Yesterday marked 7 years since the planes crashed into the World Trade Center buildings. That day and the days following have burned a memory into my brain I'll never forget.
It was so damn quiet. Nothing in the sky. Barely anyone on the streets. You could walk up the street at night and see the glow from the TV at just about every house.
You felt closer to everyone, because we all were going through the same thing.
It's alarming to me how quickly 7 years have passed. I was sleeping when my brother woke me up and told me to turn the news on. We watched a few minutes and saw the 2nd plane hit, live on TV. Talk about surreal.
Life in general changed back then. I remember thinking then nothing would be the same. September 10th 2001 we were all living our lives, without fear or anger or hostility and the next day it all changed.
7 years later, I'm working at a new job, only to find out my boss's cousin was on Flight 11 out of Boston to L.A. and that his best friend's birthday is September 11th. How effed is that? Brings you back.
