Remembering

Sept. 11 will forever be part of my past. Tuesday morning. Andrew had just gone to DC the day before for his interviewing/testing with the CIA, which I couldn't tell anyone back then. I was watching the news while getting for work when I saw the smoke at the the World Trade Center. They were interviewing witnesses and all of the sudden I watched the other plane fly into the other tower right there. I suddenly knew. I knew we were under attack. I sat glued to the TV and called in late for work and stayed a bit to watch more. Scared.

Then when I saw the next plane hit the Pentagon, I was terrified. I knew Andrew was in DC, but I didn't know where he was. Some undisclosed location, I had been told. I panicked. I had no one to call because I didn't have a number.

So I went to work. Better to pass time with coworkers than staying at home. I didn't hear from him for hours and when I finally did I was relieved. Next my brother, who lives in Manhattan. He was accounted for and he had seen the first plane fly overhead when we went out to take something to the mailbox. His first thought, "That plane is flying a little too close to the buildings." He was right.

My husband was stuck in DC until Friday and managed to get out on the first flight from Dulles that morning. He said people where praying on the plane and when it finally touched down in Austin, the plane errupted in applause.

It was then my husband set out to fight the "bad guys." We officially moved to Washington DC in January 2002 where he has dedicated the last almost seven years to making this country safer.