Tuesday, September 11, 2012
I had spent the morning getting supplies together for a sewing class that started at ten. There had been no time for watching television. It was only when I was in my car on the way to the class that I heard about the first plane going into the tower.
There was no answers then; just speculation on what had happened. Saddam Hussian's name was tossed around by the frightened people working the morning shift. I had reached the store where the class was taking place when we learned about the second plane crashing into the second tower.
Immediately, I thought about where each member of my family was. My oldest son was traveling, and I walked the floor of the classroom until his wife called and let me know that he was safe and no where near New York or Washington, D.C. Then I went home, because home is where I always go when I'm hurting.
That day, we learned new lessons about hate and evil. We lost our innocence. We are a changed people.