Where were you when you found out?
I was in my house, having just finished school. I remember feeling peckish and I had poured myself a bowl of cerial (it was a fairly hot day and I found it quite refreshing at the time)
I remember suddenly hearing the door burst open and my my rushing in, telling me to turn the TV on to the news. Me and my sister didnt have a clue what was going on. My mum changed the channel and I remember the seeing images of the first tower hit. There was a distinct feeling in my chest, worse than fear. It was absolute disbelief.
Of coarse, for the rest of the day, we were glued to the television, watching the events unfold in their horrific way. I distinctly remember this growing fear in the back of my mind that the military camp near us was going to be attacked.
The following day, on the school bus going into the camp, we were stuck in traffic for about 40 mins at the check point. Everyone's IDs were checked, every car was inspected and everyone was asked questions about their vehicle - 'had it been left unattented and out of your sight at anytime?' - those types of questions.
When we got to school, I remember there was an emergency assembly in the hall for our year group. We were assured that our military camp would not be attacked, however we were told to watch out for anything supicious and that special and random searches would be conducted in the school. Every now and then (leading up to about two years) we would get an announcment over the intercom that "Operation: Wide Awake" was in action. Our teachers would then ask everyone to check under their desks, behind cabinets and everywhere. After which, our teachers would report back.
It was certainly a very strange time on our military camp, even more for me as I lived off the camp and in a small british owned area. Everyday for several months, we were stuck at the checkpoints, getting our IDs checked and asked questions.
The events of 9/11, and the days that lead after, certainly had awakened me from a naive slumber - the world was not a safe place. For the first time in my young adult life, I had seen the TRUE evil of man.
I can only hope and pray that the friends and families of the victims can move on with their lives.
We shall never forget.
I remember suddenly hearing the door burst open and my my rushing in, telling me to turn the TV on to the news. Me and my sister didnt have a clue what was going on. My mum changed the channel and I remember the seeing images of the first tower hit. There was a distinct feeling in my chest, worse than fear. It was absolute disbelief.
Of coarse, for the rest of the day, we were glued to the television, watching the events unfold in their horrific way. I distinctly remember this growing fear in the back of my mind that the military camp near us was going to be attacked.
The following day, on the school bus going into the camp, we were stuck in traffic for about 40 mins at the check point. Everyone's IDs were checked, every car was inspected and everyone was asked questions about their vehicle - 'had it been left unattented and out of your sight at anytime?' - those types of questions.
When we got to school, I remember there was an emergency assembly in the hall for our year group. We were assured that our military camp would not be attacked, however we were told to watch out for anything supicious and that special and random searches would be conducted in the school. Every now and then (leading up to about two years) we would get an announcment over the intercom that "Operation: Wide Awake" was in action. Our teachers would then ask everyone to check under their desks, behind cabinets and everywhere. After which, our teachers would report back.
It was certainly a very strange time on our military camp, even more for me as I lived off the camp and in a small british owned area. Everyday for several months, we were stuck at the checkpoints, getting our IDs checked and asked questions.
The events of 9/11, and the days that lead after, certainly had awakened me from a naive slumber - the world was not a safe place. For the first time in my young adult life, I had seen the TRUE evil of man.
I can only hope and pray that the friends and families of the victims can move on with their lives.
We shall never forget.
Amen. Well-put, Keith.
At the time, I was working guest services at the Kingsmill Resort (I was 19 at the time, too young to work for the P.D.) I had just finished running an errand at one of the villas and was driving the company van back to the conference center. As I recall, I was listening to two of my favorite morning personalities on the radio - Chuck and Jenna - on 94.9 FM (The Point). I remember that Chuck was mid-sentence about some irrelevant topc, when he paused, and asked Jenna, "Why does everyone keep looking in here?" There was another pause, and some background noise, and a moment later, Chuck started speaking again.
"Okay...I've just been handed a note...we have an unconfirmed report that a small aircraft has just struck the World Trade Center," he announced. There was some back-and-forth speculation about whether or not it had been caused by pilot error or a malfunction, and I remember Jenna calling it a 'tragic accident.'
