… it was a beautiful morning. I was a senior in high school, it was still early in the school year and I was already looking forward to graduating and going to college. I remember it was just as clear a morning as it was in New York and in Washington D.C. and the temperature had started to cool off after the hot summer months.
I was sitting in my first class of that day, honors psychology, with one of my favorite teachers, Mr. Ritter. I don’t remember the specific topic that he was lecturing on but I do remember that Mr. Orr, the basketball coach and history teacher, knocked on the door, let himself in, and told Mr. Ritter to turn on the TV. He said that some planes had flown into the World Trade Center in New York City. Mr. Ritter was able to put the TV signal through a projector and we watched on a big screen as the horrifying events of that day unfolded. There was not a sound as we watched, we were all stunned and watched in quiet.
Needless to say we didn’t get much done the rest of the day. Time came for us to switch classes, my next class was supposed to be English. Ms. Nicholson, the teacher of that class, was friends with Mr. Ritter and she took us back to his classroom to continue to watch. We watched to our horror as the towers fell to the ground. We heard that a plane had crashed into the Pentagon and another had crashed in a Pennsylvania field, and I was scared. We didn’t stay for the entire length of that second class period. Ms. Nicholson took us back to her classroom and asked us to write down our feelings at that moment.
We didn’t understand who this could be, we had no idea. We knew that this was likely going to lead to war. Seeing as how I was about to turn 18, I was thinking that they might reinstitute the draft. Ms. Nicholson asked us to share some of our thoughts. We were all scared and I was not alone in fearing the draft.
That class ended and I didn’t have a scheduled third class. I skipped lunch and sped home to watch more TV coverage. I didn’t learn much, it was just more speculation and coverage of the fallout. Time came for me to return to campus, I had a fourth period class and it was band. By that time there was already an attempt to make the day as normal as possible and we went out and practiced marching.
The Greatest Generation had Pearl Harbor, Baby Boomers had JFK’s assassination, our generation has September 11, 2001. I will always remember where I was that day and even though it is nine years later I am still able to recollect all that I did that day. I think it is a shame that we have moved on as far as we have. This day should not be about waving the flag and ginning up more patriotism but it should be about simply remembering. In an attempt to move on I am afraid that we will forget, I pray that never happens. This post is my attempt to keep the memories alive.
