We all remember where we were on 9/11. I was in college at Iowa State. I remember getting ready for class, sipping my coffee and watching the Today show. Katie Couric was talking about how Michael Jordan was going to be going back to the NBA. I went to brush my teeth and when I came back out the first tower was on fire. I went and woke up my roommate Nancy, and told her there was "something going on in New York" and that "it could be big news". How right I was.
I packed up and walked to campus for my Rhetoric class. When I got there, the attendance was slim and the professor had told us that a another plane had flown into the second tower. Since it was a rhetoric class, she asked us to pay attention to the language used in the media and asked us to go watch what was going on. We would talk about it on Thursday.
Campus was eerily quiet for an early fall weekday. The few people I passed, I could see concern in their eyes. I picked up the pace to my apartment and when I entered, I was surprised to see Nancy, sitting in the same place where I left her, watching the news.
Our other two roommates, who had gone to campus earlier in the morning came back. We all sat on our living room floor, watching, praying, crying. My roommate Stephanie was in a panic as her mother was in Washington D.C. on business and she couldn't get a hold of her. Kayla (another roommate) pulled out her Bible.
We cried, we prayed. I called my dad, I called my mom. I was excited for my afternoon class, Philosophy. What an appropriate day to have a philosophy class and ask, "WHY".When I got there, a sign was on the door. My professor had not made it back to Iowa State as he had been in Europe and his plane was grounded in Canada.
I went back to my apartment. A friend called me and said gas prices were skyrocketing so I left to fill up Beezer (my VW Rabbit pickup). I swung by the grocery store and grabbed milk, bread, enchilada fixins and beer, a college diet staples.
After cooking dinner for my roommates and friends, I blogged about my feelings on livejournal. It's angry. It's personal and it's still a little too much for me to share, just yet. It certainly doesn't feel like it's been 10 years, more like 10 days. I remember it all too well.
Watching the coverage brings back all of those feelings.
And the tears.