I remember where I was. I was working a contract job in San Jose, by happenstance the last I ever had in my professional specialty, writing documentation for a new robot in those machines that handle silicon wafers in microprocessor plants. Hadn’t been at it long, either, because I was still commuting from Gilroy, which I had mistakenly thought would save me money. Heard about it as soon as I got in the truck and turned on the radio.
And today I reflect on all the indirect blessings that flowed from the horrible tragedy: endless talk and endless war and a virtual guard tower on every corner of the virtual fence.