I remember the day. I was at work. The first reports came in. First one plane. Then the second. Then the news from the Pentagon. A field in Pennsylvania. You couldn't get to the online newspapers for the increased traffic. Someone dug out a radio and we listened. Then someone else found an old b/w tv, and we watched.
My cubemate spent some time trying to reach his brother, who he thought was at the WTC that day. IIRC, the brother had decided to take the morning off.
This defines my feelings pretty well. Odd, maybe, that as a writer I'm using the words of another to express my feelings on the subject, but I feel that if you find the right words, you leave them be. Even if they belong to someone else.
Planes going in and out of OHare from the north often fly along the lake. In addition, one of the approaches for the local field passes over my house. I can see the jets, big and small, higher than high or coming in for a landing, from my yard. I will always remember those days afterward, when all I saw were the birds, and empty sky.
My cubemate spent some time trying to reach his brother, who he thought was at the WTC that day. IIRC, the brother had decided to take the morning off.
This defines my feelings pretty well. Odd, maybe, that as a writer I'm using the words of another to express my feelings on the subject, but I feel that if you find the right words, you leave them be. Even if they belong to someone else.
Planes going in and out of OHare from the north often fly along the lake. In addition, one of the approaches for the local field passes over my house. I can see the jets, big and small, higher than high or coming in for a landing, from my yard. I will always remember those days afterward, when all I saw were the birds, and empty sky.