I was in 2nd grade, sitting in my teachers classroom and the rest is a blur.
Originally Posted by Orangey
Incidentally, I believe that I am a dominant Ti user, and I often have trouble explaining things that I understand well. It's a matter of organizing the presentation of material. I can have it perfectly organized in my head all at once, but structuring the sequential delivery of material so that others understand is a different matter entirely, and requires a different skill set that I am apparently lacking.
I was in Egypt, finishing up a conference and scornfully considering the Americans present who, though in a foreign and exotic country steeped in ancient culture and history, sat riveted in front of a tv watching some CNN story of smoking skyscrapers.
Couldn't even take a break from their americano-centrism for a week.
I lived on the 11th floor of a high rise about two miles from the Pentagon, and I was taking a shower, getting ready for work, and I heard this massive explosion, and my building shook. I visualized a gas tank exploding -- for some reason, I thought a car had exploded in the parking lot directly below me. I got out of the shower and the phone was ringing, and I pick it up and it's my mom, who lives 500 miles up the coast from me, and she told me I couldn't go to work that day. I was like, of course I'm going to work, don't be silly. She said no, you can't go to work today. I heard her saying to my stepfather, "She doesn't watch tv." She said go turn on the tv. I hate the tv in the morning, so she had to tell me again, so I turned the tv on and it was all about New York, and I all of a sudden felt faint and had to sit down because nothing was computing. I got off the phone and it rang again, and it was one of the attorneys I worked for at the time, telling me not to try to come to work. I said something exploded and the building shook. He said yeah, that was a plane hitting the Pentagon. I said I didn't think it was that, it didn't sound like impact, it sounded like a gas tank exploding. He said that's right, that would have been the fuel tanks on the plane exploding when it hit the Pentagon.
I was in a quantitative analysis class at FSU, my professor heard the news of the first plane hitting tower #1, he turned the projector on and fired up NBC news on the screen in front of the whole class, then only moments after the recap of the first strike, the second plane hit tower #2, we watched it burst into flames. The university dismissed all classes, the State government of Florida dismissed all workers, and as I left my professor (a good friend of mine, Dr. Alex Wagner, PhD.) said to me "Alex, this means we are going to war, you know this don't you?" That day will be frozen into my consciousness forever...
I was listening to the morning news on National Public Radio.
I had had nightmares the previous night, and I woke up feeling these really negative vibes that were coming from... somewhere. I didn't know where. I was still in bed. I shuddered with horror as I felt hit with wave after wave of negativity.
Then I heard that a plane had hit the World Trade Center.
I thought that some idiot with a Cessna had messed up a stunt and broke a window and was probably headed to the hospital to live for a few weeks in a body cast.
Then I found out what really happened...
I was horrified. I saw the images on TV several times, until I grew nauseated and had to turn off the television.
That evening, I went to church for a special ecumenical service. We all sang sad songs and cried.
A few days later, my dad said, "Now the president will have an excuse for attacking Iraq."
I didn't see what this crime had to do with Iraq.
I still don't.
I also don't see the purpose of this Afghanistan war.
I'm a little teapot, short and stout. Here is my handle and here is my spout. Every time I steam up, I give a shout. Just tip me over and pour me out.
A lot of the Americans I talked to around that time seriously thought World War 3 was about to erupt. America vs the Islamic World or something. Apocalypse. Even fairly level-headed ones were freaking out. It was quite an exhilarating time to be in a muslim nation so close to Israel and the middle east, I'm embarrassed to admit.
I was in 9th grade, in art class. I was working on a collage on black paper. A voice came over the PA system requesting all teachers to turn on the TVs to the news channels. A bunch of people were joking around about what was happening, and I remember being glued to what I was working on (because I took art thuper cereal!) and something someone said made me look up.
I remember seeing the buildings spewing massive clouds of smoke and thinking it was a movie or something. After a few minutes, one of the towers collapsed and I realised this was real and it was happening right then somewhere. I wondered if it was in some war-torn country, but then I heard it was in New York. Even though realised it was real, I was in a state of disbelief for a year. When the memorial for that day came around the next year, only then did I feel the gravity of what had happened.
I remember the months that followed the event and being very frightened for innocent Arabs/Arab-looking people in this country because of the wave of panic and paranoia that prevailed.
"I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."