On the morning of the 11th, Michael and I were in Shreveport visiting family. It was early and we had just woken when we heard the phone ring downstairs. I paid little attention to the conversation which was going on beneath us but Michael suddenly stiffened and said 'oh my god'. He leapt out of bed (the quickest I have ever seen him get up) threw on shorts and a t-shirt and rushed downstairs. I had no idea what was going on but obviously something was up and I grabbed a robe and joined him, thinking something had happened within the family. There he, his Mother and Huey sat in front of the TV., the focus was the World Trade Centre. I still had no idea what was happening but it soon became evident that one of the towers was on fire. The presenters voices carried astonishment and panic, they were saying that the WTC had been hit by a plane and begun showing an assortment of footage as it came to hand. Then the second tower appeared to have been struck and it was apparent by then that this was not some pilot error or aircraft malfunction, this was a deliberate attack. We talked between ourselves but it was almost as if we were talking to ourselves in disbelief and watching some Hollywood movie. Our rational side trying to convince our irrational side that there is no way this could be happening, this was America! An unpenetrable nation. I can't even remember the commentary that was going on at the time, our eyes were just glued to their soaring, smoking towers. Through horrified voices we heard reports of people leaping from the top floors of the buildings, fortunately were not covering that. Suddenly, something seemed to be happening with one of the towers, the absolute unimaginable, the tower was collapsing. As if in slow motion, this building was collapsing within itself, like an image dissolving on a computer screen, layer by layer vanished, producing an assault of falling ash and debris all over Manhattan.

A mushroom of grey bilious haze levitated and began tumbling in a swift progression down the tunnel of streets and roads avenu-ing the square. Colourless ash clad figures were running like disorientated ants having no conception of what they were escaping from, no notion of where they were fleeing to. The skies were hailing debris far and wide, everything was like a giant flour sifter had been at work Nothing was distinguishable. Transfixed we sat, still in disbelief, still unable to comprehend what we were witnessing. It was moments, seconds, minutes who knows, before it dawned on us that those in that building, trying to escape had simply become a component of the ruins. Dust to dust in an unimaginable tomb. How was it possible that an edifice of this magnitude could be demolished in the blink of an eye. But then there was the other tower. Focus switched to that building, what was its fate, would it stand in defiance, be merciful to its tenants trying to flee to safety. Additional minutes passed, more commentary, more cross-overs to the immediate area where TV networks had managed to race reporters in to cover a variety of scenes. Who knows how long it took, we simply knew that while still transfixed on the disaster, we then were to witness the other tower dissolve with the same damaging fate. A retake of a movie script.

Somewhere in-between all these reports on the towers there was reports from Washington that a plane had also crash into the Pentagon. In what sequence this all happened, we didn't know. Every devastating report seemed to run back to back, intertwined and mangled just as New York's once tallest buildings had now been reduced to. America sat in hesitant expectation of revelations of the next target while it tried to digest already that which had scarred this nation forever. The fact that the Pentagon was also an accessible target most likely had more of an affect on the average American than it did on me, a non-American. After all this was the military nerve centre of the country. Following hot on the heels of that report news broke of another commercial flight which had gone down in a field in Pittsburg. It was also expected to have been on a mission - maybe towards the White House. It was later confirmed, as everyone had come to presume, that some heroic passengers on that ill-fated flight had somehow realised the planes fate, and subsequently theirs, and wrestled with the terrorists to bring the plane down short of its target, thus saving thousands of lives. Flashed on and off, were reports of car bombs going off around Washington although this later proved false.

The next hour or so was a blur, we watched and talked, the phone rang constantly from friends of Michaels Mum to tell them to turn the TV on. We had previously planned a trip down south that day for some sightseeing and finally decided to make an effort to shower, change and leave, albeit much later than we had intended. No sooner in the car, the radio was switched to a station which was covering the attack. Conversation was minimal as we listened, commenting only intermittently on something relevant that was occurring. As we drove through Bossier City close to the air force base, the radio reported that President Bush had just landed there. He had been in Florida addressing school children on education when the news was relayed to him. He swiftly explained his unscheduled departure to the children and had been whisked away on Air Force One to a reported 'unknown destination'. It was only now we were discovering that it was to Barksdale Air force Base (SAK strategic air command) where a large stash of B52's were stored. We continued heading south, avoiding the highway and interrupting the trip here and there to look at sights unfamiliar to me. All the while we were glued to the public service radio station that we had managed to find in the area. Various personal accounts and stories were starting to unfold as people were found and interviewed. Speculation was rife with the hope of some survivors being found. Fire fighters were pouring into the area with breathing apparatus and stations were being set up as command posts for all the volunteers.

