NOW, WHERE WAS I: Two years ago this day I was at work here in Prague and in a meeting that lasted from 2 to just after 3 p.m. local time. That corresponds to 8 and 9 a.m. in New York. The first plane flew into the first tower at about 8:46 a.m., I believe. When I walked out of the meeting room, I noticed that everyone in my area had grouped around someone's monitor. I heard, "Steve, come here, now!" and pretended not to hear it as I sat down at my own keyboard to check the messages.

I started to hear things like, "it's incredible" "what was it?" "they say it might have been a small plane off course" "Jesus, look at it burning!" I heard something about the World Trade Center. Now I was listening. I tried to open CNN's website and it was gone. I walked over to where everyone was, peered in closer and had my first view of the burning towers, live and in color via the web.

Like many people I've tried to imagine from time to time just what it must have felt like to have been on one of those planes, or what it might have felt like to be stuck and looking out from inside one of those towers.

Reading this story (link via several places) might be one way to perform a small act of remembrance or commemoration, if one was so inclined.
For more than an hour and a half, they streamed from the building, one after another, consecutively rather than en masse, as if each individual required the sight of another individual jumping before mustering the courage to jump himself or herself. One photograph, taken at a distance, shows people jumping in perfect sequence, like parachutists, forming an arc composed of three plummeting people, evenly spaced. Indeed, there were reports that some tried parachuting, before the force generated by their fall ripped the drapes, the tablecloths, the desperately gathered fabric, from their hands.

Steve | 18:34 |