For me it was especially strange since I was in Uruguay and didn't have any access to the media. the only reason I knew anything had happened was because I was walking to teach English with my companion, Hermana Hamilton, and some people motioned to us and had us come into a restaurant, pointing to the TV. Since we weren't supposed to watch TV as missionaries, I didn't really know what to do, and just looked briefly. It was really hard to tell what was going on... lots of smoke and building, but I really couldn't tell what I was looking at. There were words on the screen -Torres Gemelas- but at that time, I didn't know what gemelas meant and was just confused. When I got to our English class, a new missionary knew what it meant, and the magnitude of what had happened began to sink in, though to be honest it was very hard to grasp and I know I didn't react with as much horror as I now feel when I think of that day.
A day or two later we got to see our mission president, but he seemed to assume we all already knew what had happened, so he didn't really give any details. It wasn't until weeks later when I received detailed letters from my brother Brian that I finally began to understand everything that had happened. The only thing I knew was that no matter the horrors in the world, His plan could bring peace and that's what we focused on as we continued our missionary service. The kindness of our neighbors was incredible as those who before wouldn't talk to us now stopped us and expressed their condolences.