I was sitting on the couch with my two kids, reading a history book, I think. My husband called to say a plane had crashed into the Twin Towers. A voice in the office corrected him and he came back to the receiver to say two planes had hit. We didn't have cable back then, seeing no need, so when I turned on the TV I half-expected the static blue snow that showed the channels were out. Most of them broadcast from WTC and we had already had this experience from the first attack in 1993. Only one station had reception, and it was so poor that I could barely see. As I ran to see if I could get better reception from a smaller spare set we had in another room, my daughter yelled that the buildings were falling. Surreal. For me, the sound and vision of electronic emptiness will always be my impression of that day, like staring into the vast ocean from a small island in the middle of nowhere. In hindsight, I'm grateful for the scrawled jumping image that saved my children from a much more frightening scene. I was also thankful to have my sweet children near me, homeschooling, and my husband working merely minutes away. We were only worried about my mother in midtown, and my cousin who worked further downtown. Over the next few days I tracked down every friend I knew who worked or lived in the area. I wanted to know they and their families were safe. They were.
My mother has two posts now on September 11 memories. I know she's planning a third. I hope my readers can take the time to check her blog Inner Elder.
My sister's birthday is September 11. I must shamefacedly admit that I forgot to send a card, the second I've forgotten this month (happy belated birthday Aunt Kathy!) so please leave birthday comments in my blog or hers and I'll make sure she sees them. She has a fairly new blog PixPoet, and two very active little boys who make sure she has no time to post on it. If I could give her a gift, it would be an extra day to celebrate. To all those celebrating a birthday on this day, I wish you happy new memories, peace and laughter.