Like most everyone I know, I remember exactly what I was doing five years ago today. I was up early, making breakfast and watching the news. The World Trade Center building was on fire, and no one really knew what had happened. I stood in my kitchen, watching the smoke pour out of the building. I wondered about the people inside, if they were trapped or were they all being evacuated.
Then the second plane flew into the other tower, and my heart stopped. I watched as CNN replayed the clip, horrified at what I was seeing. I ran into the bedroom, turned on the TV, and woke Ric up. The look on my face was enough for him to know something was terribly wrong.
"What happened," he asked? "They're crashing planes into the World Trade Center," I said.
By then, his attention was on the news. He was seeing the same images - smoke pouring out of the buildings and that fireball roaring into the sky.
We moved into the living room, and I turned on the TV. We sat there, dumbfounded, watching as the towers crumbled. We finally headed to work, only to be told to go home. All day and night we watched the news, until I couldn't cry anymore.
On this 5th anniversary of the attacks, I will pause and remember my fellow Americans lost on 9/11.