Obligatory goosebumps

We had a very specific morning routine.
I would wake up and put on the coffee he had prepped the night before. I would shower while he watched the news. He would often shout up to me the interesting things that were already happening in our world - it is always strange to realize how much goes on before I am even awake.

"You're not gonna believe this," he called up the stairs. "Some f***-up ran a plane into one of the towers in New York."

"Which tower?" I asked, assuming he meant a Cessna had clipped a radio antenna atop the Rockefeller.

"One of the world trade towers - man, good morning America."

Honestly, we thought it was funny. Sad that so many people were obviously dead or injured - but really, what kind of pilot ran into buildings.

So, we finished our morning routine.

He showered while I brushed my teeth and dressed. I turned off the TV and finished homework while he dressed and together we walked to chapel.

On the way from our apartment to campus we typically encountered two other pairs of roommates. A married couple from across the street, and two girls from the end of the road. None of them knew about the plane crash - typical.

Chapel was silent. People were solemn and, despite my arrival with five other people, I immediately felt alone in the huge room. The giant American flag, the one reserved for American Studies speakers and patriotic programs, had replaced the regular curtain.

Another plane, another building - this wasn't a screw up.

6 years later...it feels obligatory to get goose-bumps at least once during the day. Whether it is for the thousands of people who died, or the remarkable bravery shown over the next year during the site excavation...I just can't help it.