I was at home, sleeping in a bit because I'd worked late the night before. I remember exactly what my dad said when he woke me up- "There's been a major terrorist attack on the World Trade Center and 10,000 people are probably dead." I shot out of bed, turned the T.V. to CNN, and watched as the second plane hit (or the first of many replays- I don't remember the time). When the Pentagon was hit, I started freaking out, because my brother-in-law worked in D.C., and who knew what else was a target? I spent the rest of the day either at church or driving around with my sister, trying to get to my nephew, whose school had been evacuated.
Today, on the tenth annivesary, I'm spending the morning at church. The bell choir is ringing a special piece written in memory of the victims at all three services.