It is the iconic moment in the lifetime of my generation, the "Where were you" moment. Like the assassinations of Kennedy and Martin Luther King, Jr., it has become indelibly etched into the fabric of our nation's memory. On the ten year anniversary of the event, I find myself in the same city, traveling to the same place I was when I first heard about the tragedy. I can't help but think there is poignancy in that circuity.
It was my second year of undergrad and I was on campus early that year as an orientation aide for new students. I had gone through a full day of orientation training and preparation the previous day and was psyching myself up for another six to eight hours of sitting in a room with others talking about using some metaphorical leadership tool kit to bring out the best in those around me.
That morning as I walked across campus, I met up with some fellow orientation aides and we joked about how boring the previous training session had been. As we entered Swift Hall, the theology building, another orientation aide met us at the door. "The World Trade Center Tower has been hit by a plane!" She exclaimed. "They canceled training today."
The rest of the day is a blur of random memories. I recall watching the second tower getting hit and thinking it was unreal, people crying and making phone calls, and dinner with my best friend at a local pasta restaurant.
What do you remember of that day? Where were you?
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