That Tuesday was my first day back at the magazine after Dad died. (If you remember, Dad died on the Thursday before Labor Day 2001, so Labor Day wasn't counted toward my "week of mourning.") Mother and I had just started not speaking to each other -- Cousin the Rich One said she was convinced I would steal money from Mother any chance I got, and naturally I didn't take to Mother buying into it -- but I'd had a really nice weekend, all things considered, first at EWK's birthday blowout ("Everything tastes better with adobo!") and then with TOG, lying around his apartment watching the top 100 heavy metal videos of VH1 and Shawshank Redemption (one of Dad's and my favorite movies) and feeding each other Hershey Kisses and Kraft singles. So about 9:30-ish a.m. I'm cruising along the Outer Drive (LSD, for those not familiar with the layout of Chicago) and coming up on Ol' St. Mike's on the South Side when I decide I was tired of sitting in my own dead solitude and turned on the radio. The Staples Singers' "I'll Take You There" was on 'XRT -- not unusual since that's the kind of stuff 'XRT plays, but then morning DJ Terri Hemmert gets on after the song and says, "You know, that's the kind of music we need in these troubled times."

Troubled times? What, did (Chicago Mayor Richard) Daley get shot? I thought to myself, because I hadn't heard what happened at that point.

I started going through my channel rotation to see if I could find out what the hell happened, and once I hit 'TMX, the station's newsguy, who also happens to be my former boss' older brother, leveled the news: Two planes have crashed into the World Trade Center, at which point I burst into tears for a split second. And then he started talking about how all the major cities were evacuating, including Chicago, which I was, like, shit! What am I heading into? I hope I have notepad.

The first thing I did was try to call work's H.R. person, but I got her voicemail, so then I tried calling my boss in her office and then at home. Got her voicemail both times, but then just as I arrived at the building -- which did I mention is right across the street from the Sears Tower!?! -- the boss calls back: "Go home." We talked a few minutes, and then I called Kaffy to see if she needed me to come get her, as she worked further north than I did. She said no, that because they aren't downtown at all, they weren't evacuating (or some such nonsense -- she can remind me differently if I'm wrong). So we talked a few minutes as I zipped through an almost totally abandoned city. I mean, I've seen Chicago on the weekend when it's quiet, but at 10 a.m. on a Tuesday? Kinda surreal.

The expressways, on the other hand, weren't abandoned at all; what should've took me a half hour to get back to Indiana took me an hour and a 1/2 since everyone and their cousin was getting the hell out of dodge. In that time, I called the paper to see if it wanted me to stay for anything downtown, TOG to let him know I was on my way home and that wow! do you believe this shit? and Crazy Aunt, who I hadn't talked to since the night Dad died, but she called to see if I was all right and at home.

The rest of the day I spent intermittently on the phone with everyone while, like the rest of America, hanging on to Peter Jennings' every word.

Later that night, Greta came across the hall with a bottle of watermelon schnapps and shot glasses, and we proceeded to watch the horror over and over and over again. Then TOG called, and we watched the horror over and over and over again until about 3:30 in the morning.