I had just walked in the double doors at SuperPages that morning and had a list of to-dos for my boss who was on a business trip in Seattle. I hadn't even made it to my desk when someone in passing said, "Did you hear? Two planes crashed into each other over the World Trade Center." I thought they were kidding because how could something so ridiculous happen? What were the odds? Surely it was an accident.
The rest of the day is a blur. I remember finally getting sick of the coverage on television and Chad saying we could turn it off until after Darby went to bed that night. I remember it taking me a few hours to get a line open to my parents. I remember my Daddy saying, "You better be glad you came home from New Jersey last year because I would be on my way to get you right now otherwise." I remember telling my sister and brother that I was scared and them telling me it was okay. We were safely tucked away in Texas. Physically, we were okay, but life would never be the same again.
Ten years seems like a long time to some and a drop in the bucket to others. My heart and prayers go out to those poor souls who were lost, to their families, and to their children. No amount of time can heal a wound so deep and so painful. If only we could make sense of the senseless.