I just had this realization with a guy I’m training at work who lived in Queens and was 2 when 9/11 happened. He has absolutely no recollection of it. Meanwhile my old ass was in high school when it happened and I can remember that day very clearly.
Heh. “Highschool”. I remember driving down the road and seeing cars abandoned in the middle of an intersection, doors open and all, just outside a popular diner on the corner. The crowd was eerily silent, packed around the TVs inside that normally showed the weather, sports, what have you. When I followed suit, a stranger turned to me and said “They hit the Twin Towers!” while behind him, a screen showed the second plane impacting.
That was a couple years postgraduate, and everything changed that day. Nothing seemed real anymore, and at the same time, everything mattered — down to a debilitating granular scale. I called a colleague who had just left for NYC on a photog trip, and he didn’t pick up. A few days later, be called back, frantic and babbling about some crazy shot he got just walking around town on his own. It was too be TIME’s cover.
There’s contention on if gen z started in 96 or 97
I choose 96
For no particular reason
I think the demarcator is whether or not you can remember 9/11
I just had this realization with a guy I’m training at work who lived in Queens and was 2 when 9/11 happened. He has absolutely no recollection of it. Meanwhile my old ass was in high school when it happened and I can remember that day very clearly.
I recently promoted a guy to be a supervisor, and only just now realised he was born after 9/11…
Heh. “Highschool”. I remember driving down the road and seeing cars abandoned in the middle of an intersection, doors open and all, just outside a popular diner on the corner. The crowd was eerily silent, packed around the TVs inside that normally showed the weather, sports, what have you. When I followed suit, a stranger turned to me and said “They hit the Twin Towers!” while behind him, a screen showed the second plane impacting.
That was a couple years postgraduate, and everything changed that day. Nothing seemed real anymore, and at the same time, everything mattered — down to a debilitating granular scale. I called a colleague who had just left for NYC on a photog trip, and he didn’t pick up. A few days later, be called back, frantic and babbling about some crazy shot he got just walking around town on his own. It was too be TIME’s cover.
I’m 96 and do not remember
Deargawd. How are you on the internet?!