We arrived in Natchitoches around lunchtime and after a quick stop at the nearest restroom, went in search of somewhere for lunch. All the while radio and TV coverage could be heard but generally people seemed to be continuing as normal or maybe it was life on auto pilot and in disbelief. The whole day was consumed by the shock of what we had witnessed that morning and overshadowed all the new wonderful things we were discovering both in Natchitoches and further south at the plantation we visited in Natchez. President Bush announced that the country was now on high-alert status. As we neared Shreveport on our return, we witnessed a car park with a blood bank vehicle parked surrounded by chairs with umbrellas and queues of locals waiting to offer blood donations. The call had gone out early on for blood donations and people were only too quick to answer, desperately wanting, needing almost, to contribute anything they could, feeling helpless and bewildered but focusing on a need of others. Into Shreveport itself, we witnessed a surprising panic. Petrol service stations were overflowing with cars and trucks, all in a panic, all with an insight into petrol rationing and sky rocketing prices. It was astonishing to see this happening and station owners were taking advantage of this panic by inflating prices. We decided not to join the mass and continued home. The TV of course, was on all night and we were engrossed, discussing what had transpired during the day. Our brief escape into normalcy over and we were back focused on the tragic events. The country had been put on extreme alert. All airports had been closed, the skies were devoid of any aircraft other than military. High risk buildings and monuments had been closed, major public areas such as Disneyland and other theme parks had been closed. Everywhere was buckled and bolted - closed until further notice. There had been a train crash in Marshall (just next door in Texas) where a freight train and Amtrak train had collided. No casualties fortunately and it seemed, not related to the terrorists. I managed to get an email off to family and friends advising them we were ok and not at home at that time. The response from my email and the news was amazing. All around the world there had been saturation coverage - the world it seemed was in shock as well.

The following day we had planned to leave but other circumstances prevented us from leaving. There were news reports of petrol gouging and warnings of prosecution to those doing the implementing - some reports were of stations charging $4.00 a gallon. How some people could take profit from this shocking situation was beyond us and the average citizen. However the threat of being reported brought those guilty to their senses and prices returned almost to normal. We continued throughout the day to watch TV as more revelations came about. News of 5 fire fighters who had entered the towers along with so many others in a rescue attempt had been found alive and renewed hope for many families that loved ones may yet still have survived. Some believed that those unaccounted for may still be wandering the streets in a shocked daze or be amongst the John/Jane Does in one of the 40 odd hospitals where wounded had been taken too. Families and friends wandered the streets desperately clutching much loved photos with descriptions, anxiously hoping that somewhere, someone, would have seen their loved one and provide vital information to finding them. A lot of the anger had not yet set in, people were still in shock and disbelief, still uncertain of what to do next. Others flooded the area not looking for friends/family but wanting to help, wanting to give, share, encourage and just do anything that maybe worthwhile rather than sit at home and feel useless and hopeless.

The next day we headed home, stopping in Jefferson and Marshall. More and more patriotic flags were appearing on everything imaginable, some at half mast. There was the odd report of attacks on Mosques out of anger, ignorance and frustration. President Bush came out and made statements reinforcing the true facts and beliefs of Islam and asking people not to take their frustrations out on those who were American citizens like themselves and who were not supporting the beliefs of these terrorists. He called for patience and solidarity while he and the country's top officials discussed the best course of retaliatory action. The message was clear, 'they will be sought out and made to pay for their actions'. However no action was being taken in haste. The prime target of course, was Osama Bin Laden who had already been responsible for other attacks. New reports were being revealed hourly on various suspects being detained around the country for questioning. Fresh accounts of data being collated from phone calls made from the ill-fated aircrafts and flight data records. More and more shocking footage of the events of that morning were coming to light and being televised. The very personal stories of victims and their families were starting to emerge bringing the horror and enormity of it all directly into the living rooms of the country. At this time I was starting to feel alienated as a resident who was not a citizen. There was so much talk of American Citizens being affected and while I was not a citizen, I was a resident as many many others were and thus affected also. I almost felt like I didn't have the same right to be saddened and upset, however as further stories came about, more and more were talking about the various nationalities living here, the many nationalities that had been victims of the attack and therefore embraced us all into the mourning process. By Thursday night when we were back home and Michael had returned to work we both felt completely washed out from it all.

