I just finished reading this post and remembering what I was doing the morning the towers fell. I was getting ready to take the first Western Civilization test of my sophomore year of college and had stayed up far too late the night before squeezing in those last few bits of information. My roommates and I heard it on the radio and then ran down the hall to a friend's room that had a t.v. and watched enough to feel sick and worried for what was still to come. Most of the school gathered in the student lounge and watched the news all day while juggling phone calls to family and thinking about how to prepare for the worst if anything else should happen. Our professor still had us take our test and I can't believe any of us managed an A that day for all of the "what if's" running through our mind.
It's easy to feel like it was just another tragedy that people have commercialized and idealized until you start hearing personal stories of how it stole fathers and sisters and friends and a sense of safety. I can't imagine what it was like to be in NYC on that day and witness the fire and see the fear on people's faces as they tried to get to a safer place.
It all makes me sad today. I'm thankful that it still makes me sad. It helps me put things in perspective when I just want to be sad about the ants that have invaded my kitchen again or the fact that I can't do it all and do it well and have to let some responsibilities go. Its fitting that the weather is overcast and gloomy in Springfield.