Lest We Forget
Twenty-two years ago today, terrorists hijacked four airliners and used them as cruise missiles, flying one each into the north and south towers of the World Trade Center and one into the Pentagon. The destination of the fourth is unknown, since a group of brave passengers fought back, albeit at the cost of their lives, taking the plane down in an open field with no survivors. However, its target is generally surmised to have been the US Capitol or the White House.
Here in Indianapolis that morning was a beautiful day. I turned on the Weather Channel and sat down at the computer to check e-mail and browse my favorite websites. I heard something about a plane hitting the WTC, but I was thinking in terms of an accident similar to the bomber that crashed into the Empire State Building during World War II: bad for the people in the plane, but reparable damage.
And then I went on SFF.net and started reading newsgroups -- and one of my friends had made a post that made it clear this was no accident, and it was far worse than the incident from WWII. I immediately went to the TV and started hunting for a news channel.
As soon as I saw the image of the Twin Towers, I could tell they'd be beyond repair -- but I was still thinking in terms of extinguishing the fires and then demolishing the damaged structures in a controlled manner. So I was caught completely by surprise as first one and then the other tower pancake like a horrible parody of the implosion of Market Square Arena in downtown Indianapolis the previous summer.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of horror and sick dread. Rumors abounded -- more hijacked planes still in the air, bombs planted in various places, and things that in retrospect look wildly unlikely, but in that atmosphere of upended certainties seemed plausible. More than a few people of my acquaintance were chattering about the Tribulations (pre-Millenialist apocalyptic theology).
I called my husband at work and suggested he get the van topped off, and I took the car to top it off. Given the uncertainty of the situation, I wanted to make sure that we didn't get caught low if there were gas shortages or outright rationing, especially with an event coming up the next week.
Things did settle down over the next few days, and I was able to get back into a routine, and back into writing, but nothing would ever be truly the same as it had been before that terrible day.
Here in Indianapolis that morning was a beautiful day. I turned on the Weather Channel and sat down at the computer to check e-mail and browse my favorite websites. I heard something about a plane hitting the WTC, but I was thinking in terms of an accident similar to the bomber that crashed into the Empire State Building during World War II: bad for the people in the plane, but reparable damage.
And then I went on SFF.net and started reading newsgroups -- and one of my friends had made a post that made it clear this was no accident, and it was far worse than the incident from WWII. I immediately went to the TV and started hunting for a news channel.
As soon as I saw the image of the Twin Towers, I could tell they'd be beyond repair -- but I was still thinking in terms of extinguishing the fires and then demolishing the damaged structures in a controlled manner. So I was caught completely by surprise as first one and then the other tower pancake like a horrible parody of the implosion of Market Square Arena in downtown Indianapolis the previous summer.
The rest of the day passed in a haze of horror and sick dread. Rumors abounded -- more hijacked planes still in the air, bombs planted in various places, and things that in retrospect look wildly unlikely, but in that atmosphere of upended certainties seemed plausible. More than a few people of my acquaintance were chattering about the Tribulations (pre-Millenialist apocalyptic theology).
I called my husband at work and suggested he get the van topped off, and I took the car to top it off. Given the uncertainty of the situation, I wanted to make sure that we didn't get caught low if there were gas shortages or outright rationing, especially with an event coming up the next week.
Things did settle down over the next few days, and I was able to get back into a routine, and back into writing, but nothing would ever be truly the same as it had been before that terrible day.