I was at the ACC Rio Grande campus, in the library – Calculus was first thing in the morning, and then I’d hang out before catching the bus down to Central Market for my shift. I had checked my e-mail and hit the news sites before class, and at that point all anyone knew was that a plane had crashed into the World Trade Center in New York. No terrorism, no foul play, no hijacking… just… a plane crash.

Everyone in my class had heard about the crash, and everyone had different bits of news reports to share. The teacher sensed nothing would get done and dismissed us early, and I headed back to the library to check e-mail again. A crowd was gathering, and the library staff pulled a TV cart over and turned on the news. Everyone was rapt. Every space was filled with someone sitting or standing or leaning, watching the TV. And we watched, live, as the South Tower of the World Trade Center collapsed. People gasped, others were crying (including me). We were all frozen to our spots, watching as the news channel looped the video over and over – the crashes, the collapse, a plane in Pennsylvania, the Pentagon, the debris, the people running through ash, the people jumping from the windows… When the announcer broke in to show the collapse of the North Tower, at first we thought it was just another replay. Both towers? Both towers collapsed?

I wanted to stay in the library; I felt like I was rooted to my spot. But I was broke, and my job was expecting me. Most places were closing or already closed, but our store stayed open – people would need their olive bar mix and their organic tamales. But no customers came in, and everyone was in a fog – crying, hugging one another, whispering, shuffling around with nothing to do. Finally, in the middle of the afternoon with no sudden burst of grocery traffic in sight, our managers closed the doors. I was living with my brother at the time, and I rode the bus home and camped out in front of his TV. Where the videos were still looping without end.