I got my call at 7:00am. It feels like the phone never stopped ringing.

Thanks for being there this year, Stephen. You've been a big help.

Thank you, Stephen. I saw the towers burning as I drove to work. Every morning I notice they aren't there anymore. There's a little part of me that doesn't want to make the drive, every day. I think many of us will have that little pain underneath for a long time.

I had been here at work about two hours. Our investment banking group has TVs. One year and I still sleep on the sofa in front of FOXNews.

I am happy you sleep.

Thanks for sharing that. I haven't read your blog before I found you via A Letter from the Olde Countrie. I wasn't sure if I was going to watch TV today or not. I think not. I'm just going to listen to Requiems and Stabat Maters all day long. I stayed up late to make my Sept. 11 post after midnight and woke up too early this morning. Other than that no blogging today except for reading other people's writings.

The phone call you received that morning was very similar to the one I made to Ed Driscoll and his wife, Nina, at 6:45am Pacific that morning. Not the nicest way to wake friends.

Like the rest of us, Stephen, that day has been burned into my brain. I was at work when it happened (I live on the East Coast), and at first I thought "Okay, some yoyo has slammed a Cessna into the WTC". Then the reports started coming in on the radio and I hauled ass to the kitchen where the firm keeps a TV running all day. What I saw stunned and sickened me. My office closed early that day, and I went home to find my wife crying in front of the TV. I tried to comfort her, but honestly, what could I have done? My wife is from Long Island and used to work in Manhattan, so she knows the area and probably some of the people there. I ended up crying with her that day. That was before the rage struck. I swear to God, if the armed forces would take a 46 year old man with a bad back, I would have joined that day. Still would if I could.

Luckily you and Melissa had each other to see you through this trying time, and you both still had enough hope in the future to get married. God bless you both, and may you both live to see a terrorist-free future. Shalom.

My grief is gone. All that is left is white hot rage. I want them all dead. ALL. Too harsh you say? Fuck you I say. Let's play hypothetical here. Say a group of Fundmentalist Christians flew a plane into the mosque in Saudi and another into the Dome of the Rock. Do you honestly think the Islamic world would be discerning differences between which Christians they would want dead? Dream on moron. Kill them all and let Satan sort them out. God doesn't want anything to do with them.

Perhaps we all will have our own ways to commemorate the day. As far as I'm concerned, my muse has taken the day off. I don't feel much like writing on my own weblog, but perusing other weblogs seems strangely comforting. Go figure....

VodkaMan - thanks for your reflections on The Day...

Steve S. - your initial reaction was the same as mine...my wife Jody had gone off to the gym at about 5.30 am as usual...the phone rang at about 6 and I groggily answered it, wondering "who could be calling at this &%^$#%# hour"...it was Jody, and all she said was that an airplane had crashed into the WTC...she sounded weird, but it was early and all I thought was, "pfff - so a Cessna crashed into the building...can't be THAT bad"...went about my morning routines, and when I came back out into the living room Jody was back and she and friends of ours who were staying with us were in front of the TV, watching the towers burn...that's when I learned how bad it was...or, rather, how bad it seemed it was, for I glanced away from the TV for a moment and then, when I looked back, there was only a column of dust where the south tower was..."The tower collapsed?" I said, unable to believe what I was seeing. Yes, they said. I think it was then that I said, coldly, "They've made the same mistake the Japs made."

When I got to work, they had set up the big TV that we use for videoconferencing in the lunchroom and people were clustered, watching...the north tower had fallen just before I got to work, and that was hard for me to believe, too, though it should have seemed inevitable once the south tower fell...when I learned that United jets had been involved, I got worried for a cousin of mine, who is a senior pilot for United...eventually, I learned that he wasn't involved, that he mostly does training, these days, so that was good for our family, at least...

