“She must be watching a movie…”
September 11, 2001, Glendale California. Shortly before 6 a.m. A ringing phone wakes me up. I hear my girlfriend groggily answer it, and I can hear, all the way over on my side, the voice of her mother, upset about something. Lots of “What? What? What?” coming from that side of the bed.
“What’s she on about?” I manage to mumble.
“My mom says a plane hit t…
