Tuesday 11 September 2001
One of those days, never to forget. I was at work in Brussels when I saw it all on TV, as I left through the lobby to catch the Schuman train. The Twin Towers in New York had been attacked by so-called Islamic terrorists. They hijacked two airliners and flew, suicide mode, straight into the skyscrapers. The buildings caught fire and collapsed, in a cloud of smoke and dust. Thousands died. Terrible. A friend (and he wasn’t alone) said “The news coverage made it all look like a disaster movie“.
Thursday 11 March 2004
Another day, never to forget. Again, I was work. This time my wife called to say “There’s been a massive terrorist attack on several trains around Atocha in Madrid. Big explosions. The government says it’s the Basque terrorists but it can’t be. They always claim responsibility. It must have been Islamic terrorists“. There were gaping holes in the train carriages, with people, dead, dying and injured, strewn along the railway tracks. The death toll mounted soon. Thousands were wounded. A big political row began over who did it and why.