Today is September 11th and it marks the 11th anniversary. I was in the newsroom that day. I was working at the newspaper, putting together the final touches on issue, when reports started coming in. No one knew what was going on, least of all us. So many false reports were coming in, that the news of the Trade Towers being struck (and eventually falling) seemed just as impossible. Everyone around me sort of collectively inhaled and held their breath. A few ran from the room, pulling out their phones and dialing frantically. But most of us were glued to the spot, staring at the TV. We watched. We couldn't do anything, but watch.
Personally, something happened. It was like there was this massive mental shift. Suddenly everything around me seemed so pointless. Frustrations with my prospects as a reporter came to a head and I made myself a promise. Go to New York. Help heal. Follow my passion. Don't waste a minute.
And that's what I did. As soon as I could, I went to live in New York. I went to the epicenter to do what I had promised myself.
It's odd how even though I'm miles and miles away from the life I used to have in the City, the events of that day are not far. In my memory, they are still vivid and close. But they are also not far in that Shanksville, the site of crash 93 in just down the road. From the biggest city, to the smallest town... this tragedy has touched us all.
My heart goes out to all those who lost their lives and to the families and friends who lost their loved ones.
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