That Friday was declared a national day of remembrance. It was a rainy day here, Michael arrived home early that morning from work and went to sleep. I watched continued to watch the T.V. coverage. So many interviews with victims families/friends which were consuming and heart-wrenching. Tears welled up countless times. Later that morning was the main memorial service. That in itself was extremely moving. Speakers were present from all nationalities. The patriotism was full force. I needed to go out and get groceries and yet I felt guilty carrying on a semi normal life while so many lives had been blown apart and changed forever. I delayed going out until the afternoon. The mood outside was sombre and fewer people than normal were out in the shops. Stores had sold out early of American flags and there was nothing to be found. I was at saturation point with TV. and the news on the radio in the car and yet I couldn't detach from it, you had to know, had to hear, had to be part of it all. Like a magnetic force, it was like one large human circle which couldn't be broken. Volunteer firemen, police, red cross relief worked around the clock delicately removing piece by piece, loading it into plastic buckets and passing it around in a human chain, still hoping to find victims in pockets of rubble while the fires still continued to burn. Supplies of clothing, snacks and food, medical supplies were flooding into the area by those wanting to give to the tireless workers. There were trestle upon trestle set up of all these supplies ready for the grabbing as workers drew a quick breath before going back into the midst of the chaos of what had become known as Ground Zero. No one wanted to sleep, to waste time in the hope of finding people still alive.

Saturday, President Bush was asking for people to return to their normal daily functions, in an attempt to get the country back on its feet again. The missing persons board at Ground Zero continued to fill with desperate notices of loved ones missing. As time went on hope was slowly starting to wane for finding survivors, and yet hope was still there with such determination that was unshakable. Aerial photos of the devastation started to be released. It was like viewing a war zone. The estimated timeframe to totally clear the area of debris was about 6 months. Businesses in the immediate area were slowly starting to prepare for a return to work on the Monday with the knowledge of limited or no transport within close proximity. More and more evidence was uncovered, more arrests were made. The world was being summoned to join us in eradicating terrorism, to provide their support in whatever way they could to unearthing these culprits. Anger still reared its ugly head around the country in senseless killings of people that were not necessarily Muslim or from Afghanistan, but unfortunately 'looked the part' and so unwittingly had to take the blame for those 'we' could not find. They were American citizens and residents, the United States was their home too. The ignorance of the retaliators sickened me. All of a sudden families who had escaped such unrest in their own countries for a better life in the U.S. were being forced to hide and live in fear yet again through a warped and misguided association. Advertisements appeared on T.V. asking parents not to teach their children to hate. More emphasis on making people aware that not all Muslims carried the same views as these Muslim extremists. Calm was being sought, understanding and tolerance begged.

Still more than a week later, I sit trying to recount that shocking week, trying to remember events of what we did other than watching T.V., listening to the radio accounts and personal stories that brought such an imaginable wave of emotion and bewilderment. How human beings could bring this much devastation to a nation in a manner in which it will never fully recover but hopefully be stronger and more determined than ever not to permit such an atrocity to ever befall any country or any people ever again. So many things happened last week which will no doubt return in dribs and drabs as events are repeated in the media. Tonight there has been a telethon, 'America: A Tribute to Heroes' to raise money for those affected by the US attacks. In a rare collaboration by all four major American TV networks, musicians and actors readily came forward to contribute to this live, two-hour, commercial-free simulcast in the hopes to bring the American family together to salute the American spirit and raise funds for a long-term relief effort for the many thousands who have directly suffered from this assault. It was a historic and unprecedented production filmed out of New York and Los Angeles Studios and given the time allowed to orchestrate this tasteful and amazing feat. The atmosphere was sombre, the stories emotive, the songs poignant and the plea soft but strong. I watched intermittently while taping the show for Michael to watch later. The finale was Willy Nelson singing 'America the Beautiful' with all the entertainers in the Los Angeles studio behind him in support. I didn't think that I could still be so moved to tears….