9/11

9/11. Seventeen years later. Hard to believe. I was sitting in my living room with a cup of black coffee, just about to begin my work day. It was my habit to watch a bit of the news with my first cup of coffee. Initially it seemed that a private plane had crashed into one of the towers. They were showing the live video of the crash site while smoke billowed from the building and the commentators weighed the affair. Then a ball of flame suddenly erupted from the second tower. The station played the video again and again. It was quite clear now that a jetliner had plunged into the tower. In that moment, everything changed. I went back to the bedroom to rouse my wife. She was just now waking. I needed someone else to see. I could not bear to see anymore alone. I felt that a friend, a beloved, a second witness could somehow decrease the pain. “What happened?” she demanded of the TV screen. “What happened here?” And she began to cry. We began to cry. There was nothing else to do.