I remember...

Ten years ago I was 31 years old, working as an insurance agent for AAA.  I was sitting in my office early the morning of September 11th, trying to talk myself into making it through another day at a job that I hated.  I was in a shitty mood and didn't feel like talking to anyone.  

Someone walked by my office and told me to come into the kitchen to watch what was happening on TV, and that's about all that I remember.  Except that we all got to go home early (yippee).

Back in those days, I was often hoggishly detached from anything that didn't affect me directly.  If it didn't happen to "me," then I chose not to "feel" it.  Newsflash: Spiffy was selfish.

I remember watching the plane hit the tower and eventually the towers fall.  It all seemed so surreal to me; like it wasn't really happening.  I mean, how could something that looked like a blockbuster hit starring Bruce Willis and Nicholas Cage really be happening, for REAL??

A couple of weeks after 9/11, I was listening to the morning show of my then favorite radio station, e105.  Joe from "The Joe Show" was talking about how he was a big hair-band freak back in the 80's which immediately connected with me.  I, too, was an 80's hair-band fanatic who sported a killer red coif that I kept in prime shape with a hair dryer and Aqua Net.

He mentioned they were holding a radio contest and winners would get a round-trip, all expenses paid trip to New York City.  All I had to do was tell him why I was the biggest 80's hair-band fanatic and I'd win ... so I did ... and I WON!

I took my friend Kristen with me on a trip that forever changed my life.  Not only because of the experience of seeing Ground Zero only a month after the attack, but because of the people that I met on that trip who I still hold dear to my heart. There are so many great people who are now in my life who wouldn't have been in my life had the 9-11 attacks not happened.  I guess that's my silver lining in the dark cloud.

Tragic events affect everyone, whether or not they are in touch enough with their emotions to admit it.  I tried not to "feel" much back then, so it took a radio station trip to New York City for the reality to really sink in. 

Standing in front of Saint Patrick's Cathedral in Manhattan, watching the funeral procession for one of the fallen firefighters, Patty Brown, was a moment I will never forget.  You could hear a pin drop as the firefighters marched down the road, led by bag pipes.  The entire city was silent in tribute.  It was awesome and sad and beautiful all at the same time.

Ten years later, I sat and cried this morning as I listened to Paul Simon sing Sounds of Silence.  I relived the morning of 9-11-01 while watching a feature on NatGeo this evening.  I chose to feel the pain of others while I watched. 

I really tried to imagine the pain of talking to a loved one on the phone and knowing that it was likely the last time you'd ever hear their voice.  I imagined the terror those poor people felt as they ran through the streets of Manhattan in a futile attempt to avoid the rolling cloud of debris.   I imagined the despair someone must have felt to have to choose between burning to death or jumping out of a building. 

Needless to say, my heart aches tonight.