I was eight years old and homeschooled at the time. At about nine in the morning, news started popping up on tv as it was all happening. I knew it was bad, but, a lot of the details such as the towers collapsing might have gone over my head. It was so bizarre.
Seriously, though. To avoid death by lucky chance more than once is noteworthy. I suppose it could make a person feel invincible or as if they lead a charmed life, if they have that kind of outlook.
Wow, @Homer Potvin , that's quite a story. Thank you for sharing. Gotta wonder if there's now a spin-off universe where one tower survived bc your uncle stayed on that plane....
Haha, that was a little bit before my time into hardcore studying of Literature. I wouldn't mind re-reading the Narnia series in the future and taking notes on what I like (And don't like about it).
The girl who'd spent the night at my place woke me up telling me that a plane had crashed into one of the towers. My mind immediately flashed to a B-25 which had hit the Empire State Building in 1945, told her "It's happened before, it'll be okay", and went back to sleep. She woke me up again half-an-hour later with news of the second hit. I got dressed and went to the bar down the street to watch the news there (I didn't have a TV, she'd been following it on my computer). The bar was right down the street from the main entrance to Naval Base Ventura County, and it was surreal watching Pleasant Valley Road back up with traffic as the base was sealed off and barricades emplaced.
I remember getting text messages saying both towers were down and debating whether that was possible or not. Not sure why we decided to stay at the box instead of going to someplace with a TV, but we were known to drink there, and sooner or later every gaijin in the neighborhood dropped by. Early on, before we were sure it was real, I went up to the internet cafe upstairs to check the news, but every major new site was down due to the volume of traffic. I think that's when I started to believe it was really happening.
I came home from somewhere and Mom was like "America is under attack". Then we watched the news. I was 12, so I didn't quite understand the severity of the situation, that's all I remember.
September 11th was Mom's birthday (she died in 2013). She was making breakfast burritos to go, and I was getting ready for another day of 10th grade. My sister called down the stairs that a plane had hit the World Trade Center. I didn't know what the WTC was, so I figured it was a small private plane. That sucked, but it didn't register on my "Give-A-Damn" radar. The second tower was hit while Mom was driving me to school. I got to school about forty-five minutes before the first tower collapsed. Students were in the hallway watching TV, which was the first time I saw the planes. By then we knew it was an attack, but it hadn't sunk in for me. The rest of the day was a mix between watching TV and fighting teachers who tried to "protect us from the trauma."
School, 6th grade. Teach lied to us (for comfort, I suppose) and told us that a building fell and no one was hurt. We went home early that day and my mother was apart of the cleanup crew at ground zero. Don't remember much else.
