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By JEANNE ROLLER
Resident of Monticello, Professor Emeritus of St. Ambrose University
As I was backing up my driveway in Iowa, the first plane hit. By the time I got to work, the second had reached the World Trade Center.
I knew life had changed forever after a 50 minute drive.
My students ran between my desk and a TV in the student center, giving me updates. A student had a brother who worked at the Pentagon, and she called me before I left for the day to tell me that he and his wife, who also worked there, were safe. She walked nearly four miles in three inch heels.
The gas had skyrocketed and I sat in a line two blocks away to pay in cash as none of the credit card machines or ATMs were working.
That night my father called me. At 91, he never called unless it was my birthday or a relative had passed away. After the salutes we fell silent, then he said, “It’s a lot worse than Pearl Harbor.
I think he meant that Pearl Harbor was the defining moment of his generation and that it was mine.
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