It must have been 8:30 or 9 am, California time, and I felt disoriented because I’d been up very late writing for my dissertation. I had a small tv I kept in the kitchen for the evening news, and had actually never watched CNN, not being a news-junkie at that time. I watched for awhile in shock, then went out in my bathrobe to get the paper. My neighbor friend laughingly called out asking why I was up so early, and I told her to turn on CNN, as New York City had been attacked.

My experience of 9-11 and all that followed was so prosaic, because of being so far away. The endless loop on tv, the endless repetition of the timeline that kept me baffled for days because I had been asleep and they kept talking about times that were aligning with the the time my daughter called me, among other things. I kept thinking I was seeing part of it in real time. It took me over a week to sort it out.

Just sheer shock. How? Why?

My sister in Massachusetts and my best friend who worked in D.C. were much closer in every respect. I found out a few years years later that my cousin’s husband, an Admiral, had been working in the Pentagon.

My sister’s two children each knew a classmate who had a grandma on a flight out of Boston. My friend and her husband heard and felt the impact when the plane hit the Pentagon. The Admiral was unharmed but went to work on the horrible job of pulling the dead and wounded out of the Pentagon. My husband had cousins in New Jersey, and my neighbor lady was from New Jersey.

My friend’s husband originated in the Middle East and his name was a dead giveaway. They had some really nasty experiences, and ultimately changed their name. I think there was a quick sorting out of who was really their friend and who wasn’t. She had to travel for her Civil Service job, and was forever after pulled out of the line at the airport for special screening.

Everything changed. I can look back and say that now. I’ve always hated conspiracy theories. But there was something so godsdamned fishy about finding the passports in the rubble of the Towers. I mean,

I wanted to be in the streets, but made myself finish my dissertation first. Then I joined the marchers in my town, was invited to join the local Vets for Peace (I’m a civilian, but they liked me), joined DU, and was very active indeed for the duration of the BushCheney administration. I am proud of the work I did during those years.

Sad to say, the path I thought I would take after getting my doctorate never was fulfilled. I knew I was at a fork in the road, and I felt absolutely compelled to go oppose Bush and his lies and his war. I knew there was a good chance I would not be able to retrace my steps. But all in all, I could not remain silent.