Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Here's my 9/11 story...

Put the kids outside for the bus. I'd always stand on the porch or in the doorway til they were out of sight, sometimes they'd grace the neighborhood with a song. (around then it was Uncle Kracker, I think. Whatever.)
The bus seemed a bit late & they yelled to me to check the time. I turned on the TV to see what time would pop up & saw the image of a highrise burning with a confused, unsure sounding voiceover basically saying they didn't know yet what had happened. I yelled the time to the kids, the bus came & I stood there in a bathrobe for hours, much of the time with my hand over my mouth. (That's how midwesterners convey surprise, shock, or horror.)
At some point, I started to cry.

Recently, the girls wanted to watch that Disney channel movie about the aircraft carrier with relatives on board during 9/11. When the movie replayed some 9/11 video, I told my girls that I'd come damn close to picking them up from school that day. My youngest, with a detectably snotty tone, asked why. I said that I hadn't known what was happening or how bad it was going to get & that I'd wanted my children close to me under those circumstances. She eye-rolled me, made the " " sign with her fingers & said (totally snotty, dripping with sarcasm) "Mo-om, New York." Emphasis hers.
Honestly, I have no idea where she gets her attitudes from.


Blogger Veruka Salt said...

Me and my husband were just talking about that the other day.

I work about 5 blocks away and when the first plane hit, it startled me cause my back was to the window, 5 seconds later my husband calls, yelling at me to get my ass out of there.

My response, "why, I have alot of work to do - and its not MY building" just then the 2nd plane hit.. I never hauled ass faster out of that building, from that day on I keep a pair of sneakers under my desk, cause walking home in heels is not fun.

9:16 PM  

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