can't, won't

Thirteen years ago, I was fighting the typical morning traffic to get to work, running a few minutes behind on I35, when I heard Bob Cole on the radio morning show announce that a plane had hit the World Trade Center in New York City. ... In that moment, the event was 'Probably an accident, a terrible one...big fire, more details to follow.' But a few moments later, as I parked my truck in front of the office, Bob announced that another commercial airliner had struck the second WTC tower.

It didn't really sink in at the time, what he was talking about. Admittedly, I was young and ignorant - I didn't even know exactly which buildings the 'World Trade Center Towers' were (I had referred to them as the Twin Towers) - and honestly, I was more stressed about being 5 minutes late to my desk. Still, as I killed the engine and cut off the radio, something in the tone of Bob's voice, which was normally calm and reassuring, had unsettled me. It wasn't an 'accident' anymore.

Sneaking into the office was easy. Everyone was already gathered around the 12" TV in the boss' office. It was set up high and rather precariously on a tall black filing cabinet, so despite the crowd in the tiny room, I easily caught my first glimpse - live - of the burning towers.

It's an odd sensation; awakening.

I can't forget. I won't forgive.