As we approach the 10-year anniversary of 9/11/01, everyone is telling their story of where they were, who they were with and what they went through that day. It’s something I’ve reflected on in the past, but with the round number anniversary, I feel compelled to share my day as well. I wasn’t there, I didn’t lose anyone and nothing happened to me. But at the same time, like many people that day, my whole world changed.
In September 2001, I was 20 years old and I had just moved into my first “real” apartment in Santa Monica, CA. I was still looking for a part-time job, having made the decision to permanently relocate to Los Angeles from DC after concluding my summer internship at The Late Late Show with Craig Kilborn. And I was taking 12 units at Santa Monica College, scheduling my classes for Monday, Wednesday, Friday, so I would have two whole days to work as well as Wednesday and Friday afternoons. I was primarily hanging out with my friend KB (name changed for use on the Internet), who was working at hotel in Beverly Hills. We had met at Kilborn and we were both looking for that next entertainment job.
On September 9th, he returned from a week-long trip to New York, job hunting, and we both experienced our first California earthquake. On September 10th, I spent the day in classes and KB worked the day shift at the hotel. On Tuesday, September 11th, I didn’t have class and I didn’t have a job yet, so I had planned to sleep in before tackling some homework and looking for more jobs to apply for.
Around 6am, my house phone rang. I muttered about the phone waking me up on a day I could sleep in, especially when the caller ID said “Unknown Caller.” It was my dad, calling from his business trip in the Dominican Republic, and he sounded like he had been crying. Continue reading