This past week or so has been filled with reminders of the anniversary of 9/11. Tomorrow marks 10 years since the world changed forever.
Ten years and I still cry when I watch shows about the attacks. I’ve even been welling up watching commercials for the television specials on this weekend.
I still cry when I read articles about that day. People magazine just ran a cover story on Children Of 9/11. Ten children who never knew their fathers. Crying.
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It was around 8:45am and I sat on the couch to nurse Cam. I flipped on the Today Show while I waited for Regis and Kelly to come on. Breaking news came on that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. I thought “how awful” assuming it was a small personal aircraft.
Flipped over to Regis and Kelly where they mentioned it at the top of their show.
Soon after that the networks cut off to breaking news as a second plane crashed into the second tower. They were not small personal aircraft. These were not terrible accidents.
I was talking to Sean on the phone, relaying information to him. He and his colleagues were unable to gain internet access. The web was flooded with other people trying to get information.
“Something happened at the Pentagon. Sean this is not good.”
My attention was solely on the television. CNN. NBC. CBC. CTV. It was all that was on.
I was still on the phone with Sean, barely able to tell him that one of the towers had collapsed. I couldn’t believe that what I was watching was real. I was crying at this point.
It got worse. Another plane had crashed.
And then the second tower fell.
I sat terrified with my 5 month old on my lap. Watching the world change forever.
I called my best friend whose boy was born 9 days after Cam. We took our babies out for a walk on that gloriously sunny day, with not a cloud in the sky and the eery silence coming from it, knowing that airspace had been shut down – never in our lifetime had that happened. We spent the day together. Confused. A little shocked. Sad. And concerned about what kind of world our children would be growing up in.
I called my best friend whose boy was born 9 days after Cam. We took our babies out for a walk on that gloriously sunny day, with not a cloud in the sky and the eery silence coming from it, knowing that airspace had been shut down – never in our lifetime had that happened. We spent the day together. Confused. A little shocked. Sad. And concerned about what kind of world our children would be growing up in.
That’s what I was doing. That’s where I was on September 11, 2001. I will never forget.Where were you?
yes Kimmy – that’s where Andrea and I walked to. It’s all anybody was talking about and I just wanted them to stop. But I realized that they couldn’t. We needed to be there and we needed to talk about it.
I was driving after having dropped my oldest off at her grandmother’s house. I heard a about the first plane crash and thought how awful. I was spending the day with my newest girly. Tues was Mommy/daughter day all to ourselves. She was 3 months old and you must know as a mother of two children what a precious time it was.
I got a call from my husband saying a bomb? went off at the Pentagon and that he had coworkers who had people in the trade centre.
I turned on the TV. I was horrified and new this was not right. Hairs stood on end and nothing but disbelief at everything I was seeing. But then what? After watching hours of coverage seeing the towers fall, hearing of the crash at the Pentagon and in Pennsylvania I was in shock. I decided I would go to the “Calling New Parents” group I met with every Tuesday afternoon. We were all stunned and felt guilty. Being alive and free to met with our small babies. There is no rule book in a crisis so close to home and heart.
I became addicted to TV that day. I consumed everything they dished out and started to be glued to that thing more hours than not. Watching reality shows and late late late shows just to stay connected. Honestly it took about 5 years before I backed away. I do not watch TV the same way anymore.