My wife, our three-year-old daughter and I arrived in England on September 4, 2001, embarking on what would be a stay of two years and four months. I was starting work on a graduate degree at Cambridge.
At about 2:30 on the afternoon of September 11, a neighbor whom I had met the day before pounded on the door of our flat. Roy was about 70, a working stiff in a flat woolen cap, and he had a crazed look in his eyes when I opened the door. "Tom! Tom!" he shouted. "They've flown an aeroplane into the Fair Trade Center! In New York! Turn on your telly!"
Between my initial assumption that the Fair Trade Center must be in Guatemala and a good deal of puzzlement at Roy's East Anglian drawl, I was slow to process this information. In due course, though, we rushed back to the kitchen and turned on the 1970s-vintage black-and-white TV our landlord had provided.
The following weekend, I sent the message below to friends. I'm posting it verbatim on this anniversary as a document of its time.
--Tom Wood, Nashville
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