Where were you?

It’s funny how you may think back to moments of your life with such clarity and to so much detail. There are some times I remember me in the moment, whether it was 2 minutes ago, 2 days, 2 years and even 2 decades. I remember my point of view of incidents, the movements made and the looks on people’s faces around me. Often times I wonder when huge historical events happen in this world, where was I? Me. This quiet little kitten-monkey. Some memories are tiny moments like remembering what I saw when I looked at the TV screen as the Berlin Wall fell. Other memories are like scripted detailed dream journals…These are some of them.

August 30-31, 1997
The Death of a Princess
I was sitting on the floor of the living room on a Saturday night watching Saturday Night Live. The host was Rob Lowe with musical guest The Spice Girls. This is obviously before our big screen television days and the TV was not in the corner yet but up against the wall by the dining room entrance. Like most nights in our house, Mom was in the kitchen, though late at night, preparing food and cleaning up. Then, I believe it was during the Weekend Update, there was a real “Breaking News Bulletin” of Princess Diana, a notable target of the paparazzi, in a terrible car accident and that her condition was critical. My brother Eric, who was sharing one last summer with us before moving to Oakville, was eating something when he entered the living room. He was the first person I saw after having staring at the television at the graphically disturbing footage of the princess’ wreckage. I told him. His eyes popped in shock with his usual “really…” as though I told him a piece of gossip. That was his reaction to any news – still is. She was pronounced dead hours later.

September 11, 2001
9/11
Summer had ended and I entered my first year of college. After a full year working at McDonald’s day in day out, it was refreshing to be back in school. Classes had started the week prior (midway through the week) so this was my first class of Basic Communications. It was a Tuesday. It was a boiler of a summer so I took refuge sleeping in the spare bedroom in the basement that was once occupied by my brother Ben. It was much cooler and darker at night and provided a comfortable rest. Nine o’clock in the morning the clock radio starts up and I hear words. I’m awake, lying on my front with my eyes open pretending to be closed when I start piecing those words together – plane, crash, New York, Pentagon, World Trade Centre. At first I think they were words pulled from a dream kind of like reverse talking in your sleep. But I am awake and listen with more attention.

I finally pull myself out of bed and go upstairs. My Mom so kindly offered to drive me to school the previous night. She is in her room cleaning out a drawer or purse when I ask if she’s heard what’s happened. She says no then I tell her “apparently” such and such has happened. She of course doesn’t hesitate to turn to CNN and there it is laying out for us in full detail. The camera fixated on the smoking wound of one of the Two Towers as me and my Mom watched with one hand over a gasping mouth with the occasional “oh my God” escaping her lips. This isn’t real.

She kept the TV on loud as she had some things to do before we left. Despite having class to attend, I kept on watching. A second plane is shown crashing into the other tower as I call out to my Mother who rushes from the kitchen back to her room to watch on. This isn’t real.

I finally pull it together to go to school. We drive with the radio on and my Mom speculating. When I arrive to class, the room is almost empty. We later learn that there are two classrooms with the same number hence the mix up. But as a select few of us sit in patient silence, still not knowing each other very well, someone brings up the attack. This starts a discussion among us like school yard gossip or a “what did you do this weekend” talk. We decided to go to the cafeteria as no doubt people would be there glued to the televisions. The day at school was short as the rest of it was doing just that. Sitting and watching CNN intently. When I went home that day, that’s all I did until at 2am. I remember staying up with Janet watching the news, until I fell asleep on the couch.

April 2, 2005
Pope John Paul II dies
I skipped down the stairs of my Toronto apartment and Julie says "Pope’s dead."

And that is where I was.