19 years ago today I was at work, just like lots of other people. I worked in for the US government in the Federal Building in downtown Rochester.

We had a TV in the conference room and soon people were gathered around it watching the images of the twin towers burning. We were stunned. We were scared. We were scared.

Before long it was obvious that this was no accident, that in fact we were under attack.

In the lobby of the Federal building a conversation started with the marshals, some judges, and other’s about what to do. Should they evacuate the building?

One marshal pointed out that it was possible that the attack in NY was the tip of the iceberg, and that there may be snipers waiting outside different buildings waiting for evacuees.

Maybe it was safer to stay put, shelter in place as they say nowadays.

Eventually they sent us home, telling us to move quickly to our cars and go straight home.

At home I sat with my (then) wife and 5 month old daughter, eyes glued to the TV, staring in disbelief.

Who the hell is Al Queda? Who the hell is Osama Bin Laden? What’s their beef with the US, or New York, or a bunch of white collar people in office buildings?

But my most vivid memory is of the people on TV in other parts of the world celebrating. There were videos of people marching in a street yelling death to America and rejoicing about news of the attacks.

That has stuck with me. People on the other side of the world celebrating the death of people they’ve never met, never seen, and likely know nothing about.

Celebrating death. Celebrating suffering. Celebrating pain.

I’m sure they had their reasons. I’m well aware that many people around the world don’t think much of the US. We’ve all see people burning flags and protesting and all of that.

But to celebrate the death of citizens was (and still is) impossible to process.

None of the people killed on 9/11 were solders. They weren’t on military bases, they weren’t charging into battle against an enemy.

They were regular people, dropping their kids at school, grabbing their Starbucks, and heading into work.

They were people. Humans.

Some of the celebrants were interviewed. Predictably they found the whole thing perfectly fine, killing any American was justifiable, in their minds.

I’m sure they see America as a bully, a tyrant, an occupying force. On some level their anger is understandable.

But their joy at the death of innocent people is not understandable. It’s savage. It’s cruel. It’s inhuman.

Unfortunately those images are more prominent in my memory than many other’s. The hate. The rage. The lack of humanity. The savage cruelty of people celebrating the death of people.