No person old enough to remember anything on September 11, 2001 could ever forget where they were when they heard the news.  Leading up to the 10th anniversary of the most horrific day in American history, I'll continue to feature Kiss Country staffers and YOU, our listeners, and our memories.  If you'd like to add your story, please email me garymccoy@townsquaremedia.com.  You can also add your comments below to our Facebook page.

Today's memory comes from Courtney Fanning of Converse.

I remember September 11 like it was yesterday. At the time I was employed as a customer service rep for CenturyTel and the calls started rolling in. We were in a large room full of cubicles, with no televisions or radios and no way of knowing what had just happened. Instead of calling in with billing questions or to order services, customers were calling in to tell us that planes were flying in to buildings and concerned that a plane might have collided with the White House too. I remember hearing the panic in the voice of the first customer to call me about the attacks. A sweet elderly woman, home alone and wanting to just talk to someone. It felt like I was on that call forever, and I knew that if I was being monitored I would probably get in trouble for just sitting there on the phone, but at the time I didn't care. I remember looking over the walls of my cubicle at my co-workers around me, most of them with the same shocked expressions I'm sure I had. They were getting the calls, too. I remember other employees rolling a tv into the break room and everyone gathering around it on breaks, trying to make sense of what had happened. I remember seeing footage of people jumping from buildings trying to escape the chaos inside, of people sobbing on the streets, and most of all I remember just wanting to get out of that building and pick up my son from daycare and go home. Even though we were so far away from the devastation, it hit so close to home; this could have happened anywhere. The loss of human lives was and still is just heartbreaking.