On September 11, 2001, I was in front of the repair shop at work talking to the maintenance chief and a couple others about this and that to do with keeping a truck fleet in operation.  Angela, the receptionist, came out of the office and told us that an airplane had flown into the World Trade Center.  After a couple of cracks about pilots and drinking, I remembered that after WWII sometime, a B-25 had flown into the Empire State Building.  I wondered how such a thing could happen in this day and age.  Information was sketchy;  we didn't even know what kind of plane it was.  Angela said she had the impression that it was a big one.
I don't remember where I was exactly when I heard that a second plane had hit  the other tower.  I had this thought that this could be no malfunction.  Someone had done this on purpose.  With that thought came a feeling akin to dread.  It was like the feeling you would get at the sound of a round being chambered in the dark.  The hair on your neck stands up, breathing gets rapid and shallow, blood rushes to the vital places, hands tremble with the surge of adrenaline, the body prepares for "fight or flight".  An unspecified threat is about to materialize.  
This morning, as I watched the news reports coming in about a second oil rig explosion in the Gulf, I had that same feeling again.  I was very suspicious of the first rig explosion and fire and the unconfirmed reports of SWAT teams going out to other rigs.  The "investigation" hasn't told us anything about how the first one took place, yet.  I hope I am wrong.  I hope that competent people are in charge of maintaining security on all those wells out in the Gulf.  I hope that there is enough collective testosterone in the Defense Department to see to it that sufficient force is available to protect the Gulf Shores from whatever threat may be about to materialize on the horizon...maybe we need a "Surge" on our southern borders and seacoast.