9/11

It was a bright, sunny day. A day that makes you feel good to be alive: the morning commute was simply the opening movement for the symphony that is the day. It was perfect, except that 3000 of your fellow Americans wouldn't live long enough to see the sunset.

We were living at 3101 Windsong, #86 and I was just getting up out of bed for a day at work. The radio was blaring something that didn't quite make sense, so I went to turn the TV on. I saw the pictures of the fires. I saw the video of the airliners. When I saw the replays of the second airplane, it took my breath away, that awful feeling of adrenaline that hits your system when you are shocked, frightened and angry--all at the same time.

Then I saw the first tower fall.

Then the second.

I didn't know what to do, so I went to work.

CDc was very quiet, sales calls were down. They brought a TV out for people to watch. An announcement was sent to customers by email. I talked with Brian whose mom lived in New York (she was fine). Brian remarked how it was going to be strange, bizaare, weird to not see the World Trade Centers on the New York skyline anymore--they were such a part of his everyday experience growing up.