We weren’t around when Martin Luther King or John F. Kennedy were shot, but we grew up hearing stories about where our parents and teachers were at the moment they found out about those tragedies. September 11, 2001 was definitely the “where were you” moment of our generation. Here’s our story, and we hope you’ll share yours in the comments.
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Emily:
In the fall of 2001, I was newly-married, newly-graduated from college, and unemployed. We had spent the night of September 10 in the emergency room, discovering that Andy had a hernia and needed surgery. Recovering from that eventful night, I slept late on September 11 and woke up in time to go to my mid-morning dentist appointment. I called my grandma to tell her the news about Andy, and she told me a plane had hit the World Trade Center, but no one was sure if it was an accident or what. I listened to the radio on my way to the dentist office and it was on during my appointment, and I remember thinking how strange it was to be doing something as mundane as having my teeth cleaned when something so dramatic was going on in NYC. After my appointment, I went back to our apartment and turned on the television. I remember talking to friends and family members on the phone and over IM, and as my friend Jana and I sat on the phone in complete silence, we decided she should come over to watch the coverage with me. We went to the McDonald’s drive thru to get lunch, and by that time, the hysteria was starting to set in. The drive thru worker told us to fill up our gas tanks in case we had to go anywhere. Where we would go in order to be safer than small town Ohio is beyond me, and I can’t even remember if we heeded her advice. Anyway, I remember seeing the barn and the cornfield across the street against the bluest sky, and wondering how something so awful could happen on what should have been such a perfect day.
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Jenny:
I was at work that morning. Twenty-four years old, and still innocent, really, in a way that hardly seems possible. I worked in a building that was part of a State University, right next to Wright Patterson Air Force Base. We heard some loud planes taking off. I remarked to my boss how loud they were. Just then one of my fellow co-workers came in and told us a plane had hit the World Trade Center, he had been in his car and heard it on the radio. Immediately after someone from the building’s main office told us to come to the office and watch tv. “What happened?” I asked dumbly. By this time the first tower had fallen. I looked at the smoky ruins, the vehicles covered with ash, and one of the ladies in the office told me again, that a plane had crashed into each tower. That it was a terrorist attack. I stared at her, confused beyond belief. “Did they let the people off the plane first?” I asked. She looked at me and just sadly shook her head. Then it HIT me. I asked that question, maybe the dumbest question EVER, I don’t know, but it made sense to me, because I couldn’t comprehend. I couldn’t comprehend. And it breaks my heart that now I do.
They sent us home, because we worked in a government building, and we were non-essential employees. I curled up on the couch and watched TV. That’s really all I remember, until about 5:30. Bobby was home already, and a loud boom shook our house. Our windows rattled, and we ran outside. There were people outside, yelling, I heard one lady yell for her kids to get in the basement. Bobby and I started talking about whether to get the heck out of dodge. We talked about going to his dad’s cabin north of town, where it would be safer. Then, finally, the news reported that the sonic boom had been from jets taking off at the Air Force Base, to accompany Air Force One as it carried the President back to Washington.
The next day, I cried when I had to get out of bed. I didn’t want to go to work, didn’t want to leave my house. I was so scared. And changed.
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Our hearts are truly with our country today, and with all those who were touched directly by tragedy on that day.
