A Mommy Story

Just as the generation before us all had a story of where they were when President John F. Kennedy was killed, our generation will all be able to tell where they were and what they were doing when the attacks of September 11, 2001 happened.

I still remember it fairly well, although Aaron disagrees on the details. When the first plane hit, I was blissfully unaware. I was a graduate student at Miami University at the time, in my 8am Costume Design class. The class let out early (around 8:45am), so I decided to walk across the street to the dining hall for a snack while waiting for Aaron to meet up with me.

The dining hall had a big screen TV, and it was probably showing the usual talk shows or other brainless TV. I usually never paid attention. The radio was also on, and the volume had been turned up, while the TV had closed captioning on. There was some talk on the radio about a plane hitting one of the World Trade Center towers. They thought it was a small, two-seater plane, possibly pilot error – details were still just coming in. I was only half-paying attention, because it didn’t seem like that big of a deal.

Then the reports came in about the second, large plane hitting the other tower, and the full weight of the situation started to dawn on everyone. Someone switched the TV over to CNN. The news was now reporting it as a terrorist attack, and they didn’t know if more were coming. Students were now beginning to gather around the TV, and I was now watching it myself. Then the radio news reported that there was an explosion at the Pentagon, and the mood of the students only darkened deeper. While I could hear some students chatting with their friends or making jokes at first, now the room had grown quiet.

Aaron and I walked home after that news, and the scene while walking home was something I will never forget. Miami is a campus that restricts cars, so students are generally walking everywhere. Now, generally you’ll see that nearly every student is happily gabbing away on a cell phone, because no one can take the time to actually say hi to anyone. This day, however, those we passed who were talking on cell phones were crying and trying to find out if their families and friends were OK. (Note: Miami has, for some reason, a high number of students from NY.) Those who weren’t on cell phones were walking with their heads down, some wiping tears from their faces.

The rest of the day, I was parked in front of the TV. I was in shock about what was happening. I watched the towers fall on live TV, and watched people diving out the windows to their deaths, but it just didn’t seem real to me. I didn’t know anyone who worked or lived anywhere near the WTC or the Pentagon, so there was no personal element to the tragedy. My general concern for life kept me watching and hoping that as many survivors could be found as possible.

I also remember feeling so glad that I lived in middle-of-nowhere, OH. Because even if more attacks were coming, I could be fairly certain that the small town of Oxford was safe. I figured a terrorist probably couldn’t even find Ohio on a map. I feel a little guilty for such a selfish thought, but in moments like these, you think of protecting your family and friends and yourself.

That is my memory of the day. Anyone else care to share theirs?