Where were you?

Today is a day of rememberance. Today is a day to be thankful for the things you have. Today is a day to voice your hopes, your wishes, your dreams… for yourself, your family, your friends, your fellow man, for this country, for this world.

On September 11, 2001, I was at a turning point in my life. I had just started dating my now-husband. I had a full-time job. I was enrolled in the Fall semester at my college. Things were moving along.

I was at work that morning, sitting at my desk, talking to my friend, Kim. We both got in at 8:30am and usually chatted before the day’s rush of work came in. We were talking about nothing special, possibly the Labor Day weekend that had just past, plans for her birthday, which was in the next few weeks, where my new relationship was going, seeing as I was dating her former roommate. You know, the usual blah blah blah.

We had been chatting for awhile when all of a sudden, Kim said, “You won’t believe this. We’re listening to the radio, and it was just reported that a plane hit one of the Towers.”

My response, “Are you kidding? Don’t they have people that monitor plane activity? How did that happen?”

There wasn’t anything else in the broadcast, so we resumed our mundane and inane conversation.

15 minutes later, and Kim stopped in midsentence. “Another plane just hit the other Tower.”

Both of us were silent. She was listening to the broadcast; I was waiting for her to report what it said.

I got one of those bad chills down my spine and that metallic taste in my mouth.

“Oh my God, one of the Towers collapsed.”

“Oh my God, the other Tower collapsed.”

And the world changed.

She had to immediately get off the phone and call everyone she knew in New York working at the Towers. She works in Finance, so she knew quite a few people.

And I sat in silence in my office with no windows, no internet, no radio, no television, no link to the outside world but my office phone.

The phone rang, and it was Harry. “Have you heard what’s going on?”

Work came to a screeching halt. Radios were found in the office and tuned in. People called their family and friends to make sure they were safe. We were only a short hour and 15 minute train ride to the city; it felt like it was going on right in our backyard.

Around 2pm, they sent us all home to be with our families. We all left in silence, trying not to run to our cars and get home as soon as possible to our loved ones.

I found Harry after seeing my parents, sister, and niece. He was at his local bar, drunk but somber. He was let out of work early too, but because he doesn’t really have any family, he went to his surrogate family instead… his bar friends.

We all sat and drank, but the bar was eerily quiet for a change. The TV was tuned into CNN instead of one of the games, and every head was turned to watch it.

The day ended with tears and fears. Questions. Hypotheses. Anger. Loss. Confusion.

8 years later, and all of that is still here.

We felt the blow a month later still when the company Harry had worked for for 7 years closed down. They manufactured aerospace parts, and after the plane attacks, their biggest client canceled a million dollar order. For a small-town company, there’s no way to bounce back from that.

I was also laid off the end of that year (not due to the attacks, mind you).

We started 2002 unemployed, pretty much penniless, and scared.

We got through it.

And now, on this day of rememberance, I am thankful for all I have. I am thankful that I live in this country. I am thankful for my wonderful family. I am proud that we’re still standing. I’m also still scared about the future… mine, my child’s, my country’s, the world’s.

But I have hope. I’ll always have hope.