My brother and I went to the same college, and we both had oil painting class on Tuesday mornings. We arrived, went to our easels and laid out our palettes and brushes. It was the art building janitor, Jack, who came in to tell us "Turn on the radio, right now!" We did and for the rest of class we listened to it happening. We were still standing in front of our easels, but not a lot of painting got done.
Mostly, it was completely unreal. We didn't see any of those images of planes hitting the towers, not until later. I stood there thinking, I wonder if they'll hit the White House next, and yet I felt completely detached.
The one thing I remember most vividly was that radio voice saying "We've just got word that another plane has crashed in Western Pennsylvania..." and my heart actually physically jumped. I could feel it hitting my ribs. Because the rest of my family was in Western PA, and even though the chances were about 10 million to one that this particular plane had crashed on top of our house—you just don't think logically at such a time. It was a real comfort that my brother was in the same room, and we were together.
It was certainly a sensation of shock. The college chaplain had a service that evening and I went, but I cried for most of the service. I hadn't cried before that, much, though tears came to my eyes after class when I went through the student union and saw the images on the TV.
Interestingly our college did not cancel a single class. The president had decided that we wouldn't give the terrorists that triumph over us. Most of the classes talked about it, but they did meet.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
zaluzianskya and ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
skylark_photos
Where I was
Date: 2005-09-12 02:45 pm (UTC)Mostly, it was completely unreal. We didn't see any of those images of planes hitting the towers, not until later. I stood there thinking, I wonder if they'll hit the White House next, and yet I felt completely detached.
The one thing I remember most vividly was that radio voice saying "We've just got word that another plane has crashed in Western Pennsylvania..." and my heart actually physically jumped. I could feel it hitting my ribs. Because the rest of my family was in Western PA, and even though the chances were about 10 million to one that this particular plane had crashed on top of our house—you just don't think logically at such a time. It was a real comfort that my brother was in the same room, and we were together.
It was certainly a sensation of shock. The college chaplain had a service that evening and I went, but I cried for most of the service. I hadn't cried before that, much, though tears came to my eyes after class when I went through the student union and saw the images on the TV.
Interestingly our college did not cancel a single class. The president had decided that we wouldn't give the terrorists that triumph over us. Most of the classes talked about it, but they did meet.