Curious, I decided to forego immediately returning to the conference center and drove instead to Eagle's, a tavern at the Kingsmill country club. I walked in through the front door at 9:01 AM Eastern. As I made my way over to the bar, I greeted the bartender and the few sparse patrons that were there. The TVs over the bar were tuned to CNN, and the volume was up. A female commentator was giving a recap of events as the camera showed a live feed of a tight angle on the hole in the north tower, with the south tower visible in the background. As the commentator spoke, there was a tremendous explosion, and the camera shook as a ball of fire and a shower of debris exploded from the lower right corner of the screen. The camera panned down onto the site of the explosion as the commentator breathlessly announced that a second plane had just struck the trade center. Moments later, she also added that it was now being considered an act of terrorism. I watched in horror, transfixed by what I was witnessing.
Shortly thereafter, I was called away from the tavern to pick up some guests from a far section of villas and shuttle them to the conference center. Several ladies in business attire boarded the van when I arrived. One of the executives, a dark-haired lady in a brown pantsuit, rode up front with me, speaking angrily about the attacks.
"It's those damn Arabs. It's got to be. Those motherfucking Arabs."
While Chuck and Jenna announced that all flights across the United States had been cancelled, and minutes later, that the Pentagon had been hit, the ladies disembarked at the conference center, and I walked in with them. A knot of people, representing a cross-section of alll walks of life, were gathered in the lobby, watching a wall-mounted television, which displayed a wide angle of the smoldering towers. The conceirge on duty, a normally flamboyant man in his mid-40s, had a somber expression on his face as he acknowledged my arrival. I spoke with him briefly - I don't remember what the conversation was about - and walked over to join the crowd of onlookers at the television set. Moments later, the south tower collapsed, live on international television. Gasps of shock and horror echoed through the resort's opulent lobby, and the conceirge dissolved into tears, disappearing into a back office as the tragedy became unbearable for him to watch.
"I've got clients in that building who are probably dead now," muttered a businessman in a crisp black suit who stood beside me.
I didn't know what sort of condolences to offer.
As the day wore on, and horror after horror unfolded, an eerie quiet descended on the resort in spite of the calamity of travellers, some from overseas that were now stranded in the United States, clamored to make alternate travel arrangements. The skies overhead, normally active with air traffic, became deserted, save for a formation of four fighters, which screamed up the James River around 11:00 AM, disappearing over the horizon. Unable to make any sense of the tragedies unfolding, the resort staff and guests turned toward each other for comfort and support. When my shift ended, I rushed home, where my mother already had the news on, and she and I followed the search for survivors throughout the evening, and into the next day...and the next...and the next. The coverage was unprecedented - and on every channel - even MTV, VH1, and BET had completely thrown out their programming, and were feeding the CNN coverage directly. Before long days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. I find it nearly inconceivable that five years have passed since that day, which stands out in my memory unlike any other event I've ever borne witness to.
We will never forget. We cannot forget. We must not forget.
At the time, I was working guest services at the Kingsmill Resort (I was 19 at the time, too young to work for the P.D.) I had just finished running an errand at one of the villas and was driving the company van back to the conference center. As I recall, I was listening to two of my favorite morning personalities on the radio - Chuck and Jenna - on 94.9 FM (The Point). I remember that Chuck was mid-sentence about some irrelevant topc, when he paused, and asked Jenna, "Why does everyone keep looking in here?" There was another pause, and some background noise, and a moment later, Chuck started speaking again.
"Okay...I've just been handed a note...we have an unconfirmed report that a small aircraft has just struck the World Trade Center," he announced. There was some back-and-forth speculation about whether or not it had been caused by pilot error or a malfunction, and I remember Jenna calling it a 'tragic accident.'
Curious, I decided to forego immediately returning to the conference center and drove instead to Eagle's, a tavern at the Kingsmill country club. I walked in through the front door at 9:01 AM Eastern. As I made my way over to the bar, I greeted the bartender and the few sparse patrons that were there. The TVs over the bar were tuned to CNN, and the volume was up. A female commentator was giving a recap of events as the camera showed a live feed of a tight angle on the hole in the north tower, with the south tower visible in the background. As the commentator spoke, there was a tremendous explosion, and the camera shook as a ball of fire and a shower of debris exploded from the lower right corner of the screen. The camera panned down onto the site of the explosion as the commentator breathlessly announced that a second plane had just struck the trade center. Moments later, she also added that it was now being considered an act of terrorism. I watched in horror, transfixed by what I was witnessing.
