I was I college. Oddly enough, in a journalism class. We were in the art building and the teacher was trying not to panic so she told us to write down what we were seeing and hearing on the tv. It was a ceiling mounted old school 15 inch. I was writing down the news reports as they were coming in, what was happening, if people were evacuated, fire trucks, etc. The guy next to me was writing what people were saying.

So my notebook was full of "one plane has hit, and now a second one, there's chaos.." and his was full of "my god my god what have they done"...

He started crying when he heard that people were jumping. It was like a weird dream where I wasn't really there. I saw the OKC bombing on the news years before. It felt like that.

It only hit me a few days later when a newspaper published a picture of a man falling down the side of the building. He had jumped to escape the flames, and I knew he died. I just started crying, didn't stop for a few hours. I still think about that picture sometimes. He knew he was going to die. We have such a strong drive for survival against all odds, it just wouldn't compute for me.