*Because I was living in the central time zone, working at a job that allowed me to sleep until 8:30, I woke up as the radio DJ announced "Two planes have been flown into the World Trade Center in New York. This does appear to be a terrorist attack."

*My mom still hadn't left for work either, and though both of us knew what was going on, neither one of us could face breaking the news to the other.

*I arrived at work exactly as the second tower fell. My most vivid memory of that day still is stepping out of the car, and the handful of gravel on the asphalt in the parking lot. It was exactly like every other morning, and yet I knew it wasn't.

*The surreal feeling of hearing the exact same press conferences playing nearly simultaneously over my office radio, tuned to NPR, and the waiting room TV, tuned to one of the three networks.

I was lucky. I didn't have any relatives or friends or even friends of friends who were lost that day. I didn't even know anyone who was stranded when the airports were closed. All I can record is my experience as an distant observer, and pray for those who are marking a far more personal and painful anniversary