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09-10-2006, 02:55 AM
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Join Date: Jan 2004
Location: Moulinsart
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I was a my parent's house and I didn't even owned a computer back then. I was sleeping in the empty bedroom upstairs because I could hear a mouse scratch the wall of my own room downstairs. I was still sleeping when the planes hit. My mom got home at 9:30ish and woke me up saying that planes were crashing into buildings in the US. Like a good 21 years old I told her that she was crazy and went back to sleep.

Ten or fifteen minutes later the phone rang and my mom threw it on me since it was one of my friend calling telling me that terrorists had attack the US with commercial planes. Now this was a reliable source! More gore than just simple accidents! That woke me up for real!

I turned on the tv and was flabbergasted. I kept talking to my friend on the phone and we were both saying that we always talked about how easy it would be to do something like this. Of course our conversations were pot induced fantasy, this was live people dying on tv.

I had the images of people jumping from the WTC high floors to their death while I took a shower and prepared for class. I drove to Montréal (was living close to the border between the US and Ontario at the time) and entered the classroom late. I hated that teacher. Always asking us if he was boring, always questionning himself, too sensible. On that day he wasn't. My entrance did nothing to interrupt his rant. He talked for the entire class about the atrocities commited earlier that day. Almost crying, but of pure rage and sadness. He was great.

I remember walking in the basements at UQAM where there's tv screens on the ceiling. Douzens of students were holding a constant vigile, watching RDI and learning more about the day's events. On any other day, mockery of some aspects of american life were common and praises about our neighbors were less common. Not on that day, on that day, we were all Americans. As cheesy as it sounds it was the truth.

I went outside later and walked down Ste-Catherine street. Everybody was looking up. Everybody was quiet and nervous. Special editions of La Presse and The Gazette were distributed for free already showing pictures of the falling towers and talking about Bin Laden's group as a possible assailant. I still have those.

My class later that day was cancelled. We learned the week after that our teacher's wife's friend was a crew member for American Airlines and was killed. Small world.

As I said, on that day we were all Americans. Our freindly neighbors had the sympathy of the world. China was forgetting all about that little US spy plane who fell into their hands. We were united. But Dubya had to go and fukc it all up.

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