September 11th. Amazing how just two words, “September eleventh” makes my stomach churn. The words themselves mean nothing special. Apart, I quite like them. September is my birthday month and eleventh has quite a nice ring to it. The combination however, causes a physical reaction: My head feels a little lighter, my stomach a little heavier. That day is marked on me like the scar I got when I was seven and fell off my bike.

I remember that morning in various degrees of clarity. Everything before I turned on the TV is a blur of habitual morning rituals. Everything after is a surreal vivid clarity that reminds me of a Dali painting. Vivid and bold, but a confusing mass of images. I woke up at about 7:30am as Gordon was getting out of the shower. He dressed, got his stuff and headed out. I kissed him and said goodbye for the day at the door. He blew me a kiss as he does each morning. I yelled, “have a good day babes!” as I usually did. A normal morning. I was feeling good. I went back to the bedroom, got changed and hopped on the stationary bike for a bit of a workout followed by a refreshing shower and all was normal. And that was the end of that. Coming out of the shower, towel wrapped around me, I decided to turn on the TV. I remember thinking; “I really should watch the news more often to keep up-to-date with what’s going on in the world”. I was greeted by an image of the twin towers and voices – a news reporter and an eye-witness. I saw smoke billowing out of one of the towers and wondered what in the world was going on. A news reporter was questioning a woman as this image remained on the screen.

“It was a plane” I heard her say

“Do you know if it was a commercial plane?” the reporter asked

“I think so. Yes. (some mumbling to someone with her). Yes, yes, it was a commercial plane” she replied

“Did you see what…” the reporter began to ask, but was interrupted by the woman’s screams. Screams that play in my head every time I recollect that day. Her voice. I have no words to describe her voice at that moment.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God! There’s another plane! There’s another plane! Oh my God! Oh no! Oh no no no! Oh God!”

And as she screamed and pleaded to her God I watched a plane dive in out of the right corner of the screen. It disappeared for a moment and then there was an enormous explosion in the second tower and smoke enveloped it. It took me a moment to register within myself what just happened. I just stared. I stared at this horrific image and thought, “It looks just like a movie, but it’s not. This is real. It can’t be. It is. Oh my god.” Through my clouded mind I heard the woman crying and wailing. I heard the reporter after a moment of shock say, “Another plane has just crashed into the Towers. Yes, another plane has just crashed into the Twin Towers”. I wondered if he repeated that for us or for him. Either way it brought the reality to me. Another plane. Crashed. The Towers.

I immediately rushed into the living room to turn on the big TV and see what I could find on CNN or BBC. I didn’t know what station either of them was on so I had to flip through various channels. I remember seeing movies fly by, cartoons, game shows, talk shows and so forth. The images blurred and all I could think of was the Towers, burning. While doing this I picked up the phone and hurriedly dialed Gordon at work. I remember him answering “hey babes, what’s up”? (caller id always helped), and me stumbling through my words, “go and turn on the TV. Two planes just crashed into the twin towers. They’re burning. They’re smoking. Two planes. Crashed. Go turn on the TV.”

I hung up and turned my attention back to the screen. I watched as they replayed the image. And replayed it. And replayed it. And replayed it. I sat in my towel for the rest of the morning and watched the news. I heard as the pentagon was attacked. I cried. I swore. I was glued. I called Gordon throughout the day just to make sure he was ok. We even discussed a plan of what to do if something happened here in Boston. I finally got dressed, got my cat and forced her to sit with me as I continued to watch. I didn’t eat a thing. I couldn’t. I constantly had to remind myself, “This is real. This is real”. I remember at one point hearing planes flying overhead and I froze. I held my breath. My mind started racing. It was at that moment that I realized how much of an impact this day would have on every individual. I was now afraid of the sound of an airplane. Before an airplane had meant travel and adventure – flying home, seeing new places, exploring. Now it meant fear.

When Gordon came home that evening – a little earlier than usual, we held each other really close as we sat and watched the news. I started listing off names of my friends I knew were in New York but couldn’t call since I had no numbers. Helpless. That feeling of being utterly helpless was even worse than the fear.