It was Tuesday. Every Tuesday at 5:30 am in 2001, I taught aerobics at 24 hr fitness. A regular attendee to this class was my close friend Heidi Wixom. As I was instructing the class and doing aerobics, I saw Heidi through the large glass windows walk across the gym floor, running about 25 minutes late. She paused to look at the overhead televisions by the cardio area. Rather than glancing at them, she stopped midtrack and stared. Quickly after that, others joined her. What was just Heidi watching the news in a moment became a gathering of early bird gym friends standing and staring at the television. As I taught and became distracted by this, Heidi and I made eye contact. She mouthed to me the words, "Come here, NOW!" I announced to the class that I had to walk out and they should come with me.
As I watched the North tower burning on the TV, I asked Heidi if it was a movie. She stated that she thought it was live news. As we spoke, another gym member went to get the remote and we finally were able to hear the reporter. There we were, all gathered together watching as the second plane crashed into the South tower. We gasped in disbelief completely unsure of what we just witnessed.
Heidi broke the silence and announced she was going home. One by one we agreed and departed. Upon arriving home, I found Greg standing infront of our bedroom TV. He was staring with shock in his eyes and a tie he couldn't quite put on as he got ready for work. We discussed what we should do. Greg debated going to work but decided that if his students were there, he needed to go. As Jesse's teacher, he would take Jesse with him.
We woke our children and told them what had happened. Jesse was in 7th grade, Kelly in 5th, Luke in 3rd and Michael in kindergarten. I kept the elementary kids home.
I remained glued to the television all of that day, at times with tears streaming down my face, at other times sobbing uncontrollably. I kept my children close and became ever more protective of them from that point on.
