I suppose that we will all remember where we were when we heard, the moment we first saw the clip of the plane going into the second tower, of the huge cloud of dust raining down as the people fled in disbelief. The first time I saw the NYC skyline without them, I didn't believe it, I thought it was footage from some hokey movie about world war. I still can't fathom that those towers are gone, torn from us in such a hideous way, using our own planes, our own people, as a weapon of destruction.

Were the hijackers giddy when they woke up yesterday, knowing the entire world would soon see their handiwork? Were they scared to die? Did they consider the Americans on those planes as people, even for a second? Did they doubt that what they were doing was right as the tower grew larger in the cockpit window?

In some ways, I have compassion for them, for the environment that raised them to completely disregard that which we hold most dear -- human life. Phrases like 'at least I still have my health' most likely meant nothing to them. Simple kindness, out of the question. It's just not necessary if your mission in life is to kill.

I guess if you know you're going to ram the plane into a major landmark, causing the entire world to shudder and look at the world in a different, less trusting light, you don't worry about protecting your anonymity, instead, you'd flaunt your presence, using your own name (perhaps proudly).

Are their families proud? Do some people really feel that what those people did was an act of heroism, fighting the ugly Americans in the only way they knew how? Today, do they feel avenged or do they watch the destruction with a sinking feeling that killing thousands of innocent people was, just maybe, the wrong thing?

I can only hope that some sense of conscience came over these people at the last moment, but I am sickened to realize that, most likely, it was just sheer joy.