Our country has been at war for nearly a decade, but the amorphous fronts of Afghanistan, then Iraq, and now Afghanistan again are so distant, and not just physically. Ongoing American military action, as costly as it has been, has created little noticeable effect in the daily lives of many Americans. In another sense, the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, have torn the country apart, violating our (ultimately false) sense of security and stoking our worst natures as well as our best. It wasn’t long after the attacks before people could make jokes about, “If ______, then the terrorists have won.” Osama bin Laden is dead now, from an American bullet, but in a very real sense the GWOT is still his to lose.

One of the most potent feelings of that first day, and the days immediately afterward, was the sense that we had been united, been transformed by the horrific events. Before long, though, the cable channels were back to Oprah and fishing shows and so much of life returned to normal that that feeling ebbed away.

But at this most fractious juncture in our country’s history, we still have that terrible morning in common. As the 10th anniversary drew near, we asked City Paper readers and contributors, “Where were you?”

I was at home, getting ready for work, when I heard about the first plane hitting the World Trade Center. I thought, Oh, it’s like 1945, when a military plane hit the Empire State Building. What an awful accident. Then I heard a second plane had hit the World Trade Center and that neither crash was an accident. I got to work [at WBJC-FM] as fast as I could, and that was an absolutely surreal day to be on the air. We stayed with music programming, but kept listeners up-to-date on breaking news, all of it so sad. We also set up a TV in the lobby and watched the ongoing coverage in complete horror. My boyfriend (now husband) was supposed to drive down to D.C. for a meeting, but fortunately, he heard the news before getting into the car.

Oddly enough, I’d been in New York the previous weekend with a friend and one of the subway stops we got off at was in the basement of the World Trade Center. A very nice security guard gave us directions . . . I hope the following Tuesday was his day off. I have no way of knowing.

Dyana Neal

My husband, my 5-month-old son, and I had arrived in Rehoboth Beach the evening before. We woke and got ready to go eat some breakfast. We walked up Rehoboth Avenue and into a restaurant with large televisions above the bar. I couldn’t understand why so many people were standing just inside the door, with their gazes lifted to the TV. Then I saw the image of the plane striking the second tower. I couldn’t grasp what I was seeing. Everyone was quiet and no one seemed to breathe. We stood there a long time watching that soundless screen, the towers collapsing, the Pentagon ablaze. Snipers on the roof of the White House. We spent a long time trying to decide if it was too disrespectful to sit down and eat. It seemed like we should just pack up and go home, like relaxing wasn’t what we should be doing. The other thing I vividly remember is feeling so upset by the idea that my baby boy had to live in a world like this. I was relieved he was too small to understand. I was also thankful for that great big never-ending ocean to take my mind off all the horribleness happening nearby.

Janna Rice

I was in my 10th grade math class the morning of Sept. 11, 2001. My teacher was trying to change the channel on the TV in our classroom so we could watch the morning announcements. She passed by a local news station and all I saw was footage of one tower and talk of a plane hitting it. At the time I didn’t think anything of it. I just assumed it was a normal plane crash. My teacher hurried to change the channel and that was the end of it.

I went to my Spanish class and then lunch afterward, and in the lunch room was where everyone started talking about it being a terrorist attack. By the time I got to my photography class, the TVs were on the local news station, and I was slowly being informed of what had actually happened. It took almost my entire school day for any staff to mention the issue to any of us. My classmates started getting pulled out of school one by one by their parents. My mom eventually came to school to pick me up and take me home. On the way to get me a lady was in such a rush to pick up her grandson from elementary school that she rear-ended my mom’s car. My mom still made it to my school to pick me up and take me home and then headed to the hospital to get checked out. Thankfully she just had a mild case of whiplash.

I remember being afraid to go to the hospital with her, but also afraid to be home alone. I was uncertain about whether anything could happen here in Baltimore. I didn’t hear from any of my friends until much, much later that evening. I sat at home while my mom got checked out, watching the news and just worrying about whether I was safe where I was at or not.

Megan Miller

I was at St. Joseph’s Hospital in Towson giving birth to my first child. I was in labor at 4:00 a.m. and my son, Lucas, was born at 9:56 a.m. so we did not know the magnitude of what was happening until after that. It was very chaotic, but also gave hope as something special still was able to happen that day.

Aileen Collender

On the evening of Monday, Sept. 10, 2011, I came home from work and unplugged the TV and rolled it into a corner of the bedroom. I had just moved into a rental property in Canton, and the rugs needed a good cleaning, to say the least. When I started my day the next morning, I was annoyed that the carpet cleaner was late. Where could he be? I thought. Who does business like this? When I phoned the contractor, he apologized and stammered that he’d been watching the news, and that he was sorry and would be there shortly. Still confused, I opened the door to let him in, and that’s how I found out about 9/11, from the nice guy that cleaned my carpets. Just two working-class Americans, standing in my living room, crying like 5-year-old children.

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