I remember talking to my sister-in-law on the telephone, making plans to meet for lunch as the hosts of Good Morning America made conversation in the background. Life was solid then. Buildings stood upright. Terrorists were actors in movies. Airplanes were safe. Flight attendants gave us pillows and blankets, magazines and meals, and we worried mainly about making our connections on-time.
Before we decided on where or when, there was one airplane. And then another. I recognized the dark intentions of someone whose name I did not yet know. Covering my mouth, my eyes glued to the television, my sister-in-law and I talked at — rather than to — each other. We watched the flames and the slow, inevitable collapse as one tower and then the other sank into ashes.
I looked at my 25 month old son. Sitting on the kitchen floor, he’d built a tower out of wooden blocks. And, using a toy airplane, he laughed as he knocked it down.
I turned off the television, knowing we would soon go to war and that our world would forever be different.
Where were you eleven years ago today? What do you remember about life before 9/11?