In college, off-campus housing, sleeping (it was very early on the west coast). My roommate woke me up and told me we were being attacked. We sat their shocked and just watched the TV all day. Stunning. Chilling. Sadness is a feeling mentioned a lot, as well it should be, but I was even more pissed that these evil, hate-filed psychopaths were ruining/killing the lives of innocent people who have nothing to do with their bullshit jihad. I'm pissed just thinking about it.
**Also, I take this opportunity every year to teach my Catholic School students about the evils of HATE, and what cowards do to solve their 'problems'. I also paint a pretty vivid picture of what all the firefighters, policemen, and even 'regular' people went through that day. They're so young (5th grade), that they are shocked by the stories I tell/show. One of my favorite 'teaching moments' every year, because you can really see the shock in their faces, and the sadness/wonderment in their faces (as if, why on the hell would anybody do that to other people?). I never get more questions asked in a lesson than I do my 9/11 lesson.
God bless all those heroes who stepped up to the plate that day. We cannot honor them enough...