Journal

Journal in the perspective of: Wafah, the first daughter of Carmen and Yeslam. She graduated from Colombia University in New York City. This blog was written after Wafah has gotten the news of the attack in New York and is frantically contacting her friends in New York.

September 11, 2001 9:45am:

I was in the car when I heard the news. My mother was on the phone with her close friend from New York. I could tell she was in shock... her face froze, and she pulled over. I frantically asked her what was happening, however I wish I could of forever remained blissfully ignorant of the horrific attack that just took place on the city I loved, and looked to as my second home. As quickly as the words escaped my mothers mouth, the tears poured out of my eyes...they are still pouring out of my eyes as I write this now. In that moment, I punched in the phone numbers of my closest friends whom I had been with at Colombia just months ago. I felt an urgency to get on a plane that instant and be by their side, by my city's side. I still do. I want to be there now. I need to help! I don't know what to do with myself while I am so far away.

September 11, 2001 7:20pm:

My mother sat me and my sisters down. She told us the media would be going be crazy with this story. She told us that our uncle, a man whom we had never met, whose values were foreign to us, but who shared our name, was behind this. There has been a pit in my stomach since the morning, and it is still there, weighing heavier than ever. Will my friends understand? Will the world understand, that me, my mother and my sisters have nothing to do with this? I am worried and scared now, not only for my friends and my city, but for myself and my family.

September 12, 2001 2:35am

I can't fall asleep. I can't stop watching the news. I can't stop contacting every friend I have in New York and beyond. I can't get the idea out of my head, that somewhere lurking behind the shadows of all this, my uncle has a part in this destruction. My life is about to change forever. My sisters Najia and Noor are in deep pain, like me. Naija won't stop exclaiming that "America will never be the same again," and for the most part, Noor stays quiet. My mother is still in shock I think...but as always she is so brave for us. Without her, I don't know if me and my sisters would be able to get through this.

September 14, 2001 2:30pm

I have not written in 2 days. I have been so busy, contacting friends and trying to keep a low profile. Luckily all my friends in New York escaped the attack unscathed, however they almost all have family members or other friends who were affected. I have been unable to get a hold of any of my professors, and I pray they are okay. I know that even if no one lost a family member or friend, we all lost a part of a hearts and a part of our city, state, country... Our home. We are all grieving. I almost forgot to mention, the most horrific article came out yesterday. I was brought to tears the instant I read the headline alone. A paper is claiming that I fled New York the week before the attack because I was tipped off about the attack. Nothing could be more untrue! I have been in Switzerland with my mother since June. My family tells me not to worry about stories like these, but it still hurts me to the core. Some of my friends ask if I did know anything about the attack my uncle was planning. If I had, I would of done everything in my power to of stopped it. Its so odd the way a name I was so proud of days earlier now, is a heavy burden weighing down my identity. Every day since the 11th has been harder and harder, but mother says it will get easier in the coming weeks... I hope she is right.