I don't think any of us will forget the day. We won't forget where we were when we heard the news, we won't forget what we were doing, or how we felt. We had recently moved into a new house. DH and I had decided to wait until the cold weather hit before having the dish hooked up. No television is a good idea, right? Well, I was standing in front of the mirror, applying my makeup. The clock radio said 8:11 MT. I walked over, flipped on the radio and walked back to the mirror. The DJ was frantic. I remember hearing... a plane.... the towers.... a crash... I didn't get it. I didn't know what they were talking about but I knew, just by listening to his voice that it was BIG. I remember staring at the clock radio. What is this program anyway, I thought? I walked over and sat down on the bed. I listened. I felt sick. I sat there trying to piece it all together. I thought some pilot had made some horrible error.
Then... the second plane hit.
And the towers fell. And fell. And fell.
I remember thinking... Who did this? Why? How could this happen?
Sometime over the next hour my neighbor called. Mel, I know you don't have TV. Have you heard? Yes, yes I heard. She invited me over. I sat in her front room and we watched. We watched the planes hit the tower. We watched it over and over and over and it was horrible.
Later that evening as I was delivering the evening paper, it really hit me. As I drove up one street and down the next I noticed the flags. Flags in every yard. A symbol of our unity, love of our country, support. It hit me hard and a wave of emotion enveloped me. I turned on the radio... "I'm Proud to Be An American".... blared through speakers. Thanks Lee Greenwood and Ditto.