I had gotten up early that morning; I had cut my finger badly at work the night before and my mother wanted me to show my father before he left for work himself. I couldn't go back to sleep, so I got up and settled in with her to watch television. We were watching NBC when they cut in with the news that a "small plane" had hit one of the towers of the World Trade Center. The information came in sudden spurts, and the picture grew clearer and clearer. They focused on the gaping hole in the tower, and we watched while live on TV the second plane flew into the other.
It was unsettling to say the least, and the image is definitely burned into my memory.
I remember what I ate that day, how I felt going to work that night, and how my friends and I all arranged to meet up that evening to sit and talk together.
I can't believe it's been five years.
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If I am not better, at least I am different. --Jean-Jacques Rousseau
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