I was living in Santa Barbara, CA and had just flown flown from Logan (Boston) to LAX the day before. I’d spent the week solo in Boston with Linux Journal, manning our booth at the Embedded Systems Conference. That Monday morning I was leaving my boyfriend’s house to drive back to my apartment when I got into my car and heard that weird sound of dead air on the radio (it was a live feed, but no one was talking at that exact moment). I changed the station and more of the same, but also people talking in these strange hushed tones and it was obvious that something was wrong. I heard bits and pieces about New York, Washington DC, planes, and people dead. It was difficult to piece together, so I turned on my cellphone and I had four voicemails, which was strange. The first one was my Mom crying, saying she couldn’t believe I was on a flight from Boston to LAX just the day before and that she loved me. The next few messages were similar calls from friends and family. I sped home, turned on the TV, and spent the whole day glued to it.

I’ll always remember standing out on my deck that night and everything seeming so quiet with no airplanes in the sky.

As the whole world lost some as well. What a sad sad day.

ALways remember. Always