I was at home (San Antonio), getting my kids up for school that morning. They were just little ones back then, and my youngest wasn't born yet. It's astonishing how relentlessly time marches on regardless of heartache or triumphs. Anyhow...I turned on the TV to let them watch some morning cartoons with breakfast, and I saw a picture of the towers with smoke billowing out of one of them. Needless to say, no one watched any cartoons that day.

I just dropped whatever it was I was doing and stared at the TV...and saw the second plane hit. It was very surreal. Somehow, I numbly went through the motions of getting the kids ready for school and out the door to their bus stop. Then the rest of the day, I sat and watched all the stories unfold...saw the towers collapse...heard each new report of the other two planes going down....rumors of more planes headed for more targets... I don't think I'll ever lose those burned in images of people leaping from the upper floors of the towers.

For three days, I did little else but watch the news and cry. Then I turned the news off....and haven't watched it since.