My parents can tell me exactly where they were and what they were doing the day JFK was shot. I will always remember where I was on 9/11. I had spent the summer in New York City studying ballet at the Joffrey Ballet School in their beautiful studios on the corner of 11th and 6th Avenue (aka Avenue of the Americas). That was my third summer there. I knew the city well enough to feel comfortable running around by myself. I had come to love that city for the cultural opportunities, the Arts that it was home to, and craziness of the city! I had been to the top of the Twin Towers and seen the view from up there. My parents, who had come out to see me perform, and I boarded a plane back to California exactly one month before 9/11. It had never crossed my mind to be concerned about my safety during the flight.
My summer continued on as normal, attending second summer session at my university, taking ballet class, and hanging out. Then one morning, one fateful morning, I was asleep at the home of my boyfriend at the time, and my cell phone rings. It was my mother. Deciding that it was too early to have a conversation with her, i let it go to voicemail. She called back again, and then a third time. It was then that I knew something must be wrong. I listened to her voicemail telling me that a plane had been hijacked and flown into one of the Twin Towers. I couldn’t believe it. I thought she had flipped her lid. I called her back and first thing she said was to turn on the tv. I did….and never moved. All day I watched the news, watching the planes fly into the towers over, and over, and over again.
As I watched people helping others from the wreckage, I noticed everyone was covered in dust. Everyone looked the same and everyone felt the same pain. For awhile, the nation was drawn together to help in a time of great need. The lines were erased. Differences set aside. We came together as a nation.
I will never forget where I was, how I felt or what I saw.
Where were you?