If any of you readers would like to describe what you were doing on 9/11/2001, the day of the terrorist attacks, please feel free to do so in the comments.
I was in my private practice office at GBMC seeing my first patient of the day. A very healthy, but very anxious older man with frequent physical complaints. Very nice guy. We were just finishing a therapy session (~8:50am) and I sent him out and was writing my note. My office was in a hospital office building in a suite run by a primary care physician, so there were also several exam rooms, a large front office with a receptionist and two office staff, and a waiting room with maybe a dozen chairs.
The first plane hit at 8:46 am ET (detailed timeline here on Wikipedia).

She was my last patient of the day. Everyone else cancelled. If they hadn't, I would have. The day was filled with fear, uncertainty, and doubt. But there was a camaraderie. We all grew closer with this common experience. The images, burned into our collective brains.
The one peaceful image that equally burned into my brain: for four days I gazed for long periods at the sky in amazed wonder. Not a single plane. Not a single jet entrail drifting across the sky. "This must be what the sky looks like in Wyoming," I recall thinking. Beautiful! I'm tearing up just thinking about it now. I've still never made it to Wyoming. But I will never forget.
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