Where Were You ...
I'm sure every American old enough to have been aware of what was going on remembers exactly what they were doing when they found out about the terrorist attacks on September 11, 2001.
Like most people, my day started out as ordinary. My family was at Busch Gardens on September 10th and we had two day passes, so we stayed overnight at a hotel. While making waffles the morning of September 11th I watched the news and saw the second plane hit the tower. And, like most people, I froze.
We went back to our room and I went into the bathroom, away from the older kids, and held my then 4 month old son and cried. I held him and wondered what kind of world I'd brought him into, and it seemed so horrible and selfish of me to have brought my four wonderful innocent children into a world capable of such horror. And then, immediately, I was struck with an understanding of how women in war-torn countries and women whose worlds and lives face horrible uncertainty have children ... it's as easy as hope and love.
So many emotions that day, and the days that followed. So much pain. And so much good in people.
Today we are marching with the Scouts in a heroes parade.
God Bless America.
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My mother called because she knew we rarely had our one TV on. "Turn your TV on now!" and hung up. OK. So I did, just in time to see the first tower crumble. I quickly sent our young girls, 8 and 6, to play outside while I sat balling glued to the television for the next several hours. I couldn't believe that so "few" people lost their lives. Each one of those towers is a whole city unto itself. Was. We had just been in them two weeks before on a rare trip to NYC from Florida.
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