I woke up on the morning of September 11, 2001, thinking that it was going to be a pretty typical day. As I've been watching the presentations of smouldering buildings and emergency rescue teams on TV from ten years ago, I am reminded of how that day was anything but typical.
I think it was a Tuesday. I was on my way to Mr. Simpson's eighth grade science class. We were supposed to make ice cream that day. For whatever reason, I was running late to class. As I rushed in at the last minute, I noticed that there was an eerie silence in the classroom (rare for a class of 20+ eighth graders). Our classroom TV was on, another oddity as most of our class time consisted of labs and lectures. When I started trying to figure out what was happening, I thought the whole thing was a joke. It looked like something that would be seen in a movie. Although the gravity and significance of the day could not have possibly hit me to the fullest extent at the age of thirteen, I slowly began to realize that this was really happening, and people were likely to remember it for years to come. Needless to say, the ice cream making was postponed, as were most activities during the rest of our school day.
I can't really imagine what that day must have been like for so many people. I was able to pick up and move on with my life shortly after the big incident, but I know there were many people who were not able to do so. My heart still goes out to those people, who are surely missing their loved ones today.
I also think about the men who were sick enough to commit such a terrible act. I feel sad for them and their families. My initial reaction toward them in eighth grade was anger, but now I just feel sadness in thinking about how lost they must be to have their hope for redemption in driving a plane through a building. What a waste of a life!
"It is Tuesday morning, the eleventh of September, and you will not forget this date," said the news reporter. Ten years later, we certainly haven't forgotten.
