I remember where I was on September 11th, 2001. We’d come back from a wonderful visit with family in California barely a week before. I was still in its afterglow, as I was still in the long afterglow of four months in Budapest.
Fall was approaching, my favorite time of year. It was a beautiful, mild, sunny Midwest morning. I was relaxed. I was happy.
I came downstairs early, made my breakfast, sat on the sofa in the living room, and turned on the news to see smoke billowing out of the first tower and gawked in disbelief. A few minutes later, the phone rang.
Are you watching? Did you see it? Her voice cracked. It always cracked. This time was worse.
Yes. I recognized the same crack in mine.
And we watched together, a thousand miles apart, as the second tower was struck, and gasped…
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