September 11, 2001

We had loo­ked for­ward to the vaca­ti­on. I had some­thing important and big to do: tel­ling my fami­ly that we were going to get married. 

And then, out of the blue, my wife’s brot­her cal­led us. We were on the beach, enjoy­ing our­sel­ves. It was a fine day, too. And he said it: Pla­nes flew into the World Trade Center. 

We had no fur­ther infor­ma­ti­on. All we could come up with whe­re small pla­nes, Ces­na or some­thing. And we did­n’t real­ly under­stand why he would call us with that. 

And then, we came home to our apart­ment and saw the news. 

I will always remem­ber that room. That apart­ment. That acu­te sen­se of dis­be­lief. Not at all gras­ping what happened–what lead to that event, or what it would mean to the world. 

This must be what histo­ry feels like. 

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