Eighteen Years

On September 11th, it was one week hence of my moving back to the area from Clemson. That morning, I remember I had a dream where I was in the back of an empty tractor trailer, and two of my former Clemson students were in there. We felt something hit the truck, and the student said he thought we had been hit. 

I then woke up around 8:50 and turned on The Today Show, just after the first plane hit the North Tower. Like everyone, I thought it was an accident and wondering why a plane would veer off-course over Manhattan. Then the second plane hit. My first thought was, How are they going to get those planes out of there? And the people? 

I watched, confused like most at that point. Then the plane hit the Pentagon. Every morning I would go down to the bodega at the end of my street for coffee, and went down right after this happened. I knew the manager of the store, and I remember telling her what happened; I felt like I needed to tell someone what happened. I was trying to make sense of the chaos. 

After I got my coffee, then Flight 93 went down. I was baffled; this was a time when terrorism wasn't the immediate first thought. Then a few minutes later the North Tower collaped. I was stunned, unnerved at how fast it and the South Tower came down. 

I distinctly remember on CNN and on other news coverage people being interviewed kept saying, "It's like something out of a movie." Everyone was trying to make sense out of the chaos. I've never shaken that.

The day was surreal overall. Most channels, from the Home Shopping. Network to MTV, went off-air, the sole focus on the networks and the news channels. Imagine this happening with social media now. 

The next day was not much different. But I wanted to see the Jay and Silent Bob movie, so I went to theater. Most of north Johnson City was quieter than normal, the theater empty. The movie was a waste (save for Chris Rock), two hours I wouldn't get back. As I was leaving I looked at the marquee and saw the list of films playing, and at the bottom I saw, "God Bless America." I thought, What movie is that? Then it hit me. Patriotism began blossoming. But when the flags went up after about four days, the politics kicked in. 

Of all the writings and photos around that time, of people jumping and the endless loop of the planes crashing into the Towers, one image got to me. I picked up the book This is New York, a big photography book chronically every aspect of that day, from screen shots of the television networks off-air and photos from newsrooms to police and fire at work. Then I happened across of photo of a woman's severed leg, with painted toenails and a stiletto, presuming she was one of the jumpers. I thought, Did she know getting dressed and going out that...