I don't remember Challenger that well. I was in the seventh grade--I vaguely recall walking into Science class, and someone told me that Challenger had exploded, and I indignantly denied it, not believing their joke. Challenger didn't really affect me, despite my affection for the Space program. My remembrances of childhood are most often sterile and emotionless.
When the towers fell, I remember significantly more emotion. I was working for a news portal at the time, so I spent much of the day making sure our news feeds were up and running correctly. That night, I would go to sleep fitful yet exhausted, and I would wake up with the pleading and fallen optimism that maybe the last day was all a dream.
That's how I felt today, reading the various headlines on Slashdot
. Clicking on the links, I quickly read the stories. Then, out of a strange place in my mind, I put the computer away and read a book, hoping that which I had just read was a dream, trying to exert the sheer force of my will
to turn time backwards so everyone can somehow escape this tragedy.Current Mood: