Five years
“I can’t believe it’s been five years already.” she says (one of many times this weekend).
“I know.” I reply, suddenly solemn. “It would be though… I was on the phones at the time.”
I’d been working at the telecentre as a service delivery agent.
“I remember when Karla came in and told me a plane had crashed into the first tower.” I recount, and though she’s heard the story quite a few times in the last five years, she listens. And despite the fact that she knows each word I will say, she hears what I am saying. Her mind is not wandering, recollecting her own memories. She is there with me completely.
It is a defining moment in our lives, as it is for everyone who is alive in this time.
“I didn’t believe her at first. I had a caller on hold and she kept telling me it was true.” I continue. “While answering the caller’s questions, I opened up a browser and pulled up CNN.com.”
Every news site was so flooded that it took forever to bring up a page.
“That’s when I knew she wasn’t kidding. CNN doesn’t run out of bandwidth… unless everyone is accessing it.”
By now, Karen has sat down beside her, her fingers slowly rubbing her warm coffee cup. She does this when she is pensive or serious.
“We were watching on the televisions in the office. People were huddling into groups.” she says when I have been quiet for a few minutes.
I had not had that priviledge. Tied to a telephone, as every other person in my office, we’d resorted to constantly refreshing our browsers to get the news of what was happening. Cries would ring above the drone of talking. “ABC news is up.” “CNN hasn’t crashed, you just have to keep refreshing and eventually a page comes up.” “The second tower has been hit!”
A shiver literally runs down my spine as I type these words… the memory is so powerful.
This morning, having done my normal aimless surfing, I read many people’s recounting of where they were when it happened. The same power is infused in each of their passages… and we understand each other. Without going into horrific detail, we remember and can appreciate the depth of this or that person’s memory.
From there, I headed over to CNN.com, knowing there would be some sort of tribute. What I discovered instead was a video of the ordeal… the original coverage. I proceeded to watch, and was glued to my chair, that same dread in the pit of my stomach as I saw the plane hit… watched the towers collapse. A strange feelings comes over you when you appreciate the fact that this was deliberate… that this kind of evil can exist.
I turned the video off after watching the second tower come down… stood up from my chair… got another cup of coffee. I’d have liked to shake this feeling, though I think it will remain until the kids come home from school and I can remember that there is beauty in this world.
