I wrote this as a comment on Patrick Hester's blog about where he was on September 11, but it wouldn't post for some reason. I'd played with writing a post on this anyway, so, instead of wasting the words, I'm putting them here and adding a few more.
It's hard to believe it's been 12 years since the towers came down. Gina teaches sixth grade. The kids she's teaching this year were born after September 11. It's weird. I don't know why, but it is. I guess it's just the passage of time. It seems to have gone so quickly.
Twelve years ago today, I was at home. I was working in newspapers at the time. I was on the production side, and my work day didn't start until 3 p.m. Didn't end until after midnight, so I was asleep. Mom called to tell me that something was going on in New York. I got up and turned on the TV in time to see the second plane crash into the towers.
I watched stunned until about noon when it dawned on me that I was probably needed at the office. I made a call and went in shortly after. The rest of the day is a blur of news and newspapering.
I don't always think I have the same emotional memories of that day that others have. My day wasn't spent watching the coverage and talking to friends and relatives about what was happening, but watching the news wires and working with editors to put out a special edition in the early afternoon then three more regular editions that night.
Once I did get home, though, I didn't go to bed even though I was exhausted. I turned on the TV and watched the overnight coverage. It was mostly just people in New York walking around the dark streets. Still, I couldn't turn it off.
So where were you? What were you doing? What are you memories?