Eight Years

I've seen lots of blog and Facebook posts today commemorating the eight years since September 11, 2001.

I can't believe it's been eight years. Where has the time gone?

I remember a lot about that day. I was working for a big Internet company, located near Dulles airport. My co-worker's husband was a lobbyist for the FAA, and she came down to my office to tell me a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center. This was before it was online or on the news, so we headed into our office kitchen, where the TV was always on CNN. We flipped the channels until we saw something, finally landing on the Today Show.

There a bunch of us all stood, watching it happen. I remember seeing the plane crashing into the second tower and hearing Al Roker gasping. I remember another co-worker running into the kitchen, crying about the Pentagon and being so worried about her daughter who was in a daycare nearby.

I remember calling Tessa from my desk, and her telling me that the buildings were falling. I remember being evacuated (Being too close to Dulles and the hosting spot for the majority of Web transactions maybe made our giant building a target? Everyone thought they were a target that day). I remember calling my mom at school as I drove to a co-worker's house to wait out the afternoon, and mom telling me that a fourth plane had crashed in Pennsylvania.

I remember watching the coverage, seeing the posters of the missing and hearing their families' pleas to find them safely. I sat on the couch and cried.

Eight years. Wow. I remember it like it was yesterday.