Where were you?

It's 9/11. Beside the momentary nod in the media, I guess I haven't really heard much today about the anniversary. It's funny that with the passage of time the anniversaries of horrific things seem to have less gravity. I guess that would only apply to those of us not directly affected. I know that my own personal anniversary of devastation still carries some weight.

Anyway, I was trying to remember where I was when I heard about the attacks. I still remember that when the Gulf War broke out, I was laying in bed after a long practice. My sister came in to tell me we were at war. I told her, "I don't give a shit. Now get out of my room." Gotta love teenagers. I remember where I was when the OJ verdict was announced. I skipped class and sat at the May 4 Memorial at Kent waiting to hear the verdict on my headphones trying to decided when to go into the newsroom.

So that brings me to 9/11. As I remember, I was running that morning around Landen Lake. I had already done the long stretch, turned onto Columbia and headed back to the condos. I ran passed a crew working on the road. They had all stopped and were standing completely still listening to the radio. The first tower had just been hit. I ran the last mile or so as fast as I could. When I got back to the apartment, Kevin was glued to the TV with this look of horror on his face.

I think as Americans we lived with this sense of naive invincibility. It's a luxury we no longer have. I miss some of that naiveté.