I was nine months along with my son David. My husband was stationed at Kirtland Air Force Base in Albuquerque, N.M.
I was doing what any woman 40 weeks prego would have been doing, sleeping a lot. My husband, Daniel, called me and told me to get up and turn on the TV. I flipped through to a new channel, and I was watching all the black smoke pouring out of this building. I had just woken up I didn’t know what was going on.
I told him, “Why did you wake me up to watch some ‘Die Hard’ movie?”
He said, “We’re being attacked, Jill!”
Just then the second plane hit. I was glued to the TV until the towers fell. I wondered what kind of nasty world was I bringing my son into.