Yah, so I just sorta wanted to get this post out of the way early. Its the 7th anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, a most egregious bummer of a day.
I was in the city and at work (up in the 50s on 7th Ave, real far away from the WTC) that day. We watched the second plane crash on TV. Internet and phones went down for the day and we were let out early. On my walk to Grand Central Terminal (I was living in Connecticut at the time) you could look down Fifth Avenue and see the plumes of smoke. It was a beautiful, dry day too. Eerie. At the station, some people were covered in dirt and dust. They jumped on the commutter rail to leave the city and go home to their families. No one I knew died. One co-worker lost his father (I couldn't imagine that) but that was it.
The next day my father woke me up at 6am. "I'm not letting those bastards change my life" and drove off to New Jersey to go to work. I was just happy to have a day off and went mountain biking instead (plus I hated my job and wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to go back). It still hadn't really settled in. Sometimes it still hasn't. Its a downer day.