It was a Tuesday, and the weather was perfect.  75 degrees, not a cloud in the sky.  I remember thinking that it was a shame that I had to go to work.  An ordinary thought that I only remember because of what was to come…

I was working as a Bookkeeper for a local company at the time, and I was scheduled to close the books for August that day.  The owner of the company was out in California at the time, and he called in and told the receptionist that we were “under attack by fucking terrorists.”  This would have been very close to 9:00am because we immediately turned on the only TV in the building, in a conference room, 10 feet from my desk.  The TV was on when the only channel we could get with an antenna started reporting that a 2nd plane had crashed into the South Tower.  We had over 100 people in our building and at least half of them sat in that conference room watching the devastation replay over and over.  And all day long, the only sounds that came out of that room were the quiet sobs of people crying.  The faces of the people coming out  of that conference room were those of complete shock and disbelief.

My boss cruised by my desk and said, “You still need to close today.”

I was lucky enough to be able to get onto MSNBC.com and CNN.com which I alternated between for the next 7 hours while I worked to close.  I also picked up the phone and called DH who was on his way downtown to give a deposition in a legal matter he was involved in at the time.  He had seen the reports just before leaving the house and was upset but also focused on where he was going and what he had to do.

My family was all on the West Coast at the time, and my parents are both early risers.  I called my dad’s house first and talked to my step-mother.  Dad was in the shower, but my call was the first they had heard about it.  She rushed to turn on CNN.

I then called my mom, and like my dad and step-mother, she hadn’t heard anything about it yet.  I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but at the same time, I just had a real need to hear my parents voices and know that everyone I loved was ok.

I continued working as I talked to people and alternately manned the live feeds on both news sites.  I called my dad again because I wanted to hear his voice too.  It was comforting to talk to him, but at the same time, I could hear the disbelief, fear and anger in his voice.  My dad, who had always seemed to have all the answers, didn’t seem to know what to say.

DH finally called again around 10:45am.  He had been in a building adjacent to the Federal Courthouse and had been evacuated because nobody knew when or where something else might happen.  He asked what was going on with the Twin Towers.  My response, “They’re gone.  Both towers collapsed.”  There was silence on the line and then my big, strong husband started to cry.  That was the one point of the day when I almost lost it.

I am a Type A personality who usually doesn’t deal well with stress.  However, in the worst situations of my life (like the 3 days we waited for results of a test that would show whether 15-month old K had leukemia, almost losing P at 16 weeks pregnant and spending the next 4 months on bedrest, etc.), I always manage to keep it together until I’m sure everything is fine.  Then I lose it and usually it’s far worse than if I had just let the stress out in little bits along the way.

I had to man the reception desk while the receptionist went to lunch.  From there, I could see out the windowed facade at the front of our building.  That’s when my thoughts from earlier came back to me.  It was still gorgeous outside, still no clouds in sight, but somewhere in my country, people were dead or dying, buildings that were a symbol of my country’s power were destroyed and everyday citizens just going to work or school had been attacked.

Just before 4:00pm, I finished closing the books.  Many of my fellow workers had already left for the day.  I walked into my boss’ office, handed her the closing reports and just told her I was leaving.  Didn’t ask, just left.  Because I had to hold it together just a little bit longer and find a way to explain something that I couldn’t believe or understand to my children…

We put the kids to bed and said prayers for all the lives that had been lost and the many more whose lives would never be the same.  Then DH held me while I cried.

But what stands out the most for me about that day is how beautiful it was with that cloudless sky…  10 years gone and I still don’t understand how or why such terrible things could happen on such a perfect day.