I was on my way to work, taking the usual 35 minute+ drive into downtown Milwaukee. I had just listened to one of the FM stations do an interview with Santana Dotson, then with the Packers. As I neared Miller Park, they said that a story had just come across about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center. No thoughts about terrorism yet; just sounded like a freak accident. I turned on WBBM AM out of Chicago to see if I could get some news. They cut away to an affiliate in New York and I listened to that the rest of the drive in. Just as I got downtown and was getting ready to pull into the parking lot, the reporter in New York said, " Oh my God! Another plane has just hit the other tower of the Trade Center!"

At work, there was nothing but people listening to the news that entire morning. At about 11AM, our building announced that it would close " for security reasons" at Noon and everyone had to leave. Apparently, any building over 20 stories was looked at as a target (our building is 30 stories). I drove home and for lack of anything better to do, washed my Durango. The thoughts of the opening of bow season, set for the upcoming Saturday, were pushed out of my mind.

That weekend, the opening of bow season in Wisconsin came as scheduled. I remember sitting in the stand Saturday morning and reflecting on the events of the week. I remembered thinking how innocent things seemed only one week earlier. I thought about the fact that only about 96 hours before, people were heading to work, it was just an ordinary day, and life was as it had been seemingly forever. It was too early to recognize the whole impact that 9/11 would have, but something told me the world would never quite be the same, at least for America. Just recalling the whole chain of events left me with a strange sick, empty feeling as I watched a couple does and fawns eat some clover. That night, we went to the local watering hole we frequent during hunting season. A news show played back scenes from 9/11. I couldn' t help but get that sick, empty feeling all over again. It seemed that not even hunting or a few beers with friends could dull the pain.