As best as I recall, these are my memories of that morning and the stories of two friends who were lucky enough to share their experiences of escaping the horror they whitnessed at the Twin Towers.

It was around 6:00 AM, PST, my husband was getting ready to leave for work, when he came back into the bedroom and turned on the television and woke me from a half sleepy state.  I remember his words were something like," Honey, I am sorry to wake you but you have to see what's happening in New York!  A plane has crashed into one of the Twin Towers."  I sat up in bed with a start, to see the beginning of the nightmare that was unfolding.  We both watched intently while the smoke began billowing from high up in the tower, not believing our eyes.  We listened as the news reporter proclaimed that a small plane had hit the tower.  A freak accident was the first thought, followed by more and more details.  Then, with all cameras on the towers, we watched together as the 2nd plane and seemingly larger plane, struck the other tower.  In that moment, we and most of the world watching, knew this was no accident.

I could feel the tears welling up inside me, searching the TV reporters eyes for answers, where none were spoken for several moments.

My husband and I reached for the box of tissues as we continued to watch in total disbelief, frozen in place in our bedroom, watching as the first tower began to crumble before our eyes.  The smoke, the throngs of people madly running in all directions, the utter chaos, the shock of what was rapidly becoming a new reality and the ensuing numbness.

How could this be happening?  Minutes later, to actually whitness live on television, the 2nd tower begin to crumble, moments after seeing camera shots of people jumping from the upper floors, the urgent tone of disbelief in the news anchor's voice, we watched.  And we watched in silence, except for the sound of blowing our noses into our tissues again and again.

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An email, the day after the attacks, came from a friend and business associate.  To my complete surprise, Ted had been there, in the first tower.  He was in the building at about 8:45 AM for a 9:00 AM job interview, when the tower was struck.  The explosion and impact that was felt and heard, sent the first of many runnning out of the building and away from the chaos to follow.  Ted said that he hardly looked back while he ran about 4 miles to the other side of Manhattan to his apartment and watched the rest on TV.  He has very little memory of what happened as he remembers quite literally, running for his life.  The rest is a blank and more surreal than he can describe.  I was shocked that he had been there and had made it out to tell even this short bit of what he experienced.  I was so relieved to know that he made it out of what seemed an impossible outcome.

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While Ted was running out of the first tower, a former in-law of mine was walking between the towers, underground.  She was going between the 2nd tower to the first, coffee in hand, when all hell broke loose.  Many underground were scrambling to the nearest exits to evacuate due to some explosion of unknown origin until they were well away from the Twin Towers.  She made it out and ran for her life as well, unscathed, save for the horrific visuals she carries with her always.

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Two days later, I was on the phone with customer service for a very large mid-west manufacturer for whom I was a manufacturer's rep.  Coincidentally, my friend Ted had recently left this company to pursue other interests. They employed around 1,600 hundred men and women in their manufacturing plant.  Approximately 2 weeks before 9/11, two hundred of their employees were called up from reserves to active duty and were sent to the east coast.  All we could say outloud was, "They must have known something was going to happen."

Fuzzy as some of the news events were at the time, I do recall that there was talk that President Bush had been informed by the CIA, three weeks prior, that there would be a terrorist attack on US soil, likely on one or more major east coast cities.  There was no pin pointing exactly where or when but that it was reliable intel and it was imminent.  Another report stated that news of a possible attack came around three months prior but with no details that would allow for defensive measures.

We've all heard the stories, the what if's, the accusations, the blunders, the possibilites of what really was or wasn't.  The one thing that will stick in my brain is that this was a very well thought out, well planned and executed plot against our country and way of life.  The men who trained for this event, received much of their information and skills right here in America, under our unsuspecting noses.  They attended our flight schools, they lived in our neighborhoods, they had families, mistresses and bought food in the same markets.  They were there and they were invisible.

Being a former flight attendant, I have friends who are still working for the airlines.  One other flight attendant, knew of another who was dating one of the hijackers (learned after the fact, of course) and was told not to fly on this date, no questions asked.  She heeded his demand.  She had no idea who he was or what he would do in the name of hatred for America.  Her flight would have been the one that left Boston.  Her nightmare is for her replacement that day and the family's of the deceased.  She dodged one bullet that day but lives with another bullet, lodged deep within her soul.

There are hundreds or thousands of other stores like this we have heard told and passed on since this life changing event.  Most Americans will never be the same again; will never look at security, sanity or saftey in the same way.  We have been scarred for life.  We carry our horror-filled memories around like grenades, ready to go off, every time there is "Breaking News."  We are a more vigilant nation;  more suspicious minded and more hyper-aware of our surroundings, of our travel and our protection.

These are my memories and not intended to be spoken facts of the events.  They are very close to what happened to those I know and are imbedded in my psyche forever.

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In the aftermath of 9/11, I, my neighbors, friends and relatives, were struck by the coming together of all people, the relinquishing of divides and party lines, the need for unity and strength for a badly bruised nation.  We were one.  We had solidarity, pride, determination and deep consideration for our fellow Americans.  We stood together, fears aside with the love for our country and way of life, healing as one.  In unison  we proudly displayed our American flags in front of our homes for over a year, at least.  Some still do.  Many disappeared.

The healing has gone on for eight years now and will continue to heal for the rest of our lives.  It is essential, vital, that we remember the positive that came out of this horrific event; that we remember the heroe's that pulled so many bodies from darkness to light, those that perished, those that gave their lives in the rescue of others, those families that were directly affected by tragedy and loss...and so much more.

In remembering, I heal a little more.