What moment created the divide between your “B.C.” and “A.D.” parts in your life?

It sounds weird and super stereotypically American, but 9/11.

I was in elementary school in a town with a lot of military families in southern Virginia. Without telling us anything, we where all ushered into the cafeteria at some point and over the next 2 hours everyone was slowly picked up by their parents.

My father had just gotten out of the navy and was returning from a job-hunting trip and was supposed to be changing flights in Washington.

My mother was completely silent when she picked me up and for the first 5 minutes of the drive, at which point she completely lost her shit, telling me about how the twin towers had been hit and where “fucking gone” and how the Pentagon has been blown up.

After driving toward Washington (which probably wasn’t a good idea, in retrospect) my father called my mother and said he’d ended up in Richmond.

I’m in my mid-20s now. I didn’t lose anyone in 9/11, other than a few days of school, but I can’t for the life of me remember anything before then.

/r/AskReddit Thread