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I remember that Tuesday morning was absolutely gorgeous, a perfect fall day. My boyfriend had just dropped me off at my house. I walked through the chapter room at my house and one of my sisters was watching the news. They had the cameras on the Towers, but the first plane had just hit and no one really knew what happened (I think some people even thought it was a little pasenger plane at that point). I went upstairs and turned on my television, and called my mom. She already knew what was really going on and told me to go back and watch the news. I turned just in time to see the second plane hit. The rest of the day as a blur--my sisters were piled in my room watching the news, and many were trying to find their family members (my school has a huge student population from NY and NJ, and one of my sisters had several family members working at the Pentagon and in the DC area). Miraculously (for us), none of my sisters lost any family members that day.
I think about that now--as each site was hit, and each building fell. We had no idea how many planes were in the air, who was doing this, or what was next. It was a horrible, helpless feeling. An alum told me later about being stuck in Boston that day. I can't even begin to imagine how scary it must have been to be stuck in those large cities.
I had to go to my clinical at a midwife's office that night. The highways were pretty empty for a weeknight, and most people didn't show for their appontments. We mostly sat in the office in shock, listening to NPR.
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