September 11, 2001
Morning
On Tuesday, September 11th, I woke up early. I rolled over and looked at the clock. It was 6:10 AM PST, three hours before my alarm was set to go off and wake me up for work. As I stared blearily at the red LED display, my fuzzy brain wondered, "Why the hell am I awake this early??"
Truth was, I hadn't slept well for most of that night. Being something on an insomniac, I just figured I was having a bad night, and rolled dutifully over to catch a few more hours of fitful, dreamless sleep.
It wasn't until I woke up for good several hours later that I found out what was happening on the East Coast, and realized I'd awakened prematurely just as a fuel-laden Boeing 767 had slammed into the South Tower of the World Trade Center in New York City.
I have my clock radio tuned to the local classical station. That morning, enchanted by the particular music they were playing, I decided to leave it on. As I puttered around my room, getting ready for work, the music ended and the radio announcer switched to a station break. And that's when I first heard the news.
"We're receiving reports that the World Trade Center towers in New York have collapsed, that the upper floors have collapsed... more details as they become available," reported the announcer.
The first thing I felt was confusion. The true magnitude of what had happened didn't really sink in right then, probably because the news was incomplete. I was listening to a classical music station, after all, not a news station. I made a mental note to listen to the radio on the way in to work so I could get more details; but otherwise I went about my business. I finished getting ready for work, fed my dog, secured my house, and headed out the door.
On the way to work, I turned on NPR. And then I began to hear what was really happening.
All the way to work, I listened to reports of disaster in New York. First came reports of the Trade Towers being hit by airplanes. Then came reports of the towers collapsing, killing hundreds, possibly thousands of people. Then came a report that the Pentagon had also been hit by a plane. And then another report of a plane crashing outside of Pittsburgh. As time passed, the details became ever clearer, and ever more horrifying. But it still hadn't sunk in. I was listening to my radio in stunned silence, completely unable to comprehend the reality of what was happening 3000 miles away.
At last came the announcment that the FAA had ordered all commercial flights grounded. They were landing all planes, diverting some of them to Canada. Every single airport across the nation was closed down. The only plane in the sky was Air Force One and its escort of fighter jets. Instinctively, I looked out my car window up into the sky.
There were no airplanes anywhere.
That's when it started to sink in.