I wasn’t listening to anything that day. Not that I can remember anyway.
My morning ritual of coffee and NPR news was underway while I was on my way to class.
The first plane hit shortly after that class started. We had no idea it was going on until our first break of the day. A neighboring classroom, a video production lab, had a TV cart pushed out into the hallway.
There was a gaggle of 20 or 30 people trying to see the screen. Some were standing in the back of the crowd talking about the images, some were holding each other.
When I finally got some information I was gobsmacked. I imagine the feeling I felt was similar to others who heard about horrible events that seem to come out of the blue.
Was it an accident?
Class resumed as the second plane took its toll. That left little doubt about accident or not. Our minds were somewhere else but our instructor held fast to the lesson plan.
As the towers collapsed on live TV the instructor lost control of the class and everybody went their separate ways. I found a phone to call friends and family who were in an earlier time zone.
Feeling vulnerable, helpless, and even a little scared I did the only thing I could think of… I went to work.
The situation was similar there, people watching a television screen trying to comprehend what had just happened.
That day was not a day for music. That day was the day for silence. If only there would have been silence.
Thumbing through the collection these years later trying to come up with an appropriate album to play in order to remember my feelings on that day was harder than I expected.
I’m not sure if any piece of music I know could represent that feeling or take me back to that date to remember.
This is all I could think of: