We were getting our daughter ready to deliver to first grade when Grandma called and told us to turn on the television.  Some time later, our boss called — we worked in a tall building in downtown LA, and he told us no one was going to work today, stay home.  Just as well — we spent the day glued to the television, and when we couldn’t take it any more, played minor-key improvisations on the guitar until we could go back to the television again.  We had two brothers who lived in Manhattan, and couldn’t reach them — they spent the afternoon on the roof of their apartment staring in horror, and listening to the military planes that took over the airspace after the collapse.  Then they realized they should probably tell people they were OK.

What happened to you? What’s changed?  Comments are open.