My mother was stuck in Mexico, having been scheduled to fly back later on the day of the attacks. My father’s girlfriend Sharon was actually in the air, coming back from Germany, and got diverted to Canada. Dad later drove to Detroit to get her.
I wasn’t sure the next day whether to go to work. Whether the office was open. Whether the city was open. And we were all pretty keyed up for like a whole month after that, where any emergency vehicle siren was upsetting, where guys were stationed on every street corner on top of Humvees and holding machine guns. National Airport didn’t open for more than a month.
I remember rallying behind President Bush. Heck, we all did. And Le Monde saying, Nous sommes tous Américains, remember? Where did that go?
I didn’t especially relish the idea of invading Afghanistan, but I didn’t especially oppose it either. I mean, the President certainly gave the Taliban every opportunity to give up Bin Laden. (Although I suppose that Bin Laden pretty muched owned the Taliban, so it’s not like they very much could do anything. But live by the sword, you know?)