20 Years Later...

I was in 3rd Grade, so my memories might be a little jumbled and confused. I do remember looking at the Gazette in Mrs. Zirtzman's class and talking about it. I have another memory of one of the neighborhood kids crying, because her Mom worked at Jessup Hall and nobody knew where she was. I don't remember it being particularly cold that day either.

I remember going to college in 2001 and walking past Van Allen Hall that November and seeing the wreath of flowers by the Lecture Hall and wondering if any of the scores of students walking by knew exactly what the flowers were for. People come and go- faculty move on, staff retire, students graduate, but even now, two decades later, there are still people who remember. There are still people who know.

I wish I had something more profound to say than this, I really do. It feels like something should be said, like the moment deserves a little more. But we live in a world increasingly desensitized to violence- and from that cold November day when I was in 3rd Grade, there seemed to be a non-stop parade of violence that last throughout my youth and beyond. My generation went to high school with Columbine hanging above our heads. And that, more than anything that happened on September 11th, I've come to be convinced defined my generation more than anything else.

Working the job I work, I've become keenly aware of days like this. Moments where tension stretches like a rubber band and you can tell that people out there are nervous. I'll be honest: I really don't want to be at work today- I love day shift hours, I really do- I love the challenges of my job, the way it pushes me each and every single day and how every day is different. I love the creative problem solving and genuinely doing my best to make sure everybody I talk to has a good experience and walks away feeling like they've just spoken to a professional.

But this isn't evening or night shift. We don't get a lot of arrests. There's not the high-pumping, slamming type of shifts which go by in the blink of an eye. There's a tradeoff: the phone could ring at any time and all hell could break loose. Not just the regular kind- actual, life or death type of situations. And you've got to be ready...

I don't put much stock in superstition and I think few, if any will really remember the day- most will probably read about it in the Daily Iowan sometime today. But there's just something about days like today...

I really wish I wasn't at work today.