Thursday, September 11, 2008

Where were you?

I'm sitting in my livingroom watching memorials for the 7th anniversary of 9/11. The one question the reporters keep asking is "do you remember where you were?"

It was a little before 6AM and I was sitting on the floor of my new apartment watching the morning news and eating a bowl of cereal (I had just moved to San Diego from Atlanta 3 weeks earlier). Matt Lauer comes on with the breaking news of a Cessnia (sp?) hitting one of the towers and live video of the smoke. All of a sudden the 2nd plane hits on live TV. My jaw drops. I say "Oh shit!" I stare at the television in disbelief.
I want to stay and watch, but I have to get to work and try to teach. On the drive I try to call my mom to see if we know anyone who works in the area...no phone calls going through.
I get to work and I turn on the TV in my classroom to get the updates. School starts. I turn the TV off. We don't do math. It's hard for everyone to concentrate (teacher included), so we debrief instead. My kids are concerned about me and my family - they know I'm from New York. The faculty and administration are concerned too. I'm touched by the support. I turn on the TV between classes to get updates. The rest of the day is a blur of shock and disbelief.

What I do remember is a complete sense of uselessness. There was nothing I could do to help from the other side of the country.

As I sit here watching 2 young ladies read the names of those who died, I'm thinking of how I can best serve my city. Several ideas are running through my head. There are so many people in need and I have the time and talent to help. I love my city. Watching so many New Yorkers hurting hurts me. It motivates me. I've been too blessed to not pay it forward.

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