I fully realize that this is somewhat gratuitous, but significant anniversaries have been catching up with me lately, making me feel old so I've been remembering September 11th, 2001. I was in the first semester of my senior year of college at Belmont University, sitting in my Social Theory course with a handful of other students. I noticed an odd number of people quickly scurrying around the hallway through the door window. When class ended, I headed home, which was just a few blocks from campus, and passed my roommate along they way. "Did you hear?" he asked me. I hadn't. As I pondered the ramifications of the attack for the rest of my walk, I became very frightened, convinced that I would be drafted for the inevitable war. Many thoughts raced through my head. Perhaps I would be deferred as a student or for having an arthritic hip. I lamented the fact that, while I considered myself a pacifist, I hadn't established my beliefs in a confirmable way that might have earned me a pass. When I got home, I quickly turned on the television to see both of the still-standing Twin Towers burning against the morning sky.