Our grandparents will tell you how
they found out about Pearl Harbor. Our
parents will tell you what they were doing when they heard that President
Kennedy was shot. Your friends will tell
you the story of their 9/11. This is
mine.
My alarm clock went off with a hint
of light coming through my bedroom window.
It was only about a week into the school year but my brain was already
in school mode. My first thought as I
turned off my alarm was collecting what all was ahead for the day. Let’s
see…no quizzes, no tests, no homework due, just another ordinary Tuesday.
I went through my usual morning
routine including breakfast with my brother, and waiting for the clock to turn
the exact minute for us to leave and spend minimal time at the bus stop without
being late. Once at school I went
straight to first hour. The school
district had separated me from my middle school friends. I had two that came with to high school, but
our schedules clashed for all but second hour.
I was used to it. Elementary to
middle school was the same story.
For first hour I had American Government. I was starting to make one friend in that
class, Greg. We sat next to each other and
had the same lunchtime so we had started getting to know each other a bit. We chatted for a bit between the ten minute
warning bell and the starting bell at 7:50am.
What a weird time to start school.
Every morning we would start class
with “current events”. Basically the
teacher played a recording of the five am news broadcast and we took
notes. I managed to get my notes down
about President Bush’s bill on stem cell research and a few other tidbits I don’t
remember while still admiring the view of the morning sun over the junior
varsity field.
My half-hearted attention was overtaken
once we started taking notes. We were
breaking down the three branches of government beyond just legislative,
executive, and judicial, when the psychology teacher from next door popped
in. That was strange enough already.
“You guys do current events in here
right?” She asked plainly.
“Yes,” my teacher answered with the
inflection of a question.
“You might want to turn on the
news,” She said and left without another word.
My teacher went to the classroom TV
and flipped a few channels to CNN. We
see skyscrapers in smoke and the anchor is saying “A second plane has just hit
the south tower of the World Trade Center.”
I was geographically challenged so
my first thought was Where is the World
Trade Center? My second thought is A second plane? What’s going on? Catch me up people, what was going on with
the first one? We spent the rest of
the ninety minute class period watching CNN.
I learned that the World Trade Center, located in New York City was the
tallest structure in America. Two
passenger planes had been highjack and flown into the two towers as an act of terrorism. Reporters were saying that there seems to be
birds falling out of the air from the vast amount of smoke…wait…those aren’t birds. Those are people. People are jumping to their death, one after
another to escape the inferno. That’s
when it really hit me, I went numb.
We watched as news about the Pentagon
came on. I had only recently learned
that previous week that the Pentagon housed the US department of Defense. This was big.
We were under attack and defense HQ was in the middle of the
battle. What could America do? And more
importantly, what would be next? We lived close enough to Minneapolis. The IDS tower was an easy target.
“My mom works in the IDS,” One girl
whispered in near tears to a friend as we watched in silence. Just before class ended, one 100 plus story
building became a pile of rubble and smoke.
Yet, the bell still rang and life went on.
Second hour was Orchestra; everyone
was talking about what happened and about continuing to watch. I had forgotten we were having a substitute that
day. We asked about watching the news
and she said no. So we asked if we could
have the TV on mute while we practiced.
She said no. During our short
breaks everyone talked about how much of an un-American Nazi she was. Someone who had gotten a hall pass reported
that the other tower fell and a chunk of the Pentagon had collapsed and a plane
had crashed in Pennsylvania, all while we practiced a menial piece of music for
a concert that was two months away.
Third hour was Spanish. The action had slowed significantly, but I
had forgotten we had a sub in that class as well, and not just any sub;
Mr.Kratt. Mr. Kratt was the coolest sub
ever and would always start class by entertaining the students, but not
today. He simply said, “Wow. There are just no words for what has happened
today.” He went on about how things have
slowed down so he will keep the tv on mute but we will still do the
lesson. He also reminded us that Profé
was in San Diego and supposed to return tomorrow, but all flights have been
grounded so she may not be back for a few days.
I did my work, peeked at the news occasionally,
and fourth hour Math passed without any major event. Once I got home I was ready to get my mind
off everything with some entertaining TV, specifically my after-school favorite;
TRL. But MTV had been overtaken by the
news, as well as every other channel. My
only hope for mind-numbing television was within the stations intended for
children. Nickelodeon had not been taken
over by the news, but I had seen that episode of Spongebob so many times I was
sick of it. I went to my room to listen
to some music on the radio, also overtaken by news. Ugh!
At least by this time, one of my
much younger friends from the neighborhood would be coming home on the school
bus any second now. I went out to her
stop and looked for her as the bus pulled up to the corner. She
must be sitting on the other side. I
watched the kids get off. She wasn’t
among them. She never stayed after
school. She always took the bus. The only reason she might skip school is if
she was visiting her aunts and uncles…in New York City! I panicked and ran to meet up with one of her
classmates. Just as I reached him I remembered;
it’s Tuesday. Tuesdays she went to
Hebrew school. Whew! I made it look like I had still had a point
to talk to the guy I was now walking next to.
“So did you guys watch TV all day too?”
“No, it was pretty much all over by
the time we left for school.”
I don’t remember much from the rest
of that day. I think I watch the
presidential address later that night. I
remember in the days to come everyone shared their story. Where they were, what they felt, people they
were worried about. “Current events” the
next day had just one heading: 9/11 terrorist attacks. I remember my Spanish teacher’s story about
where she was and how she had to drive halfway across the country to get
home. I remember the patriotism that
followed. Everyone loved America.
My 9/11 doesn’t end there. It ends in 2003. Since 2000 the orchestra had planned to go to
Austin, Texas in 2003 and New York City in 2009. The class of 1999 had gone to New York and
our Director had shared about the experiences the first day of school, including
the view from the top of the towers.
Later in 2001 it was determined that we would be going to New York in
2003 instead, and we would be missing one amazing view from the top of the twin
towers. We did however see the bottom.
We went to ground zero at
night.
There was a chain-link fence surrounding
the area.
It was the largest cement hole
I had ever seen. At the back corner, about a half a mile from where we were
standing, there was a bulldozer shoveling rubble from a pile about a quarter mile
wide and at least one hundred feet deep.
They still had that much to clean up in June of 2003.
That is my answer to the question
of our generation: Where were you on 9/11 2001?
Teachers can often feel under-appreciated for all the hard work
they put in on a daily basis. Being a teacher is not easy, and being a great
teacher is even harder. So let your child's teacher know how much you
appreciate his or her investment in your child's future by writing a sincere
letter of gratitude. If you need help getting started, try finishing
these sentences:
#4: Something For The Classroom (Ask first!)
