Nine years ago. 

Dwayne and I were married in Las Vegas on September 8, 2001.  We flew home September 9th, knowing that we had to survive four days of work and then we'd be heading to Arizona for our week-long honeymoon on Friday the 14th.

On September 11th, I was driving to work, listening to The Morning End, which was a radio show comprised of Andy Savage, Jody, and Steve the Producer.  As I was making the turn at my building, someone on-air announced, "They're saying that someone crashed a plane into one of the Twin Towers."

The DJs were confused.  I think one of them even said, "How does that happen?  How does a pilot get so off-track that they fly into a huge building like that?"

I was wondering the same thing.  Was s/he drunk or something?  As I was parking my car, someone on the radio said, "Wait!  Now they're saying that a second plane has crashed into the other tower!"

And that's when they (and I) knew that this was not accidental.

All I remember of the rest of the day was that there was a tiny black and white TV in one of the back offices and we all kept going back there to check the news.  There was a lot of worry and confusion.  Schools were closing.  The malls were closing. Seattle is on the opposite coast, but everyone was in a panic because no one knew what sort of attacks might be planned for the rest of the country.

As it turned out, Dwayne's and my flight to Arizona was canceled and rescheduled for Saturday instead.  We didn't know if we should go.  But we also didn't know how we couldn't.  So we did. 

Getting married was a big step and a big change for us.  And three days after our wedding, the whole world changed . . . in a multitude of ways.

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