I sat on my couch, twenty years old, laughing at a rerun and eating a snack. My morning class at the University of Southern Indiana was complete and I would soon return.
The news interrupted the show with images of the first plane strike, and then, we as a nation watched live and in disbelief as the second plane struck the second tower.
I drove numbly back to school, not understanding what I had just witnessed, and trudged into Psychology. The room was eerily quiet as the professor, unaware, taught her lesson. Afterward, the University closed for several days to allow us time to process what had happened to our nation.
On every street, in every church, and on almost every corner, strangers gathered for prayer.
Where were you when the world stopped turning?