It was the worst of times for the second time

It was the worst of times for the second time Due to human failings it wouldn't be the last time.
HOUSTON - Sept. 12, 2021 - PRLog -- My phone rang at 7:46 a.m. (CDT). I was on my way to work when my mother called me; something she rarely did. I knew there was a problem. I answered the phone with "What's wrong, mother?"

She replied, "A plane just it the World Trade Center in New York City!"

I asked what kind of plane. I surmised the pilot had a mechanical malfunction, or worse, committed suicide. She said no, it was a large jet. I had a difficult time rationalizing that. I was dating a commercial airline pilot and knew it was engrained in their DNA to minimize the collateral damage if there was a catastrophic failure with the plane. So what just happened? Was it a suicide? That meant one of the two pilots in the cockpit had to have been incapacitated.

My mom provided a running commentary until I arrived at work. I rushed to the office of the engineer whose office was adjacent to mine. He was the only one I knew who had a TV in his office. As I was about to disconnect from the call, I heard my mother shout "Oh my God! Another jet hit the building next to the one on fire!"

I replied, "Mom, it's a terrorist attack! I just arrived at the office, let me get to a TV and I'll call you back soon."

As I approached the office with the TV, the small 10x10 room was filled to capacity. At just 5 feet, everyone was taller than me. I was standing on my tip toes in high heels, and still couldn't see the small TV set. When my co-workers realized I was behind them, they parted like the Red Sea. We watched in silence for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality it was approximately an hour and a half because at 9:28 a.m. Central Time (10:28 a.m. EDT), WTC 1...the North Tower, collapsed.

There were no screams. The workforce was predominantly male at the high-technology manufacturing company where I worked. The small office was crammed with men with the exception of myself, they tend to not scream. Neither did I. The first words uttered, came out of my mouth.

I said "Where the hell was the CIA and the FBI?"

Everyone turned to look at me. The look on their faces changed from horror to pensive; they internally asked themselves the same question. It wasn't the first time the United States was attacked on its own soil, nor would it be the last. It was the worst of times... for the second time. Twenty years later, January 6, 2021, it would happen a third time.
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