I was in Los Angeles on September 11, 2001, the city where several planes were supposed to arrive but never did. My memories of that day are still as vivid as they were ten years ago—a third of my life ago. Being nineteen and a freshman in college, your world is supposed to change. It’s just that none of us expected it to alter so completely.
I’ve told my story to countless friends in the past decade—about how a phone call awoke me from sleep (a wrong number), about how the man on the other line told me what had happened, about how I hung up on him because I didn’t believe him; his words just weren’t possible—but attempting to write further details just seems hollow today. I am only one of many.
Sometimes it is more important to listen than to speak, even if we only hear silence, for the space between us can be felt.