This is where I was

This is where I was…

All of the blog posts and Facebook updates– even the magazine articles–seem to share a common introduction today: “This is where I was…” This is how I felt. This is who I lost or worried about. This is who I called. This is how I reacted. I remember what happened. 

We tell the story of what happened ten years ago from our own perspective—we don’t start with the basic facts that we learned afterward—it’s too personal for that. There are thousands of images of that day online—but we don’t start with how someone else saw it. We start with ourselves. This is where I was. We place ourselves, locate ourselves physically as we tell go on to tell the story of our emotions—how the tragedy unfolded for us, our memories of those first days of shock and sadness that are unique in most of our lives, but that we all share.

We all have different stories—we watched in horror from downtown New York, we watched in horror from an airport in France, we watched in horror from an auditorium in Tennessee. But we all watched.

And today, we all remember.

New York City, August 2008 031

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