I was living in San Francisco. I woke up earlier than usual on September 11th, and for some unknown reason, I turned on the TV (which I never did in the morning). At first, I thought the that the news I heard and saw was all a terrible accident. As I got ready for work, my son came upstairs, and he had also woken up early and turned on the news. He, however, did not think it was accidental. When I arrived at my hospital job, many of the patients were watching TV. By then, the second plane had crashed and it seemed less likely that this was an accident. As the day progressed, the news became more bizarre and the feelings of paranoia grew. The Golden Gate Bridge, and other essential routes for travel were closed. Security guards were posted at the doors of the hospital, and such a measure had never been done previously, during the 12 years I worked there. I tried to avoid watching the images on TV, instead I listened to the radio. But those images of planes crashing continue to remain imprinted into my brain. They still remain ten years later, along with all of the phrases about how our country had lost it’s innocence on that day (a similar phrase was used when JFK was killed, but this time it seemed that the whole population was vulnerable and in harms way). About two months later I needed to fly in order to attend a conference. Friends and family were worried, and the armed military officers and heightened security at the airport were so different than what I’d ever experienced in the past. The aftermath of September 11th remains haunting.
Corrales, New Mexico