My 9/11
My 9/11
in the fall of 2001, I was working as a Nuclear Medicine Technologist at the VA Hospital in Houston. The TV in the patient waiting room was always on. I came in to get a patient when someone said, "Hey Doc, . . .you gotta see this." (I am not a doctor.). The first plane had just struck.
We all assumed that a tragic accident had happened. Someone mentioned that a bomber had crashed into the Empire State Building at one time. I came back into the waiting area about fifteen minutes later to get another patient and the second plane hit. Some old veteran there said, "Well we're at war with somebody now."
As the morning unfolded (the Pentagon, Flight 93, the collapsing towers) there was a palpable sense of frustrated anger. One patient there that day was a WW-II era Army Ranger. I will always remember his stifled anger and the silent tear; remembering the young man he once was and wishing he could rise from his wheelchair to again be the fierce warrior who had assaulted the cliffs of Pont du Hoc at dawn on D-Day.
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