For those who don't follow the news, a disgruntled man left his home in flames while he flew his single-engine plane into a building that, among other things, housed local IRS offices.
All day, I watched, read, refreshed and tried to absorb what had happened to this building only 8 or so miles from my home. A building I have seen countless times, but never really looked at before.
At about 1:30 I began to realize that I had to get dressed, step away, go get the girls from school. I had to figure out how to explain this to them, as it will surely filter into their world from somewhere. If nothing else, we will drive by someday a building with a hole in it and they will ask why.
It's crazy. Simply crazy. I cannot myself understand this act; how can I explain it to sweet children?
The stories have been trickling in all day. A dad of Melody's classmate was in the building, the uncle of a friend. A guy I used to go to church with driving past it right after it hit, a student's dad in the building next door, a friend's friend here and someone's friend not there.
I just cant process this. This happened where I live. I see this building, I drive down that road, I have looked at moving into that neighborhood where his house burned as he flew into an office where people in my life have walked. I am stunned. I think that, if I only read it enough, hear it enough, see it enough, it will make sense.
This must be how New Yorkers felt. The enormity isn't the same, but when you consider the scale of new york:austin, it hits as hard. To our big-little laid-back town of hippies, techies and college-kids like me who came and never moved away, it seems so out of character to be attacked by such anger.