We lived in Sherwood, Oregon on September 11, 2001. Grandpa Lauro and Grandma Conchita had been visiting us for a couple of weeks and were scheduled to fly back to Monterrey from Portland very early that day. We left the house about 5:00 am and I dropped them off at the airport. As I was driving in to work at ESI in Portland, I turned on the radio in time to hear that something crazy was going on in New York City. It took me about a half an hour to get to work. When I arrived, some guys already had the television on and were watching the first tower burn. More and more people kept showing up to watch as the second tower got hit, then both towers collapsed. Not much work got done that day. We all just kind of walked around in a daze.
In the meantime, Grandpa Lauro and Grandma Conchita got sent home in a cab. They ended up staying with us for an extra week before they could get a flight home. Since we did not have a television, Aunt Julia loaned us a little portable one so we could watch the events unfold. What we did not know until later is that Aunt Jean and Uncle Rick were in New York City with Cousins Julia and Kylee. They were taking Julia to catch an airplane to Madrid as she was scheduled to go there as an exchange student. The whole family was spending a few days in New York to do some site seeing together. They were all on a tour bus on the way for a tour and lunch at the top of the towers when they saw all the smoke. They got stuck in New York City for several days before they could make their way home.