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Blogs by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner
Where Were You? 9/10/2003 1:48:59 PM
I've been asked why I write about September Eleventh
so much. I wasn't there in New York, Washington D.C.
or in Shanksville, Pennslyvania; I wasn't aboard one
of the hijacked planes; I did not lose anyone close
to me in the attacks on our Nation. If I lost any-
one, it was the friend of a friend. Joyce Ann Car-
peneto, friend of John Brian Quinn, a fellow Author's
Denner from New York City. I didn't know her, never
met her, but in hearing about her, I would have loved
to known her.
Let me tell you why...first of all, let me tell you
what happened to me, where I was...
I live a world away from New York City, from Washing-
ton, D.C., from Shanksville, Pennsylvania. I was home
in Burleson, Texas (12 miles due south of downtown
Fort Worth).
I had just awakened, gotten dressed for work, came
downstairs and turned on the local news, like I al-
ways do every morning. It helps me to wake up. I
now wish I hadn't turned it on...how was I to know
what was about to happen would break my, as well as
the rest of the world's, heart?
There was a sudden, breaking news story: a plane
had run into one of the World Trade Center Towers;
I remember turning to my twin sister and commenting
how sad it was...I thought it was an accident. You
see planes flying around tall buildings all the time
(Love Field is located in downtown Dallas). It was
bound to happen.
That's when the second plane came in and hit the se-
cond Tower.
THE SECOND PLANE CAME IN AND HIT THE SECOND TOWER.
My twin sister looked at me, and I looked at her.
I said, "Dammit, we're under attack." She said,
"What do you mean, 'We're under attack'?" "There
is no way two planes could run into the same build-
ing," I said, and she said, in a hopeful voice, that
maybe it could have been an accident...maybe the
second pilot was watching what was happening and
made a mistake...I told her, "NO. That second air-
plane deliberately angled in and crashed into the
Tower."
I had to go to work, so I didn't get to watch the
news until later on in the evening. My twin would
NOT watch, it made her too scared and upset.
When I got home from work, I already knew that the
Pentagon was hit...that the Towers collapsed...our
boss kept us informed, and it seemed like the horror
just kept increasing and increasing. I got home, and
my twin and I decided to go to church. She was de-
livered of a spirit of fear. Walking home, we saw a
cloud in the form of an angel, and we got a sense of
peace, that everything was going to be okay.
She went to bed, and I turned on the T.V., and watch-
ed the news for over three straight hours. I cried
like I hadn't in a long time, and wrote the first of
my many poems.
I had never kept a journal, or wrote poems (except in
school, which was a long time ago). I was given a
Gift that September Day, and so, I write.
I write, because I live.
I live, because I breathe.
I breathe, because of God.
Because of God, I write.
Since September Eleventh, I have had a feeling of in-
credible sadness. I grieve for the innocents lost,
for their family members and friends, and for our
Nation...where we used to be relatively safe. Not
any more...those carefree, worry free days are gone
forever.
I will always remember September Eleventh, and will
never forget.
