I was in Dallas, at my company’s training center when it happened. The students were straggling in from the hotel next door while we got them set up with nametags and computers and generally squared away for class, when one of them said she’d seen something on TV about a plane hitting the World Trade Center. I had this weird moment of deja vu and flashed on an old story of an Army transport plane hitting the Empire State Building back in WWII, but it somehow seemed current, and then I laughed it off and continued setting up the computer I was working on.

We started the class, going around the room for introductions, talking about what we were going to cover, students talking about what they hoped to learn, etc. Just another class beginning.

The way the training room was set up, the person actually training was at the front of the room while the rest of us were at the back, behind the students, “roaming” to help people who needed assistance. In the first hour of class, one of the other training center staff members came in and quietly told the roamers what was happening in New York, in Washington. Nobody knew the full story yet; it was all disjointed and confusing and unconfirmed.

At the first break we announced to the class what we knew and took an extended break so people could make phone calls and get information and direct activity back at their home sites and … well, whatever they needed to do. We still didn’t know the full impact of what was happening — didn’t know that it was still happening — so we called the class back to order and continued.

Nobody could focus; we were all wondering what was going on, we were all scared. As we continued we roamers worked the internet at the back of the class, gathering any information we could get, and we gave the class frequent updates. It soon became clear that this was not just an accident, not just a freak occurrence; it became clear that this was the worst thing we had ever seen. It became clear that we had to end the class.

So we did — we just stopped. We released the class, told them they were free to go back to their hotel rooms to watch the news and call family and do whatever. We’d try to make arrangements for people to get back home if they needed to. We’d do what we could for them.

And then all of us trainers gathered in the biggest hotel room among us and watched TV all day.

Ever since then, when I’m out on the road the very first thing I do when I get up in the morning is turn on the TV, tune in CNN. I’m always afraid I’m going to see bad news about Los Angeles, and I never quite trust it when I don’t. I’m always sure the bad news is going to start the instant after I turn the TV off.

I still remember the horror of that day. I feel it, I have not forgotten. I will never forget. And to those who scold me to remember, who feel they need to remind me, who suggest I have forgotten because I don’t think Bush is doing it right, I say this:

Fuck you. I remember. Always.