My sister called me, and I tuned in just in time to see the second plane hit. I was glued to the TV for the next few hours. My neighbor and I didn't know what was going on, but we both filled out bath tubs with water in case things got worse and there was a problem with city water.
We both did a quick comparison of supplies and decided to stick together and pool our resources if needed, and both loaded our guns. I spent a few minutes going over proper gun usage with my wife in case she needed it. Better to have a gun and not need it then to need it and not have it.
When I finally went to work around noon, I had some stuff in my car (good thing it wasn't searched) in case stuff went sour locally. When I got into the office, everyone was in shock. After a few hours of all of us being glued to the news (the day
http://www.cnn.com almost died because of traffic), everyone went home. I picked up non-perishable supplies and water treatment pills on the way home. The next day, I started thinking about things like anthrax, so I bought a case of Pedialite and some particulate masks. Pedialite because severe dehydration is one of the big things that kills ya if you've got one of those diseases, and particulate masks in case there was fire/collapse/etc in LA (where we live) and we needed to go downtown to help.
For almost a year afterwards, I kept obsessing in my mind about what it must have been like on the planes and in the buildings. I saw, clear as day, the hijackings and the moment of impact. I saw the dark hallways of the WTC, filled with dust and the flickering light of fire as people lay burned and semi-conscious. I saw in my mind people forced up against a window by fire making the decision to jump, and imagined myself falling. I saw uninjured people from the top levels trying to figure out a way past the obstructions in the stairways on the levels where the planes hit, then looking upwards in confusion as the structural groans started, then running in panic as each floor above them collapsed. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM closer together until, in their last moment, the ceiling above them crumbles, then blackness.
Even today, whenever I fly on a 767 or 757, I look forward along the length of the cabin and do a little math. At 450-500mph, I ask myself, would the passengers at the back be able to comprehend the destruction rushing towards them as the plane flew into a building?
I don't think I'm the only one, but nobody ever talks about it.