9/11
As a child, I had always heard adults talking about how they will never forget where they were when John F Kennedy was assassinated, or when Pearl Harbor was attacked. I was fascinated by that. I wanted an event to happen in my life that was so big, I would never forget the day that it happened, nor would anybody else. Unfortunately, events like this almost never seem to be good ones.
On September 11, 2001 I had gotten up for school, like any other day with about five minutes left before the bus would come. I would scarf down a bowl of cereal, squeezing in a few breaths in between each bite (if I had time), brush my teeth and hair and fly out the door to the bus stop. I had only been in school for about two weeks and I had just entered high school, nothing seemed normal to me. All the kids on the bus were older and meaner. No one in the school had any respect for an eighth grader and I had just entered the “rebellious” stage in my life.
My first hour dragged on as usual. Algebra wasn’t of much interest to me in the eighth grade. All I cared about was being really funny and trying to make girls laugh. After another unsuccessful attempt of getting the girls attention I moved on to my woodshop class. This class was a joke, I loved it. I was able to put minimum effort into the class and still get an A. What made this day even more special was that the shop teacher was late to class. It was kind of exciting, all I remember thinking was how much I wished I was in a class where I had more friends in.
Mr. Ogg, my woodshop teacher came into the classroom about ten minutes later. He seemed unsettled; I’ll never forget the look on his face. He announced to the class that something very bad had happened. He told us that one of the twin towers was struck by a plane. I had no idea what he was talking about. I had never heard of the twin towers. I had asked Mr. Ogg some questions about the building but I didn’t understand much, just that it was important.
A few minutes later he announced another plane had hit the other tower. Things were starting to get exciting to me. I didn’t understand the enormity of what was going on in our country. What really affected me was when I had heard that the Pentagon was hit. I understood what the Pentagon was, or so I thought. All I knew about the Pentagon was that it was important because in all of the movies I had watched, all the bad guys wanted to blow up the Pentagon. I was beginning to get scared. I started thinking about the draft and if I would have to join the army. I quickly put the thoughts behind me and got excited about a free day at school. None of the teachers made us do any work that day.
I went home excited to tell my mom about the news. I ran home from the bus stop and jumped in through the front door. My mom was sitting on the couch watching the TV. She kept telling me “This isn’t good,” and “This is really bad.” I was shocked to see my mom so upset. It was at this moment I started to understand how bad things were. My dad came home from work completely shocked. It obviously meant more to adults than it did to the kids.
When asked about 9/11 and what was going on in my life when it occurred, I find myself racking my brain for the details. Of course I remember where I was when I heard the towers had been struck but I don’t remember much after that. I remember very small details from a couple of other classes but not all of them. I was curious if it was just me who couldn’t remember, or if it was all kids around my age. I asked a few of my friends what they remember about 9/11 and most of them remember the specific moment of when they had found out what had happened to the towers, but the rest of the day isn’t always remembered with as much detail. I think this is because we were so young. Not young enough to not remember at all but too young to appreciate the impact it would have
Recently, the United States recognized the five year anniversary of 9/11. This time it felt a little different to me. My mom passed away from cancer in May and I have been trying to deal with this loss. She was my best friend and go to person for all of my problems and now I have to deal with these things on my own. It kind of makes me think of how all the other families had to deal with the sudden loss of a parent and a spouse. I understand now the feeling of losing someone very close to you. Almost 3,000 people died in the attacks and all of those people had a family. Watching the video of those buildings falling down is still upsetting to watch.
So I finally have had the experience I always thought would be so exciting. An event that I will tell my children about, how I remember the exact spot I was in when I found out. Sadly, it is an experience that I wish hadn’t happened but tragedies tend to stick in our minds more than the good events that occur in our lives. Hopefully this will be the only bad event I’ll have to experience.
As a child, I had always heard adults talking about how they will never forget where they were when John F Kennedy was assassinated, or when Pearl Harbor was attacked. I was fascinated by that. I wanted an event to happen in my life that was so big, I would never forget the day that it happened, nor would anybody else. Unfortunately, events like this almost never seem to be good ones.
On September 11, 2001 I had gotten up for school, like any other day with about five minutes left before the bus would come. I would scarf down a bowl of cereal, squeezing in a few breaths in between each bite (if I had time), brush my teeth and hair and fly out the door to the bus stop. I had only been in school for about two weeks and I had just entered high school, nothing seemed normal to me. All the kids on the bus were older and meaner. No one in the school had any respect for an eighth grader and I had just entered the “rebellious” stage in my life.
My first hour dragged on as usual. Algebra wasn’t of much interest to me in the eighth grade. All I cared about was being really funny and trying to make girls laugh. After another unsuccessful attempt of getting the girls attention I moved on to my woodshop class. This class was a joke, I loved it. I was able to put minimum effort into the class and still get an A. What made this day even more special was that the shop teacher was late to class. It was kind of exciting, all I remember thinking was how much I wished I was in a class where I had more friends in.
Mr. Ogg, my woodshop teacher came into the classroom about ten minutes later. He seemed unsettled; I’ll never forget the look on his face. He announced to the class that something very bad had happened. He told us that one of the twin towers was struck by a plane. I had no idea what he was talking about. I had never heard of the twin towers. I had asked Mr. Ogg some questions about the building but I didn’t understand much, just that it was important.
A few minutes later he announced another plane had hit the other tower. Things were starting to get exciting to me. I didn’t understand the enormity of what was going on in our country. What really affected me was when I had heard that the Pentagon was hit. I understood what the Pentagon was, or so I thought. All I knew about the Pentagon was that it was important because in all of the movies I had watched, all the bad guys wanted to blow up the Pentagon. I was beginning to get scared. I started thinking about the draft and if I would have to join the army. I quickly put the thoughts behind me and got excited about a free day at school. None of the teachers made us do any work that day.
I went home excited to tell my mom about the news. I ran home from the bus stop and jumped in through the front door. My mom was sitting on the couch watching the TV. She kept telling me “This isn’t good,” and “This is really bad.” I was shocked to see my mom so upset. It was at this moment I started to understand how bad things were. My dad came home from work completely shocked. It obviously meant more to adults than it did to the kids.
When asked about 9/11 and what was going on in my life when it occurred, I find myself racking my brain for the details. Of course I remember where I was when I heard the towers had been struck but I don’t remember much after that. I remember very small details from a couple of other classes but not all of them. I was curious if it was just me who couldn’t remember, or if it was all kids around my age. I asked a few of my friends what they remember about 9/11 and most of them remember the specific moment of when they had found out what had happened to the towers, but the rest of the day isn’t always remembered with as much detail. I think this is because we were so young. Not young enough to not remember at all but too young to appreciate the impact it would have
Recently, the United States recognized the five year anniversary of 9/11. This time it felt a little different to me. My mom passed away from cancer in May and I have been trying to deal with this loss. She was my best friend and go to person for all of my problems and now I have to deal with these things on my own. It kind of makes me think of how all the other families had to deal with the sudden loss of a parent and a spouse. I understand now the feeling of losing someone very close to you. Almost 3,000 people died in the attacks and all of those people had a family. Watching the video of those buildings falling down is still upsetting to watch.
So I finally have had the experience I always thought would be so exciting. An event that I will tell my children about, how I remember the exact spot I was in when I found out. Sadly, it is an experience that I wish hadn’t happened but tragedies tend to stick in our minds more than the good events that occur in our lives. Hopefully this will be the only bad event I’ll have to experience.
posted by Justin at 10:48 PM
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