I remember that Tuesday afternoon so clearly. It was sunny and the sky was blue, on the drive to visit Julie Jones I heard the news on the radio, they said a small plane had crashed into one of the world trade centre towers. Her tv was on and we watched in horror as the tower burned, people jumped and then as the second tower was hit, they repeated it over and over and it still didn’t make sense. I struggled to process that this was no movie, but a terror attack in front of me. I got home and watched some more while making supper and bathing the children.
First one tower fell and then the other and our world was changed.
One of the first things we wanted to visit in New York was ground zero and the museum paying homage to those lives that were lost and impacted on September 11th 2001. The museum was quite full, people were quiet, respectful , surrounded by images of terror and loss. Lt-Col Robert Darling was selling his book 24 hours inside the President’s bunker 9-11-01 the White House. I talked Andrew into buying a copy. There were photos and mementoes, a mini statue of liberty covered by ephemera left by mourners paying homage. We saw a statue of the roots of a sycamore tree that was uprooted when the towers collapsed. The sense of grief there is overwhelming.
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