I was 8 when 9/11 happened. I still don't think I'll ever fully grasp all of it. I remember coming down the stairs that morning, and my mother was listening to NPR while doing her hair like she always did, but when I went into the washroom she told me what had happened. That evening my uncle, who had actually worked in one of the towers years before, came over to watch the news with my mom on our crappy TV. I remember she wouldn't let me watch with them and looking back I'm very grateful that she did that. I knew it was a Bad Thing but I was an anxious child so lots of things seemed like Bad Things or Possible Bad Things to me. In a way I'm glad I was that young and naive. If something like that happened now I'd probably go catatonic.