I don’t think the anniversary of 9/11 should feel like a storm brewing. Unfortunately, on this eve of the 9 th anniversary, that’s exactly what it feels like. I suppose it has something to do with this being my first 9/11 in this area, about 25 minutes from where the World Trade Centers fell. The drama of the proposed Islamic Center and Koran burning has taken over not only the national news, but every local TV and radio station as well. The wind has picked up outside. The trees are swaying uneasily in the gray, cloudy sky as we brace ourselves for the chaos, protests, and rallies that will surely ensue tomorrow on the sacred ground where so many people lost their lives. It has become the “where were you” question of my generation. I was asleep. A freshman at UNL, my classes that day didn’t start until 11 so I slept late when my dad abruptly woke me and told me to watch the news. Against my parent’s wishes, I went to class that morning on the city bus. Of course, no one could concent