I started to steel myself for a tragedy.

They talked of “all those people” and the buildings. I didn’t know where or how many, but I knew innocent people in a building somewhere had been attacked.

The 5 bus lines of the tri-town area are color-coded for the map. Mine, the Main Line, was the 2 in Leominster; in Fitchburg, it became the 5. For the map color-coding, it was blue. So I sat behind the driver of the blue line, listening intently to hollow-voiced DJs. They re-announced that planes drove right into the center of two buildings of the World Trade Center; first the one, then just as people recovered and help arrived, the second.

The bus made a sharp turn, swerving around the hills and valleys of the Montachusett area. I slid from one seat to the next, barely aware that I had done so.

I was, of course, aware of New York. I knew that it had a World Trade Center, though I did what for. I did not know how many buildings it had, or that they had once towered above the rest of the skyline.