It was an absolutely gorgeous day. I was at work, the television was always on in the breakroom. After the first plane hit, the buzz started, then the second plane hit. As supervisor, I was trying to control the panic, keep everyone calm; there was certainly very little work being done. The phone calls started; I called my son who lived far away, made sure my daughter, not quite so far away, was okay, got a call from my mom, checking on me. I guess parenting never stops.
And then the towers fell. The pentagon was hit. Flight 93 crashed in Pennsylvania. And the world I'd always known ended.