9/11

Everyone has a story to tell from that day. Everyone remembers where they were when they first heard the news. Some stories are much more harrowing than others.

I was in a Metro Access vehicle, on the way to work. This was back when the vehicles had radios in them, and the drivers could decide to listen to music, news, or sports. I remember the announcer saying a plane had crashed into one of the towers. For some reason I remember them already speculating that it was terrorism, but I don't know if that was my anxious mind jumping to that conclusion.

I hurried upstairs when I arrived at work, and told the first person I encountered what I had heard. She smiled and spoke to me gently. She obviously thought I was exaggerating or had heard wrong. I must be mistaken.

Within a short time, however, word spread throughout the agency. There was talk of evacuating the building since we are next door to the state capitol. There were so many unknowns and so much speculation. There was concern that state buildings might be attacked.

But we were not evacuated. We tried to concentrate on our work. When I left for the day, I remember standing on the steps, waiting for my ride. It was beautiful, clear September day. Calm. Normal. But it all felt so surreal.

I am a news whore. When there's breaking information, I want to know about it, watch it, be able to inform others about what's happening. But not on 9/11. I had no desire to rush home and hear the latest. I wanted it to go away. And I didn't want to be home alone.

My story is not much of a tale. I wasn't running for my life in New York City. I am fortunate that I do not know anyone who was in the area that day. My family, especially my brother-in-law, travels internationally frequently, but so far we have been untouched by terrorism. Blessed we are indeed.

Still, everyone has a story to tell.

librarianintx