On the morning of September 11, 2001, I was standing in our hallway bathroom, staring at a wall, when the phone rang. It
probably took me a few rings to snap out of my trance—after all, bathroom remodeling is serious business. But after I answered the phone, deciding on paint color and tile
didn’t seem so important anymore. It was Andy calling from work, telling me to turn on the TV and see the events unfolding over 1,500 miles away. I put
down my tape measure and watched in horror. It was so unbelievable, at times I felt as if I was watching a twisted episode of Batman where the villains were winning,
in an over-the-top, diabolical way, using only a few people and a few box cutters. The atrocities kept happening, and somewhere, you just knew
…
Category: Kids and TV
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