Where Were You?

I was in Las Vegas and ran into a friend.  She was there on business as an in-house lawyer for an alcohol company in Chicago.  Of course, it was a fun sort of business, and she invited me to a taco party at the Hard Rock that night which I happily attended.

We planned to meet the next day.  I woke up early, saw the news on TV and decided to drive straight back to LA.  No one knew exactly what was going on, of course, or if there was more to come.  Traffic was a mess, but the weirdest thing was no planes in the sky--by that time they'd all been grounded.

Once I got home I called my family (no cell, which wasn't that unusual back then).  The four planes had all been destined for LA, and no one was sure of the significance of that.

Then I called my friend to tell her I'd gone.  It turned out she was stuck there.  No planes, of course, and all the rental cars were already gone.

I spent the day at home, watching TV.  Everyone was wondering if the other shoe would drop, but LA was still open, at least.  Back in the '92 riots, I actually had trouble finding staples like bread and milk, and forget about gas.

The next day, everyone was still in shock.  I went to an outdoor cafe nearby.  A car drove over a steel plate and everyone look around to see what happened.  Even when I flew to Detroit the next month you could see the passengers were still on edge.

I remember reading Mickey Kaus around then. His theory was the news cycle goes much faster than it used to.  He figured we'd forget what happened--or at least realize it's just one story among many--before long.  I like Mickey, but that's got to be one of the worst calls ever.