I was pregnant with my first child, my son, when the tragic events of Sept. 11, 2001, were unfolding. I had an appointment for an ultrasound scheduled at Cedars Sinai for that day, and I was looking forward to it.
I had set my clock-radio to awaken me at 8 a.m. But instead of being awakened to music, I heard serious talking about "towers being hit ... and have collapsed" and "not yet sure of the death toll, which could be in the tens of thousands." And still, "...another plane has hit the Pentagon...."
Still groggy, I thought I was listening to some fiction program, a la War of the Worlds. Surely, this account to which I was listening couldn't be factual, I thought. That wasn't possible. So, I turned on the television.
Of course, the horrific images I saw being played out live said it all. It was all too real, too terrifying.
I called for my husband, who was in the shower getting ready for work. He immediately came out and we viewed the news together.
A few moments later, the phone rang. It was a secretary from my doctor's office. My appointment had been cancelled. The phone rang again. My husband was told not to report to work at Sony in Culver City. The studio was being shut down.
On television, we were being told that another plane, Flight 93, was still missing.
We were under attack from some unseen enemy, and we were panicked. All I could think about was the safety of my unborn child. Not sure of what was about to happen next (would Los Angeles be targeted?), my husband ran to the market to pick up extra food and supplies ... just in case.
The rest of the day was spent in front of the television, watching in shock, sadness and fear. How could this happen? Why would this happen? Questions that still go unanswered in the metaphysical sense.
And, of course, we will never forget.
What are your memories? What were you doing that morning when it happened. Share your thoughts and comments in the box below.
