Where were you?

[He is Risen!]

I was just returning to the dorm after class at WSU, people on my floor tended to hang out with their doors to their rooms open and everyone had their tvs on watching the news.  A big topic of discussion especially with the young men was the possibility of being drafted, they were all about the right age for that.

[Seven77]

 Just came home from morning Mass with mom… somebody called to say that we should turn on the TV because a plane hit one of the twin towers in NYC… I saw replays of it and thought, “what a freak accident." And then we saw the 2nd plane hit and I realized that this was no accident. We watched TV all day. That was my sister's 1st day working at the paper for the Archdiocese of Washington…

[WhiteLily]

I was sitting in home room, hitting my classmate next to me for saying planes crashing in a tower was "cool". I think he was on the spectrum, but I can remember my body shaking. I wanted to throw up.

[Selah]

I was in 6th grade and in school at the time.

[Gabriela]

I was 21 and on a study abroad in Europe. On that day, I was in Cordoba, Spain, walking around the city. My ex called from Texas just to catch up and we talked for about 30 minutes maybe. Then 2 minutes after we hung up, he called right back and told me something's wrong and I should get to a tv. I called my mom immediately because back then she worked for the government and she said she'd just gotten the phone call and was rushing into work. I asked what had happened and she said they think it's a terrorist attack. I made haste to an Irish pub where they had all the tvs tuned to CNN International and saw the planes hitting the towers for the first time. And then again. And again. And AGAIN... I sat down in horror and immediately tried to call my father because he worked very near the Pentagon, but I couldn't reach him. I ordered a large rum and coke and sat there bawling in front of CNN. Some Spanish women at the table next to me pulled my chair over to them and started consoling me. I heard some other Spaniards at another table laugh and say, "It's about time!" I glared at them and sobbed more. (I'm sure they regretted that vindictiveness the first time Spain got hit.) A Spanish friend called and asked if everyone I knew was okay. I said I couldn't reach my father. In fact, I didn't reach my father until the next morning, because Route 7 through Northern Virginia was so packed it took him some 8 or 10 hours to make what's usually a 90-minute commute.

From Cordoba I went to Granada, which is full of Muslims. I carried a Frankfurter Zeitung under my arm the whole time I was there.