Honestly, nine years ago, I had no earthly idea what was going on. It didn't make sense to me why people would crash planes in to buildings. I didn't fully comprehend death. I did however feel all the emotions. All the hurt. All the fear.
My brother was supposed to be working in the Pentagon that day. My mother frantically called. No answer. His baby. Who was born July 14th of that year, 3 months early. Was in the NICU at Bathesda. Finally, a lot later in the day. Around 5pm. He called. My nephew had been released, out of the blue, the day before. He had been up all night with him and decided to stay home that day. God is good. Very good. I remember that.
I remember the fear. That was everywhere. For the weeks to come.