Shortly thereafter, I was called away from the tavern to pick up some guests from a far section of villas and shuttle them to the conference center. Several ladies in business attire boarded the van when I arrived. One of the executives, a dark-haired lady in a brown pantsuit, rode up front with me, speaking angrily about the attacks.
"It's those damn Arabs. It's got to be. Those motherfucking Arabs."
While Chuck and Jenna announced that all flights across the United States had been cancelled, and minutes later, that the Pentagon had been hit, the ladies disembarked at the conference center, and I walked in with them. A knot of people, representing a cross-section of alll walks of life, were gathered in the lobby, watching a wall-mounted television, which displayed a wide angle of the smoldering towers. The conceirge on duty, a normally flamboyant man in his mid-40s, had a somber expression on his face as he acknowledged my arrival. I spoke with him briefly - I don't remember what the conversation was about - and walked over to join the crowd of onlookers at the television set. Moments later, the south tower collapsed, live on international television. Gasps of shock and horror echoed through the resort's opulent lobby, and the conceirge dissolved into tears, disappearing into a back office as the tragedy became unbearable for him to watch.
"I've got clients in that building who are probably dead now," muttered a businessman in a crisp black suit who stood beside me.
I didn't know what sort of condolences to offer.
As the day wore on, and horror after horror unfolded, an eerie quiet descended on the resort in spite of the calamity of travellers, some from overseas that were now stranded in the United States, clamored to make alternate travel arrangements. The skies overhead, normally active with air traffic, became deserted, save for a formation of four fighters, which screamed up the James River around 11:00 AM, disappearing over the horizon. Unable to make any sense of the tragedies unfolding, the resort staff and guests turned toward each other for comfort and support. When my shift ended, I rushed home, where my mother already had the news on, and she and I followed the search for survivors throughout the evening, and into the next day...and the next...and the next. The coverage was unprecedented - and on every channel - even MTV, VH1, and BET had completely thrown out their programming, and were feeding the CNN coverage directly. Before long days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. I find it nearly inconceivable that five years have passed since that day, which stands out in my memory unlike any other event I've ever borne witness to.
We will never forget. We cannot forget. We must not forget.
I remember I was in the eighth grade. I had just walked into third period when my teacher turned on the tv. We sat the whole period, lesson lost out the window, watching the news. I was dumbfounded. I thought surely this isnt possible.
After the period there was just a lull over the school. Students were silent. No one really talked. In each class the tv was left on in the background as the teachers attempted to have class, but to no avail.
Getting home that afternoon nothing could get it off my mind. And to this day I will never forget what happened.
Today KSU had flags up along one of the paths. There was one flag for every life lost and the 24 that are still missing. This is one thing that America will never forget.
God Bless America
After the period there was just a lull over the school. Students were silent. No one really talked. In each class the tv was left on in the background as the teachers attempted to have class, but to no avail.
Getting home that afternoon nothing could get it off my mind. And to this day I will never forget what happened.
Today KSU had flags up along one of the paths. There was one flag for every life lost and the 24 that are still missing. This is one thing that America will never forget.
God Bless America
Admittedly, I was asleep—for the first attack, but I’d woken up before the Pentagon was struck. My mom told me that a plane had struck the Pentagon, so I didn’t know that there had actually been four separate strikes until I saw the news for myself. I really couldn’t believe it—how could someone hit America on this scale? Aren’t we the best? What really gets me is the Pentagon attack—how could they let that happen—it’s our military headquarters!
The next thing that surprised me was that the buildings collapsed. I didn’t’ think that’d happen. I thought, man—I bet a couple hundred people just died… but I didn’t think that a plane-strike that high up on a tower would cause it to collapse. Ironically I had just read a book by Tom Clancy where a Japanese fanatic uses an airplane to decimate congress.
And then, strangely, when I got to school… hardly anyone knew about the attacks! I too had been in 8th grade at the time, but I went to a massive school with 1500 kids yet there wasn’t much talk in the halls about it at all. I had no idea the importance of the event—I didn’t see it as much more than the Oklahoma City bombing—I had no idea the repercussions it would have. I assumed that we’d send some special forces to neutralize whatever organization attacked us, but I didn’t think we’d go to war in both Afghanistan and Iraq. It really just shows that when a man is willing to trade his life for something he can do nearly anything.
