Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource September 11 Digital Archive Stories Description An account of the resource This collection is the bulk of the archive, representing the reactions and experiences of thousands of individuals beginning in 2002. 911DA Story 911DA Story: Story Tell us about what you did, saw, or heard on September 11th. Feel free to write as much or as little as you like. Tell us your story: A short story! I sat down and wrote what I was feeling as I watched the tragedy unfold. Teusday, September 11, 2001 I opened my eyes. Despite the sun, shining through the window, I was immediately reminded of how unlucky I was. How everything in my life was a total mess. I was reminded, that in spite of the beauty of the day, I was in darkness. The injustices of the modern world rolled around in my head. On a day that should have been celebrated, I chose to be sad. I chose to be a victim, to waller in my own self pity. I made my way to the kitchen to start the morning coffee; the drink that would nourish my frayed nerves, and get me through another miserable morning. Still drowsy, I picked up the tv remote, and fell back onto the bed, intending to find escape from the bitter thoughts that continued to surface in my head. As the darkness of the screen turned to scrambled colors, and then began to come into focus, I strained through my drowsiness, to make sense of what I was seeing! As the smoke began to pour from the object of my attention, I wondered. What middle-eastern capitol had suffered another terrorist attack? Must be Bagdad. Pakistan? As I became oriented to the events of the day, I realized that this was not some third world country. It wasn't Beruit, Ireland, or Pakistan. It was here, in the land of the free! There, in the confines of my safe place, through eyes that were, now, as clear as glass, I was awakened from my selfish stupor. For, there, before me, was the worst of nightmares. All the fury of hell, unleashed, right there before me. I knew the place. The twin towers that were the World Trade Center. New York, New York. There was a gaping hole in one of the towers. I watched in disbelief, as the smoke and debris poured from the damaged structure. An announcer was saying that a boeing 767 , had crashed into the building. In the back ground, I heard the screams of sirens. The camera focused on the the top of the buiding, just in time for me to see what appeared to be a person, jump from the firey hell. My pulse quickened. Beads of sweat formed on my forehead and began to make their way down my face. As my trembling fingers fumbled for the drink that would dissolve the lump in my throat, a tear fell. I watched it as it splattered on the morning paper,smearing the ink, as if to wash away the words that were important, only moments ago. Another tear fell, and then another. Once again, my vision was clouded. Not because of selfishness or apathy, but, this time, from the flood of tears that could not wash away the images, that by now, had played over and over in my mind. There I remained, unable to move. I watched in horror as another airplane came into view on my tv screen, travelling from right to left, taking aim, and, plowing into the second building. Once again bending steel, shattering glass, and destroying everything in it's path. Momentarily, I heard screams, and gasps. As the the camera panned the crowd below, I saw the look of shock and disbelief on the many faces that looked upward. Others ran for their lives, thru the ash and soot, not knowing where they were going. Confused and choking, they ran. Still others, ran straight into the hell, hoping to save someone, anyone! Soon, one building began to cave in on itself, one floor smashing into the one below it, until all that was left was fire, smoke, and the screams of the dying. The other building followed. It was now, as dark as night. Angels wept, as the many rescuers, who had saved so many lives, gave theirs. They wept as passengers on flight 93, shortened their lives, to spare the lives of the many, would be victims of target number four.They wept as people jumped to their deaths, hand in hand, to escape fire and smoke. They wept as the pentagon was struck, and erupted in fire, killing many more. And then God smiled down upon us. For we prayed. United we stood, hand in hand, and prayed. There were no selfish prayers that day. Prayers were for our fallen brothers and sisters. On that day, September 11, 2001, we showed our true colors; Red, White, and Blue! Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource story1483.xml 911DA Item Elements describing a September 11 Digital Archive item. Status The process status of this item. approved Consent Whether September 11 Digital Archive has permission to possess this item. full Posting Whether the contributor gave permission to post this item. yes Copyright Whether the contributor holds copyright to this item. yes Source The source of this item. born-digital Media Type The media type of this item. story Created by Author Whether the author created this item. yes Described by Author Whether the description of this item was submitted by the author. no Date Entered The date this item was entered into the archive. 2002-08-26 IP Address The IP address of the device used to submit the item. 152.163.189.136