Saturday, October 1, 2011

#27- Somebody called me... 9-1-1

I was at a Haitian night club when I got the call and heard of Aaliyah's untimely death.  I had just bought her album and was enjoying it when this happened.

People who knew of her sunk into a collective depression.  People who didn't know about her soon learned of her graceful ways.  People cried, videos were made, and finally the funeral took place under difficult and surreal circumstances.

I was on the second floor of my college math lab when I got a frantic call from one of my best friends.

"Oh my God, Reggie! Are they going to send you?"

I whispered "What are you talking about?  Calm down."

"Oh my God, Reggie!  Turn on the fucking TV."

I packed my stuff and walked into the Math Department's Office when I saw what looked like a movie on the screen.  I was watching the burning building that had just been hit by a plane in New York City.  Suddenly, I saw another plane hit the second World Trade Center.

I was in shock and slowly backpedaled out the office and went downstairs to see if I was not in a dream state.  People slowly gathered around screens and then dissipated without any official word from the school.  Everything was happening fast and slowly all in real-time.

I went home and asked my unit if we had to report in.  I was told to wait.

America was attacked.  The nation stood still in shock.  Everyone were glued to the TVs.

Suspects were eventually produced.  The news media said that Islamic extremists, who hated America, were the culprits.  The entire world changed after that point.

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