For the first few days after the attack I just looked around at the people around me and watched the news—I didn’t realize how much it had hurt us. The attacks did something to us that I didn’t think could happen so easily—it killed America’s pride. There has always been this myth of American invincibility; no one dare touches American soil—but not only was our soil defiled—it was done so by a bunch of Arab dudes living out in caves! That, I think, is why the attacks hurt so much, because we were bested, on that day at least, by the people we considered to be far beneath our attention. Perhaps it’s best that our pride has this scuff upon it, that we do not hold ourselves aloof, but it was a terrible, terrible price.
I found a lot of symbolism in the attack—perhaps exactly what the terrorists planned. They took our great machines—something they lack, and hit us at our highest point, killed some of our best people, some of our most powerful people, some of our wealthiest people—all people who succeeded in the Capitalist system. I know that on that day that many Arabs (and please guys don’t think I’m being racist at all, you all know I’ve spent time in the middle-east and have great respect for the arab people) felt that they were David, and had just struck Goliath with a stone (and no pun intended with a biblical reference).
All I know is on that day, and those following it, I was very sad, and very mad. I still am, and I fell like it’s brought upon us a dark era. Like some sort of slow decline from which we can’t really recover. I remember in some of the video footage I saw later, hearing the thumps on the roof of a lower section of the tower as bodies and debris hit it, and what a person must be experiencing to choose to jump. I am very mad for the lack of honor in the attack—it’s completely wrong to strike out against people in that way. It may be the worst thing you can do. I truly hope that the age of terrorism ends with a new president—I feel that our current President just has this cloud attached to him no mater what. I don’t want history books to say that the information age was followed by the age of terrorism—I don’t want that to be the chapter I lived in.
The next thing that surprised me was that the buildings collapsed. I didn’t’ think that’d happen. I thought, man—I bet a couple hundred people just died… but I didn’t think that a plane-strike that high up on a tower would cause it to collapse. Ironically I had just read a book by Tom Clancy where a Japanese fanatic uses an airplane to decimate congress.
And then, strangely, when I got to school… hardly anyone knew about the attacks! I too had been in 8th grade at the time, but I went to a massive school with 1500 kids yet there wasn’t much talk in the halls about it at all. I had no idea the importance of the event—I didn’t see it as much more than the Oklahoma City bombing—I had no idea the repercussions it would have. I assumed that we’d send some special forces to neutralize whatever organization attacked us, but I didn’t think we’d go to war in both Afghanistan and Iraq. It really just shows that when a man is willing to trade his life for something he can do nearly anything.
For the first few days after the attack I just looked around at the people around me and watched the news—I didn’t realize how much it had hurt us. The attacks did something to us that I didn’t think could happen so easily—it killed America’s pride. There has always been this myth of American invincibility; no one dare touches American soil—but not only was our soil defiled—it was done so by a bunch of Arab dudes living out in caves! That, I think, is why the attacks hurt so much, because we were bested, on that day at least, by the people we considered to be far beneath our attention. Perhaps it’s best that our pride has this scuff upon it, that we do not hold ourselves aloof, but it was a terrible, terrible price.
I found a lot of symbolism in the attack—perhaps exactly what the terrorists planned. They took our great machines—something they lack, and hit us at our highest point, killed some of our best people, some of our most powerful people, some of our wealthiest people—all people who succeeded in the Capitalist system. I know that on that day that many Arabs (and please guys don’t think I’m being racist at all, you all know I’ve spent time in the middle-east and have great respect for the arab people) felt that they were David, and had just struck Goliath with a stone (and no pun intended with a biblical reference).
All I know is on that day, and those following it, I was very sad, and very mad. I still am, and I fell like it’s brought upon us a dark era. Like some sort of slow decline from which we can’t really recover. I remember in some of the video footage I saw later, hearing the thumps on the roof of a lower section of the tower as bodies and debris hit it, and what a person must be experiencing to choose to jump. I am very mad for the lack of honor in the attack—it’s completely wrong to strike out against people in that way. It may be the worst thing you can do. I truly hope that the age of terrorism ends with a new president—I feel that our current President just has this cloud attached to him no mater what. I don’t want history books to say that the information age was followed by the age of terrorism—I don’t want that to be the chapter I lived in.
