On September 11, 2001, I was skipping class in medical school the day after a test. I had slept in and it was only a phone call from my mother that woke me up. She was watching the news about the first plane slamming into the WTC. She woke me up in time for me to see the second hit happen live. I watched all day. Watched as both towers collapsed, feeling utterly helpless. I think it was the first time I ever realized that I actually had feelings of patriotism. If I had lived in NY, I would have made my way downtown to help, but here I was, stuck thousands of miles away, watching it unfold on TV. It was probably the same way everyone else in the country felt: sickening.
2 comments:
That about sums it up That sick feeling in the pit of your stomach that's still there 11 years later. And that horrible sick fascination that makes me keep reliving it.
I think one of the most awe inspiring things about this day is that for a moment over one million people felt something in unison. It's a rare occurence and each time it has happened, it was catastrophic. But to think, for one moment in time, that many people's hearts sank at the same time. What would it take to make that many people's hearts soar in unison? Impossible.
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