Chapter 9: Striking home

When the buildings were struck, I got angry. When I heard Pittsburgh had a crash in it, I got scared for my friends. But when my dad told me that his good friend in college was the pilot of flight 175, the 2nd tower’s plane, it hit me. It was too much, it connected. I retreated to my room, high on caffeine, and turned on Outkast’s “Bombs Over Baghdad” as loud as I could, and just stood there in a daze. My friend Erin J. came to the door and dragged me to a religious service special for the occasion. A combination of a long walk, and Erin keeping my attention up, and the service from a variety of religions pulled me out of any mood I was on the verge of falling into. Thank you Erin.

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