Sometimes it feels like it happened during another time period. Twelve years ago I was sitting at work not unlike any other typical September day when a co-worker John that sat diagonally across from me said a plane just hit one of the World Trade Centers.
Vocies in the office whispered another plane hit the other tower, a plane went down in Pennsylvania, and a plane intended for the White house has hit the Pentagon. It did not take long before these acts would be dubbed as acts of terrorism. But we were on American soil how could this be? It was the furthest from my mind but quickly became reality. We all tuned into CNN on our internet access at work to find out the latest as we were under attack. We were all sent home early that day to go and hug our loved ones and allow others to locate friends and family members that may be directly impacted.
I was about seven weeks pregnant with Walker at the time. Our lives as a family were just beginning and what kind of world was I bringing a child into? Sadly I was so sure anymore. In the office we were all stunned and speechless. We were a generation that had not endured an attack on American soil to this magnitude. My supervisor at the time was in the Army Reserves and quickly exited the building to report for duty. It wasn’t until months after he would be deployed.
The next few hours passed slowly while everyday people were being named heroes for helping many escape the horrors of the day. Firefighters, police and civilians came together for one cause. There were calls made to loved ones saying they would be home as soon as they could and they would never arrive. There were also stories of people that were running late to work that day and managed to avoid the tragic events.