I was at Henry Ford Hospital standing in the checked in line. The television was on and the news report showed the first plane crashing into the World Trade Center. At that point, it was assumed to be an accident. I went in for my appointment, then went to another section of the hospital to get fitted for a foot brace. I then took the bus to downtown Detroit and found my office suite was strangely empty. I started to walk to my office and the office manager came running down the hall yelling at me that the building had been evacuated. It was only then that I realized what had happened. I had to walk down several flights to exit the building. It was then that I noticed the crowds. Oddly, I hadn't noticed them as I was rushing to get to work. It was then that I got the full scope of what was happening as I waited for a bus for two hours with the assistance of numerous public safety agencies. The bus was crowded and several people were crying over the silence. I got off the bus at my transfer point but walked the extra mile to my house. I got home and my mother was waiting for me. I then sat in front of the television and cried, cried, and cried. We finally heard from family members in Queens and they were okay. I cried and cried again. Then we waited to hear from my brother who was in the Navy. He was able to send an email that he and his crew were safe near Australia (didn't hear from him again for three months). Then I got angry. Then deep mourning. Still mourning. Still angry. Still sad. Still praying for peace.