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This woke me up this morning.
I was attending a class or meeting of some sort in a meeting room at a long narrow park at the top of a gentle slope. The wall we were facing was all glass, so we could see the full length of the park and the neighborhood that stretched beyond. Bordering one side of the park was a neighborhood. The back fences of the houses provided the park border. A chain-link fence ran along the edge of the park protecting the kids from falling into a canal or creek on the other. The sun was out, the sky was blue. It was a glorious day. There were children playing outside, watched by loving parents. During a break from a meeting I noticed a beautiful little girl of age 3 or 4 sitting alone, playing with a stick in a tiny mud puddle. I tried to talk to her but she was off in her own world. Her dad appeared and smiled at me. It was time to go back in.
I don't remember what the class or meeting was about, but it was something serious. As time neared for us all to go home, a small plane buzzed the building causing all of us to cover our ears. It crashed into the neighborhood beyond the park and a fireball erupted. We were horrified. Before we could even start for the door to see what we could do to help, an airliner did the same thing, almost taking the roof off. I looked up and saw glass skylights filled with the belly of the plane. It was so close I could see the individual bolts on the panels. We dropped to the floor in terror, plugging our ears against the incredible roar of the jet engines. It also crashed in the neighborhood beyond the park sending up an enormous fireball. We all ran out of the building. I stopped to see if the little girl was all right. Her dad said she was in shock but would be OK. To me she looked exactly the same. Calm and quiet playing in the mud puddle with the stick. Competely involved in her own world. I wondered if she was autistic.
Then I ran to the end of the park. We were prevented from going farther by a fence, but we could see past it. All I could see was one house completely destroyed. That must have been where the small plane had crashed. Whatever fire had been there was out. No airplane parts were visible. It just looked like a burned out shell of a house. I couldn't see where the airliner had crashed. We all concluded that it must have gone further than we thought.
Then it occurred to all of us at once that two planes doing the exact destructive thing moments apart was an indication of a terrorist attack. As the dread realization bloomed in my heart, I woke up.
I was attending a class or meeting of some sort in a meeting room at a long narrow park at the top of a gentle slope. The wall we were facing was all glass, so we could see the full length of the park and the neighborhood that stretched beyond. Bordering one side of the park was a neighborhood. The back fences of the houses provided the park border. A chain-link fence ran along the edge of the park protecting the kids from falling into a canal or creek on the other. The sun was out, the sky was blue. It was a glorious day. There were children playing outside, watched by loving parents. During a break from a meeting I noticed a beautiful little girl of age 3 or 4 sitting alone, playing with a stick in a tiny mud puddle. I tried to talk to her but she was off in her own world. Her dad appeared and smiled at me. It was time to go back in.
I don't remember what the class or meeting was about, but it was something serious. As time neared for us all to go home, a small plane buzzed the building causing all of us to cover our ears. It crashed into the neighborhood beyond the park and a fireball erupted. We were horrified. Before we could even start for the door to see what we could do to help, an airliner did the same thing, almost taking the roof off. I looked up and saw glass skylights filled with the belly of the plane. It was so close I could see the individual bolts on the panels. We dropped to the floor in terror, plugging our ears against the incredible roar of the jet engines. It also crashed in the neighborhood beyond the park sending up an enormous fireball. We all ran out of the building. I stopped to see if the little girl was all right. Her dad said she was in shock but would be OK. To me she looked exactly the same. Calm and quiet playing in the mud puddle with the stick. Competely involved in her own world. I wondered if she was autistic.
Then I ran to the end of the park. We were prevented from going farther by a fence, but we could see past it. All I could see was one house completely destroyed. That must have been where the small plane had crashed. Whatever fire had been there was out. No airplane parts were visible. It just looked like a burned out shell of a house. I couldn't see where the airliner had crashed. We all concluded that it must have gone further than we thought.
Then it occurred to all of us at once that two planes doing the exact destructive thing moments apart was an indication of a terrorist attack. As the dread realization bloomed in my heart, I woke up.
