I got this from another post done last year on this...yes I cut and pasted it but was too lazy to re-type it.
I was in northern Ontario with my brother and two other friends doing some fishing and hiking near North Bay. We had a good time and were scheduled to return anyway on the 13th. We decided we wanted to cut the trip short, drive into Ottawa for a day, then down to Toronto for a day or two. So, the evening of the 9th we leave North Bay and get into Ottawa. We spent the 10th there and saw the sights and such.
The morning of the 11th, we catch a plane from Ottawa to Pearson Intl Airport. No sooner than we got our luggage that we saw a ton of people around the TVs and the news of the planes hitting the WTC. Needless to say, we were stunned and didn't know if we were going to be getting home on time.
We hit the town, we went to the Hockey Hall of Fame, took in a bodyrub place, etc. However, it just didn't have the same feel or fun to it that it normally would have had. Especially at the bodyrub/massage parlor...masseuses and patrons alike all watching TV seeing the non-stop coverage of the WTC and the Pentagon.
Next morning, get a call from my mom, my wife had given her the phone number to our hotel. She informed me my grandmother had died during the night, she had been hospitalized for the shingles. Our first response was my brother and I wanted to drive to Boston. My parents told us to stay put, the whole city was in lockdown from the day before. So, we were stuck in Toronto until that Friday.
We got out when a couple of models and the head of their agency in Europe (they were enroute to Chicago from Paris on 9/11 when they diverted them to Toronto) had rented out a van to drive to Chicago. The four of our group pitched in with them and down the road we went on Saturday the 15th.
The whole trip should have been a wet dream come true, riding in a van with two gorgeous models. However, there was mostly silence. Music didn't sound right, I was even hoping for a football game but nothing was on for sports either. I was supposed to have been at the Iowa-Iowa State game that afternoon (that game was postponed until the weekend after Thanksgiving). We talked some about midway through the trip, but by the time the trip ended we were all talking up a storm.
My wife (five months preggers at the time with our son), my brother's girlfriend, and our buddies' spouses met us in Chicago at the car rental place by the airport. One of the models hugged my wife like she was an old friend. Then, I hugged my wife and started bawling my eyes out.
I think about 9/11 and I get angry all over again. Partly because of losing my grandma and not getting to attend the funeral, but also because I didn't think it could happen and want to make sure it never happens again. But, at the same time, it seemed to bring people together. We were driving down the road with people that under normal circumstances we would probably never meet. We got to know each other and at least for a moment there was some kinship.
I pray for all the families who lost family members, and also pray that America will find the vigilance to make sure that we never have another 9/11 again.