Being a student at the University of Minnesota, I will be the first to admit that I am lazy. It is very unlikely for me to be up any time before 10:00am on school days. But my roommate woke me up at about 9:00, yelling at me to turn on the t.v. I expected to see something funny, someone naked, pretty much anything other than the horrors that I saw. I turned on the t.v. not 5 minutes before the second plane crashed into the second tower, and I remember not just the welling up of tears in my eyes, but the sense of complete helplessness that I felt. The helplessness, along with the pain, the anger, the sorrow and the emptyness. But the helplessness was the hardest to deal with. I felt I should really be trying to help, or something, anything other than just watching. I went to school later that morning in really a daze and I really don’t remember anything other than being told that it had been canceled.