On the morning of September 11, 2001, I got up and went to work as usual. I got caught up on some things that needed done and so I thought that I would go into Yahoo! Games and join my buddies in Saigon for a game of Mah Jong Solitare. I wasn’t in there long when a couple of the players began talking about “a missle or a bomb”. I asked them where and they told me that it was the World Trade Center.
I ran to the back room at work and turned on the TV to see the plumes of smoke coming out the tower. I sat there in disbelief and simply shook my head. I called my husband and told him about the horrible “accident” at the World Trade Center. Just at that moment, the second plane plowed into the other tower and I told my husband “Oh my God, the other tower just got hit.” It was in that moment that I knew that it was no “accident”. My husband told me he’d call me back and I hung up. Tears streamed down my face as I sat there and watched my beloved country under attack.
For the next week or so I was glued to the TV praying for my country and for all the families of those who had died on that horrible day. We prayed that survivors would be found….and we celebrated when we heard that someone had been pulled from the rubble alive. For weeks I fought depression and disbelief and I would cry at the drop of a hat.
My mom used to say that you never forget where you were when something tramatic happens in your country. She remembers where she was when she heard that JFK had been assassinated. I guess this is my memory. I’ll never forget where I was when the towers came down and I’ll never forget the pain and horror of that day and the days that ensued.