Lynn - no, no Requiems or Stabat Maters...say, rather, the Finlandia...the slow strings, weeping, almost unable to make forward progress...overcoming inertia with gradually increasing urgency...segueing into the triumphal soaring march of victory...that's where we're headed. That's our destination.

I was sitting in a wine-bar in Islington with two senior producers (political) from the Beeb I know. We kept getting phone calls from a mate of mine about it all. It was the most surreal thing I have ever been a part of; truely. It was as if the world around that wine bar had gone totally nuts and we were totally oblivious to everything.

I only realised how bad it really was when I got into a taxi to come home and the bloke drove me to Pimlico and refused to take any money, because I was an American.

By the end of the evening I was in tears as I watched what was going on. For some odd reason I went out to drinks reception that night despite what was going on. All of us there were in something close to denial, and hoping the news would be better when we got home.

I was woken that morning at 8 am also...by a phone call from my now fiance, who had just flown into another country and had no idea what was going on.

I was still in school, and the campus was scary and quiet. Even those of us who bothered to go to classes (most of which were cancelled anyway) weren't really there...we were thinking of everyone in New York and Washington and just wanting to be with our families.

And later, my roommates and I sat glued to the TV, not really wanting to watch anymore but also being unable to do anything else. And I was absolutely convinced that I wasn't going to see my fiance , that even if he got his flight on time that something would just happen.

We all have our own stories. And we'll never forget. And shouldn't. I have never been more proud to be an American than I was on that day last year, and every single day following.

God bless America.

I was at work in Boston when the woman in the cubicle next to mine shouted something about an aircraft bombing New York. I conjured up a vision of a couple of Islamonuts (even then my first thought was Muslims are involved) in a Cessna with the door open dropping a bomb out the door WWI style and thinking "what the hell"; then I went to the Fox News Web site and learned the magnitude of what happened.
We need to kill all these bastards, no mercy, no surrender, kill them all and be done with it. Civilization can't survive with these bastards in it

Anyone remember the scene in "The Untouchables" where Sean Connery's character is asking Kevin Costner's character "what is he willing to do" to get Al Capone? "If he pulls a knife, you pull a gun. If he sends one of your guys to the hospital, you send one of his to the morgue." America, what are you willing to do?

I have been reeling since 9/11. I have spent many hours reading and going through the web trying to make heads or tails of it.
Your site and the small community associated with it have been important to me in understanding and dealing this event.
You have helped prepare me to handle the storm that is to come upon this country.

You don't know me, but thank you.

She’s not 18 inches past the front door before our arms are around each other.

Make that a habit. As today's date will always remind you, you just never know.

I believe the phrasing Sean Connery's character used was "what are you prepared to do", not willing. I think we're prepared (and "willing" doesn't quite do justice) to do quite a lot. The hard part is tracking down those who need to be dead.

Great column, Steven. I remember it well. We don't have televisions here at LockMart, except to administer management propaganda at key points in the major hallways. I work in a closed area, so rumor was spread from spouses at home. Most of us promptly hooked up to CNN.com and watched in horror as the initial assessment of "tragedy" was belied by the second airplane slamming into the other tower. Realize we were in an information-poor environment. Still, most everyone I knew was near-crippled by an admixture of grief, rage, and frustration at not being able to do something; find the bastards who started this and end them.

For us, though, this is a date of celebration as well as sorrow. Five years ago today we received our first daughter, Emily, in Wuhan, China. It's an odd juxtaposition of emotions; we didn't even realize that these dates coincided until about a month ago. A year ago our normal celebration of that day was obliterated.

Best,

Dave

I hope neither you, nor anyone else receives a phone call like that again.

I remember working in my office like any other Tuesday and one of the guys calling in from the road after hearing the news on the radio

"A plane hit the trade center"

OK, maybe it was an accident, back to work.

"hey hit the other one. We're under attack"

That's no accident.

"They got the Pentagon"

We all left our desks and watched the TV in the conference room. I was stunned.. then enraged as I watched them both fall.

