We never forget where we were or how we found out about big news.
I was in high school when my keyboarding teacher, who loved me because I was an insufferable teacher’s pet, whispered at me and called me over to look at the tiny TV she had on her desk. The Twin Towers had smoke billowing from them.
I was in a ballroom in Pasadena at the Television Critics Association listening to Mark Harmon talk about the new NCIS prequel series when I got a text from my brother that there was an assassination attempt against Donald Trump.
