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September 11, 2011

by Lynn

Early in the morning on September 11, 2001, I boarded a plane from Florida to Seattle. I was returning home from my mother’s funeral.

When the plane landed for its scheduled stop in Nashville, it was just before 9 a.m.

We were hurried into the terminal with no explanation, and joined the silent crowd jammed around a TV on a restaurant wall where we watched in horror and utter confusion as the second plane hit.

We hadn’t seen the first so we had no idea what was going on.

I remember those first moments as surreal as I tried to make sense of what was happening.

It was much later during the week as I sat glued to the TV at the home of friends who graciously took me in until I could catch a flight home, that I realized how fortunate I was to have been on a plane on September 11 that had not been turned into a weapon.

Ten years later, as I searched in a closet for the pictures accompanying this post, I could feel the pain and fear and confusion of those first moments rise again.

And even though I now know the facts of what happened, I will never understand the why.

Parking lot at the Nashville Airport, 4 p.m. September 11, 2001.

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