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I was in bed when my sister's friend called. She blurts out that a plane crashed into the WTC. I said, "Oh my God!" and ran to the tv, kneeling in front of it, for I don't know how long. I was in a state of shock. From the moment she told me what happened I just knew it wasn't an accident. It was like "a plane crashed into the WTC" equaled "someone intentionally flew into the WTC".
I tried all day long to call my family, anyone in my family. They all live in New York. Luckily I didn't lose anyone. However, one of my uncles lives in Far Rockaway, and his neighborhood was affected the most by this tragedy. They lost somewhere in the neighborhood of 75 people. I have yet to know the extent to which my family was affected. I have not been back to visit since 9/11.
The two months that followed 9/11 were horrible for me. It was as though I was living in a daze. I cried so much. I was so afraid for the world, our country, our citizens, our future, our military, etc. I was worried that my father would be sent to the Middle East (he's a Marine). It was just awful.
Interestingly enough, I was knocked out of my dazed state, or perhaps fear, when we took over Kabul. When I heard that on the news I just felt as though things were going to be o.k.
I'm still touched by this event. I can't watch anything about 9/11 without breaking out into tears. Even reading your stories makes me cry. Reading your stories is an extension of the events that happened that day, and it just reminds me how everyone was so effected by it.
With Love,
Shopgirl
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