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2002-09-11
i remember talking to jane after she returned home from student teaching. i asked her, "what are you telling those kids? how do you explain that?" partially because i wanted it explained to me, and because i was scared of what they were being told. "we told them they were safe. that there are bad people out there, but they are safe." i cried. i woke up that morning around 8:30am central time. therese left the tv on mute and i saw the footage of people jumping out of the towers. i remember thinking about how i thought that was in extremely bad taste. how if that happened people would do that in a last second act of desperation. i didn't know it was real. i checked my email and saw more pics online. i didnt want to turn the volume on. i didnt want to think it was real. so i showered and prepared for the day. i was supposed to see jimmy buffett that night. my 21st birthday was in 2 days. but i came back from the bathroom and there was more footage. the towers collapsing, the rubble, the dust, the sheer terror of the people on tv. it was real. so i go to work, my boss is on the phone with her husband. "get cash." she tells me jimmy buffett has been cancelled. i didnt care. i sort. sorting comforts me. anything. whether it's mail, or cds, books. it's all rote and comforting. i go to class. we talk. i go back to the room. i call gordon. he's not home. i don't freak, i know he's ok. he has to be ok, right? he was ok. i go to spanish class. la professora no comprende. she makes us talk in spanish about "las terroristas." how can we talk. the initial shock has worn off, the hurt and anger is setting in. i go home. i have class that night. i want for it to be cancelled. i want to curl up in my bed. but i don't. i clean. and i clean. and i call meg and ask her if she wants spaghetti for dinner. she doesn't care. i go to the store and get spaghetti sauce. the gas station at 56th and illinois is closed. it ran out of gas. i talk to jane. dr. levy doesn't cancel class, so we have spaghetti and go to class. his wife is from northern ireland. he tells us they win if they disrupt things. he will break class so we can see president bush talk. rodeo george talks, flush and excited to be swinging his guns and sending out his shiny planes. we'll fight 'em. we'll show 'em. a year later, we've shown them, ha! we talk in class. we discuss "ceremony" by leslie marmon silko. i get out of class, i want to see my mom and dad and cat. so i drive home. i buy gas. i see my mom who's been in front of the tv all day. i see my dad who gives me a hug. and i see my cat, who remains entirely unaffected by the whole thing. i drive back to campus and watch cnn until my eyelids deaden and i can't stand it anymore. and i go to bed, like everyone else who fell asleep that night, not knowing if i would really want to wake up the next morning for fear of what might happen next.
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