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I began this millennium ten years ago today, in St. Louis, on a youth group trip to some Y2K extravaganza inside the stadium where the Rams play. In the middle of Third Day’s set (Third Day!), some friends and I ran outside so we could see the fireworks and Y2K blackouts over the St. Louis skyline at midnight. I think we got in trouble for leaving, but we didn’t care. If the world was going to end that night, we were going to witness it first hand. Nothing happened. And that’s all I can really remember from the year 2000—aside from the general chaos of the Bush/Gore presidential, U.S. History AP with Mrs. Ashley, Britney Spears on TRL, and the Sydney Olympics (vaguely). The decade didn’t really get started until 2001. That’s the year I graduated from high school, moved from home, and started college. And of course, there was that day in the second week of September.
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