Inspired by Summer's post (and guilt for not thinking about this earlier. I did put the flag out. I didn't forget what today was, but my mind was so focused on selfish things (writing) that I didn't take the time to pause and remember. I'm embarrassed and apologetic for that. Forgive me.):
I was with my husband and 4 month old daughter (#1) on a houseboat on Lake Powell. It was a work retreat, and we didn't have cell phone coverage or television. We had NO idea it had even happened.
The next morning, when we pulled into the docks, people were telling us about it and we were all speechless. It was actually hard to believe, and it wasn’t until we stopped at a gas station to watch it being replayed over and over on the TV that we really believed it had happened.
The entire drive back to Provo was agonizing. Our aunt and uncle lived/worked in Manhattan, and we expected the worst. When our cell phone finally worked (AFTER Spanish Fork canyon, of course), we were able to find out that they were both fine.
The next week was spent in front of the television, horrified at what had happened.
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I was a newlywed, getting ready for classes at the Y, when I got a phone call from a family member telling me to turn on the news. I watched the 2nd plane crash. It was devastating. I was a zombie the rest of the day. Everywhere I went, the TV was televising what had happened.
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