Honestly, I'm a bad kinda guy. I've tried drugs before, I drink, I don't go to church anymore, I curse far more than is acceptable beyond my own social circles however wide they may be and my closet is full of all kinds of skeletons. For some of the stupid things that I've done, I should be in jail. I'm what many would look right past or even baulk in disgust if my charisma never got a shot at them. Even I was affected by this, it was a punch in the stomach to me.
September the eleventh of the year of our Lord two thousand and one, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing at the most important moment of that date. I was a freshman in highschool but I was not in school. I was playing hooky and faking sick at home. I had woken up when I felt like it to go into the living room and play some nameless shooter in my PC and waste electricity with the TV running. There was a bowl of soggy cereal before me that had failed to arrest my interest before I had finished it all on the desk in front of me. My fingers danced across the keyboard with alarming speed though in truth I was bored and my eyes weren't even half open. My Dad stayed home that day to "take care of me," he was playing hooky too. It wasn't until later than half past nine when I heard a rumbling that rattled the boards in my two story Texan home. My Dad was racing down the stairs as fast as his legs could carry them, bounding out of the staircase and blazing towards the remote on the coffee table. As he fumbled with the remote, my eyes were quite open now. My focus went to the large early ninties Mitsubishi projection screen TV that failed to match every peice of furnature that it had ever shared a room with. The last glimpses of the charming cartoon Courage the Cowardly Dog were replaced by the live CNN feed of the second plane smashing into the second tower of the world trade center.
I was horrified. My game palyed on with out me but I was stunned, my Dad was in a similar statuesque state, the remote still pointed towards the large wooden behemoth that had delivered these scenes of evil into my very home. Interveiws with people on the street and footage of the impact from every conceivable angle save the cockpits were played until America as a whole fell silent and gaped in fear as one of the most powerful economic moments plummeted to the earth dragging every soul nearby with it. Was this a sick joke? It had to be! The War of the Worlds thing on the radio was fake and perhaps as terrifiing when it had happened decades ago, was this like it? My Dad took a seat on the edge of the couch muttering the two words that every soul witnessing this atrocity had, "Oh, God..." America was silent for the approximately 18 minutes before the second tower collapsed. Afterwards, we all cried in unison.
I've never known my father to be a man of much emotion and when he did some any, it was usually anger but he was stunned on the couch wondering what was happening to the nation. As his son, I looked to him for guidance in most matters but I knew that it was futile to ask anything right now, no one knew anything just yet. The effects of the initial suprise at the first images of terror preoccupied me for the rest of the day, there wasn't much more that could've hurt me or anyone else in America for that matter. The Federal Aviation Administration grounded all planes with exception only to Airforce One and Military planes. The emerging aftermath of conspiracy at the Pentagon and that feild in Pennsylvania were discovered to have been related to the earlier attack. CNN footage of people in the Middle East dancing in the streets and throwing candy chanting "God is dead! Praise Allah!" turned my stomach. The President's speech regaurding the day's events and interveiws from people running madly from the surging wall of dust left me dumbstruck.
How do you react to that? These people who did this succeeded in making every person in America feel vulnerable, even if they were no one of consequence or had nothing of value. The very security that I had in my own home was shattered by scenes from waking nightmares that were yet hundreds and hundreds of miles away. I feel that every American who witnessed these actions in their home of all places feel as if these evil men might as well have entered their own livingrooms with as much of a disruption that they've caused.
Five years later where are we? We argure over the best memorial to built while destitute citezens of the same nation remain hungry and homeless from a more recent and natural disaster. We form a callous to the difficulties in the two countries we've invaded, ignoring their problems and yet we fume at every fallen soldier's death. We complain about the price of fuel cutting into our spending money when all over the world people have money for neither. We claim to be a united people when our own President has favor with a steadily shrinking minority. Day and night we say "Some one ought to..." or "This problem needs to be dealt with!" but I see a people too lazy to even vote!
My life changed that day five years ago when America was divided and hasn't quite yet come back together, but just because it hasn't happened yet, does not mean that I believe that it will never happen at all. This nation was founded on what people felt was right and just and from that time came some of the strongest and most iconic individuals that the world has seen. I pray that in the world's time of need that others will emerge again like that but it wasn't until a few days ago I realized that there is nothing stopping those people from being you and I. In many ways the shameful and cowardly acts of terror divided a great many people but this is the best oppurtunity for every human being on this planet to unite.
