Where Were You...

James Lileks is asking the question today.

I was at work. I'd just barely arrived and was settling in for the morning when I could hear the television on rather loudly in the conference room through the wall. After a few minutes it became evident that it was not some training video turned up extra loud, so I got curious. I wandered over to see what was going on.

I was not prepared for what I saw on the television. The first tower had already fallen, and the second was about to fall. We were under attack. I watched for awhile and then wandered back to my desk. I called my wife and talked to her about it for a while. A co-worker was listening to radio coverage and repeated the report that there were carbombs being set off all over Manhattan.

I called my wife. I don't recall what we said. I don't recall much about the day after that, other than an ex-marine in our company jokingly calling "Allahu Akbahr" or however it goes. I thought it in rather poor taste, but didn't bother to point it out. It didn't really matter.

That night my wife and I went out to dinner. It was our anniversary, and we were not about to drop out plans. The up-side was that we nearly had the restaurant to ourselves.

It's six years later and it's still our anniversary. I don't want to make light of what happened six years ago, but as grave as that day was, it's the event eight years ago I prefer to dwell on. Our 9-11 makes The 9-11 all that more poignant. It's the anniversary of the day when I suddenly had so much more to lose.

It's been an amazing eight years. Thank you, sweetheart!