center and was confused as to why she was telling us about a plane crash. I remembered having seen something about a plane crash on the news a few months earlier; that hadn't been a big enough deal to interrupt class.

People's parents started coming to pick them up. At first I thought it was funny that they all had dentist appointments at the same time. Then my mom came, and I realized something was wrong.

A girl's mother worked in New York. She was crying hysterically.

I remember getting home and watching the towers on Television. I remember pictures of people dancing in the streets in whatever country it was. I remember crying hysterically too.

 

I was five and too young to make anything of it. Each year after that had no effect on me, but then on year my Grandfather died and I understood what it felt like to lose someone very close to you. I imagined tens of thousands of people feeling this at the same time. I imagined the fear of those who were at the scene. I imagined the horror. Now it's clear to me, and every time I remember the event a part of me turns to stone. People tell us to move on and to forget. People spew conspiracy theories at us. Every time my sadness just grows stronger every time I think of that second day of infamy.

 

Was at school. High school sophomore....I think. Anyway, we didn't know about it. No one turned on the telly or anything. I only found out when I got home. I won't say anything further since people find this subject touchy.

 

I was in a ship off the Atlantic. A bunch of people were down below deck watching it on TV and I thought it was a movie at first. My first reaction was chills. Not because of the attack, but because of what it meant. We were going to war. Of course, Iraq didn't turn out to be nearly the militaristic threat it was made out to be. But chilling, all the same.

 

I was in the sixth grade 10 years ago. My classroom was on the third floor which meant we had a pretty clear view of the city from Queens, NY. I remember someone telling me to look outside the window. Eventually everyone's attention shifted to the towers. We didn't know how much of an impact this would have on our country. Never Forget 9/11

 

I was in school that morning, while my brother was in Southside Vocational school. It was my first year in high school. I think I was in my English class and then we heard the announcement over the intercom about the breaking news. We did not have TV in our class, apparently.

 

I had been sleeping overnight on the floor of the Air Mobility Command's air terminal at Elmendorf AFB in Alaska. I had left Kentucky the night prior and was flying space-available courtesy of the USAF on the way back to my duty station in Korea. I had been on emergency leave for my son to have surgery. Anyway, I woke up that morning and walked into the main terminal where the big screen TV at the other end was showing the North Tower burning and I thought, "What the f----?" And that's about when the second plane hit the other tower. At first, I was thinking it was some sort of a horrible accident. But that line of thought ended real quickly when that second plane hit.

By the time they announced the hit on the Pentagon, there was quite a crowd of folks around the TV. Interestingly, at almost the same time as CNN announced the Pentagon had been struck, the cell phones of about more than half of the “civilians” (guys in suits) all started ringing. And, the ones whose phones didn’t ring were dialing furiously. I remember hearing them asking those on the other end if their friends and co-workers we’re okay or if they’d seen them. Some of them had offices and friends in the side that was hit. That really drove the reality of it all home for me. One of the DA civilians in my office here survived the plane crashing just across the hall from him at the Pentagon. He was active duty Army at the time.

After all that had sunk in, I remember just being angry. I was so mad at whoever had done it that I could barely see straight. I remember saying out loud to the TV, “Whoever just did this just pissed off the sleeping dragon, cuz we’re going to kick their ass.” I remember thinking how much things were going to change because I knew we were going to war. Everything changed for me and every other Soldier that day.

I was supposed to fly out that morning to Hawaii, then on to Korea. I remember trying to pass the time by walking around the base. It would be around two in the morning, but it would still be light out. Every house I passed had thick blinds or aluminum foil in the windows to keep out the light. It was quite eerie. I couldn’t sleep well because the base hotel’s rooms were all full of Canadians whose plane would’ve run out of fuel and crashed into the Pacific if we hadn’t let them emergency land. Add to that, the scrambling of the F-15 Eagles every 30 minutes or so because an aircraft flew too close to our border… well… Six days later I finally landed at Osan AFB, Korea.

If only I’d missed that flight out of Wright-Patterson AFB in Indiana on the 10th…