Five years ago, it was a Tuesday morning. I was teaching a multiservice class at an Air Force training base. I wrote on the wyteboard a random piece of trivia (today is "no news is good news day"). We got off to a good set of training - we actually were ahead of schedule. I'd made the decision, earlier in the day, to have a little treat for the class. I sent one of my students - a Petty Officer - to go get burritos from the corner market. She came back, and we all went out to the pavilion to enjoy the very nice day. Nice conversations, a good, relaxed atmosphere, which is a welcome relief to students in training status.
We go back in and I see a throng of students and instructors around the television, and I see a building on fire. Unsure what was going on, I asked a few people, and I heard a plane flew into the building, which was one of the towers on the World Trade Center. I quickly shuffled my students back to their classroom and instructed them that they had a job to do. If anything significant arose, I'd inform them when they had time to hear. I then started them on another assignment, and went towards the breakroom for a moment, to get a little more info. That's when I saw the second plane fly into the building. The rest of the day is vivid, but too much to rehash on this blog at this time.
I'm not really good at tributes. I will leave this as my memory from that day, as I'm sure most of you have yours.