They gave us all the option of going home, I decided I was gonna try to tough it out. That lasted till lunch. I couldn't focus on my screen through all the grief and rage. I knew I would have gone off on the next guy who whined about his settlement, as if you could worry about such things when we're under attack. I went home and watched FoxNews all day and all night. I still leave it on the TV in the bedroom at night. ITs the last thing I see when I turn in and the first thing when I wake up. And those times are much closer together than I would like.

I have only sparse recollection of that day. My memory of it resembles more a series snapshots, moments in time, than any coherent memory.

I remember standing in front of the TV at home, tying my tie, preparing for my second day at my new job. Watching the Today show when the news of the first tower broke.

An accident. Gotta be. That hole looks kinda big for a private plane though. Nah, must be my imagination.

I think I walked away to get my stuff; wallet, car keys..normal stuff. Then I'm back in front of the TV. A fireball from the second tower, live and in living color. Jesus Christ. Fucking bastards. I feel my knees buckle a bit.

Next memory was listening to the radio on the way to work. I remeber the exact turn I was making when I heard the Pentagon had been hit.

No memory until I walked into the office. New boss says Hi and how am I doing this morning. They flew planes into the Trade towers I respond, the Pentagon to. She just has this blank look on her face, like I was speaking Latin.

Nothing until I walk into the break area around luch time and learn that the towers have fallen, both of them. I think, 50 thousand people work there. My God.

Then a blurry recollection of the news that evening until I couldn't stand it anymore. Three shots of tequila so i could sleep and stop the tears and anger and sorrow, if only for a few hours.

This was a well written piece.

I worked 3 blocks away from the Trade Center so that day was just chaos and confusion for me. I think the closer you were to the site, the less you knew what was going on. Definitely the scariest thing I've ever been through.

Last night I watched the film "9/11" made by 2 (French?) brothers who were documenting the life of a NY firehouse.For the first time in my life I cried tears of rage as I listened to the explosions of people's bodies on the roof of the lobby above the command post set up by the firemen who did not know what was to come.One fireman later described the scene as "raining bodies" I have been left with a thirst for blood and revenge I never realized I was capable of.(On 9/11/01 I was mostly in shock)The film should be recquired to be shown in all highschools across the country.I wish I were able to grab the nearest liberal apologist by the neck and shove their fucking face in the mush that used to be a human being and then ask them if they still think we need to "understand" and "develope a dialogue" with these animals.From today forward I am all for total war against all muslim extremists(and those people who support and cheer them on) and if we can make them die hard that's even better.Europeans have a problem with this statement? Too fucking bad,I suggest they first stay the fuck out of our way and view the film if they want to know why we will do this alone if necessary.

Pericles told me about the 9/11 attacks.

When the terrorists struck, I was flying to Greece for a 2-week vacation.

When I landed in Athens, I was unaware of the attacks. I got into a taxi. My driver, Pericles, immediately asked me, in broken English, if I had heard about the airplanes.

We were at the Athens airport. I had just gotten off an airplane. What a stupid question, I thought. I asked him, "What airplanes?"

He said, "You know those two tall buildings in New York? Airplanes hit them and they fell down."

Is that so?

And then he said, "There is an airplane in the military building in Washington."

You mean the Pentagon?

Yes, yes, that one.

After he told me this, he turned on the radio in his taxi and attempted as best he could (God bless him) to translate the news from the Greek radio station.

Stunned is too advanced an emotion to describe my reaction. To be honest, I simply didn't believe him. I was jet-lagged and bemused and stupefied. I thought perhaps Pericles was crazy, or maybe drunk.

But I know crazy, and I know drunk. After looking in his eyes as they stared at me from his rear-view mirror, I knew he was neither.

After half an hour of listening to Pericles tell me the news reports, we arrived at my hotel and CNN.

I will never forget the attacks of 9/11. Nor will I ever forget Pericles.