I don’t know how to start here.

I slept through my alarm this morning and would’ve missed my first meeting of the day. But my mom called and told me to turn on the TV.

My job is to inform people. I spent part of the day at my local airport. Part of the day with a preacher. Part of the day watching gas prices rise. I watched people cry all day.

Each time I wandered by a TV, I saw planes, fire, people jumping out of buildings.

How do you react? I tripped between anger, numbness, and wet eyes. Each time I tell somebody, “it doesn’t get any worse than this,” it does.

I think about the thousands of families who have lost everything tonight. I feel guilty about my feelings. As far as I know right now, everybody I love is okay. But I’m still hurting. My colleagues are numb.

Strangely, I find myself just wanting to put on a pair of sweatpants and hold my dog.

But, right now, my job is to inform people, for bad or for good.

It’s been almost exactly 12 hours since I woke up…and I’m still having a hard time making myself believe that this doesn’t have anything to do with me.

More than anything…I just realized…there is absolutely nothing I can do that will change much of anything.

Some people pray. I don’t and this is one of those times I wish I did.

Brad Willis

Brad Willis is a writer based in Greenville, South Carolina. Willis spent a decade as an award-winning broadcast journalist. He has worked as a freelance writer, columnist, and professional blogger since 2005. He has also served as a commentator and guest on a wide variety of television, radio, and internet shows.

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