My heart goes out to those who lost someone that fateful 9/11, and to the first responders who have suffered as a consequence and still are today. Someone asked where you were that day. I was glued to my TV set in the conference room at work crying with co-workers and trying to comfort my daughter who was away at college, because she was terrified I was in danger in the city. We were afraid, angry and wanted revenge.
I was very afraid–terrified for friends and co-workers whose offices were in the towers and nearby–for my son who was the perfect age to be drafted should we go into an all-out war and drafting returned, and afraid for every person who must force themselves to get on an airplane thereafter knowing life must go on. I was fortunate my company put a hold on air travel for almost a year. We held many more visual conferences, vs. in person. At a point I needed to board a plane and travel, of all place, to New York City. My mother cried that day. She never cried for me before. I understood her fear.
The thing that is so terrifying was the executioners lived freely among us, learning skills they needed in order to execute such a disaster. We being the generous country we are, welcomed them and taught them how to destroy us. They lived among us for years with hatred in their hearts and their only goal to end our way of life. We were oblivious to it. That is the most terrifying thing to me.
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