September the eleventh of the year of our Lord two thousand and one, I remember exactly where I was and what I was doing at the most important moment of that date. I was a freshman in highschool but I was not in school. I was playing hooky and faking sick at home. I had woken up when I felt like it to go into the living room and play some nameless shooter in my PC and waste electricity with the TV running. There was a bowl of soggy cereal before me that had failed to arrest my interest before I had finished it all on the desk in front of me. My fingers danced across the keyboard with alarming speed though in truth I was bored and my eyes weren't even half open. My Dad stayed home that day to "take care of me," he was playing hooky too. It wasn't until later than half past nine when I heard a rumbling that rattled the boards in my two story Texan home. My Dad was racing down the stairs as fast as his legs could carry them, bounding out of the staircase and blazing towards the remote on the coffee table. As he fumbled with the remote, my eyes were quite open now. My focus went to the large early ninties Mitsubishi projection screen TV that failed to match every peice of furnature that it had ever shared a room with. The last glimpses of the charming cartoon Courage the Cowardly Dog were replaced by the live CNN feed of the second plane smashing into the second tower of the world trade center.
I was horrified. My game palyed on with out me but I was stunned, my Dad was in a similar statuesque state, the remote still pointed towards the large wooden behemoth that had delivered these scenes of evil into my very home. Interveiws with people on the street and footage of the impact from every conceivable angle save the cockpits were played until America as a whole fell silent and gaped in fear as one of the most powerful economic moments plummeted to the earth dragging every soul nearby with it. Was this a sick joke? It had to be! The War of the Worlds thing on the radio was fake and perhaps as terrifiing when it had happened decades ago, was this like it? My Dad took a seat on the edge of the couch muttering the two words that every soul witnessing this atrocity had, "Oh, God..." America was silent for the approximately 18 minutes before the second tower collapsed. Afterwards, we all cried in unison.
I've never known my father to be a man of much emotion and when he did some any, it was usually anger but he was stunned on the couch wondering what was happening to the nation. As his son, I looked to him for guidance in most matters but I knew that it was futile to ask anything right now, no one knew anything just yet. The effects of the initial suprise at the first images of terror preoccupied me for the rest of the day, there wasn't much more that could've hurt me or anyone else in America for that matter. The Federal Aviation Administration grounded all planes with exception only to Airforce One and Military planes. The emerging aftermath of conspiracy at the Pentagon and that feild in Pennsylvania were discovered to have been related to the earlier attack. CNN footage of people in the Middle East dancing in the streets and throwing candy chanting "God is dead! Praise Allah!" turned my stomach. The President's speech regaurding the day's events and interveiws from people running madly from the surging wall of dust left me dumbstruck.
How do you react to that? These people who did this succeeded in making every person in America feel vulnerable, even if they were no one of consequence or had nothing of value. The very security that I had in my own home was shattered by scenes from waking nightmares that were yet hundreds and hundreds of miles away. I feel that every American who witnessed these actions in their home of all places feel as if these evil men might as well have entered their own livingrooms with as much of a disruption that they've caused.
Five years later where are we? We argure over the best memorial to built while destitute citezens of the same nation remain hungry and homeless from a more recent and natural disaster. We form a callous to the difficulties in the two countries we've invaded, ignoring their problems and yet we fume at every fallen soldier's death. We complain about the price of fuel cutting into our spending money when all over the world people have money for neither. We claim to be a united people when our own President has favor with a steadily shrinking minority. Day and night we say "Some one ought to..." or "This problem needs to be dealt with!" but I see a people too lazy to even vote!
My life changed that day five years ago when America was divided and hasn't quite yet come back together, but just because it hasn't happened yet, does not mean that I believe that it will never happen at all. This nation was founded on what people felt was right and just and from that time came some of the strongest and most iconic individuals that the world has seen. I pray that in the world's time of need that others will emerge again like that but it wasn't until a few days ago I realized that there is nothing stopping those people from being you and I. In many ways the shameful and cowardly acts of terror divided a great many people but this is the best oppurtunity for every human being on this planet to unite.