I remember the phone ringing, not wanting to answer it because I was tired, but answering it anyway.
I remember my mom telling me to turn on the TV because there had been a plane crash, and feeling annoyed because I was scheduled to fly to Paris the next day and who wants to watch news about a plane crash the day before they fly.
I remember the exact shade of green of the shirt I was wearing and the feel of the ottoman against my legs when I pulled it up to sit within a foot of the television.
I remember seeing that second plane enter the screen and disappear into a cloud of fire and smoke, and crying in disbelief.
I remember, with absolute perfect clarity, watching a man and woman holding hands as they fell, and thinking my god, what must it be like for that choice, the choice to jump, be your best option.
I remember yelling, YELLING, at Peter Jennings when the split screen showed the tower begin to sway and then fall, and the look on his face when he realized what had happened.
I remember calling my college roommate who worked in the House of Representatives, when the news reported that a plane had crashed in DC, but they didn't know where.
I remember calling her parents to tell them she was okay, that it wasn't Capital, and that she would call them when she could.
I remember how empty the sky looked without anything flying.
I remember story upon story upon story of ordinary people doing extraordinary things.
I remember thinking that someday I would be teaching my kids about this day and how very odd that seemed.
I remember feeling angry, and sad, and confused, and scared.
I remember standing at ground zero, 9 years and 9 months after that day and still not being able to really comprehend what had happened, and just how enormous the buildings had been, and how difficult the cleanup efforts were.
I remember it like it just happened, and I imagine I always will...