We got a text message from one of Jason's work colleagues to say, "Turn on the television, CNN". It was just before 9pm. We were living in Kuching, a small city on the island of Borneo.
Before us unfolded something that looked other worldly. A smoking skyscraper, with oft-repeated footage of a plane flying into it, live on our screen. We sat, transfixed as we saw, to our horror, another plane fly into the next tower, live on our screens. Now, we realized, it couldn't have been an accident.
We lived in a large 19 floor hotel with apartments on the top ten floors. I remember thinking, "What if a plane flies into this building next?" Seems a bizarre thought now.
I'm pretty sure I spent the next three days glued to that television set. I wept when I saw the people jumping out of the towers, and when those same towers collapsed but when I saw the people holding up pictures of their lost loved ones, I wept the most, as they stood there bereft, amongst the smoke, dust and tiny pieces of paper.