9-11-01

It's been a horrible, long, surreal day. It started out so nice and normal. I got up, sang in the shower, and was checking my e-mail and preparing to eat breakfast when the phone rang. It was my mother, she was hyperventailing so much that at first I thought she was laughing. I didn't understand what she was saying at first, and then phrases started to sink in,
"New York and D.C. under attack by terrorist planes...", "There's been a bomb at the White House."
My worst nightmere and the enduring nightmere of every government worker and their familes since Oklahoma City seemed to be happening. I started talking very fast and loud,
"It's happening. Oh my God, it's happening.'
I turned on the radio and tryed to pick up information though the static. At first my roomate thought that I was joking, terrorist attacks just don't happen. I started yelling when the radio talked about Bush flying out of Florida and repeating "horrible tragedy". This is not the way that hings were supposed to happen. Maybe one lone act of voilence, another Oklahoma City, not what seemed to unfolding. I didn't know if my father was safe since there were people saying that a bomb or a plane, something had happened at the White House right across from his office. For all I knew my mother could have been hurt or killed within minutes of talking to me.

For some reason I dressed nicely. Partly that my good clothing was the first thing I could reach, and also if the world was ending might as well look good. I rushed to my English professers office. I'm not quite sure why I choose to go to her office, maybe I wanted to get out of class and get information. She had better infomation then me. The White House appeared to be okay, and she didn't think that any bulidings besides the Pentagon had been hit. I went to class, I tried to concentrate and participate. After all, hadn't my mother just said to go about my life like normal? And who was I to disobey her at that moment. After class I rushed into the hall, remembering that there were TV screens in one of the lower hallways, and that surely they would have news. As I waited for the elevator I saw a sign that struck my as unbearaly crass, I wanted to cry and tear it down yelling and screaming at the same time.
"While we greive with you, we regret to inform you that classes have not been canceled today."
How dare they, put up something so smug and insulting, like we wished for mass killings just to get out of class! When I found the TV's I sat with the group of people and watched, muttering "Show D.C." over and over again. They weren't showing D.C., just the same pictures of the World Trade Center, and I began to fear. What if this had happened to my family, my friends?

I ran to the room that had been set up as half consoling center, half war room. I asked some random adminstration member, "What about D.C.?" "What's going on in D.C.? My parents are there." Clearly I was the first distressed student of the day. I watched the news again, and didn't get any new information, exceot that the Mall was on fire. The Mall couldn't be on fire, that would mean my mother was trapped in her office. A professer who I had last year, patted my back and said it was nice to see me again. Then the adminstator told me that they had phones set up for long distance, and they had just cancelled classes. I called my mother's office, and got no answer beyond a recording that the DOT was not open. No answer at my father's office, or the home phone. I told myself, and the people around me that they had problay been evacuted and were just stuck in tracfic. I saw my romoate and she said that we could go to her house and watch the TV. I IM'ed a friend, his family was all safe, what about mine.
"Safe, I think, I hope. I can't find them."

I went to my roomates house. I still couldn't reach my parents or my grandmother, AT&T kept disconnecting me. We sat and watched the news for what seems like hours, and I kept trying to call. Then new information stopped coming in, and we came back. No messages. Just as I was about to try calling again, the phone rang. It was my mother, they were okay. They were safe, Dad, Mom, Grandma, and my friends. outside of New York it wasn't as bad as it had first appeared. They were safe, but rattled and taking the next day off of work. So out of the midst of death and tradgedy, I finally managed to start breathing for the first time sine 10 a.m. They were okay, they were alive. I'm still on the verge of tears for the people who were killed, and I doubt I'll ever understand why it happened. But life persists, you just have to take a deep breath, face the next day and at least not let the enemy win your mind.