I was in my 12th grade art classroom. The teacher got called out of class, and everyone was talking. Somehow, girls started talking about planes and crashes. I have no idea how that information got into the classroom. The teacher had just gone out- she didn't even know until then. And that wasn't the age of smartphones, where a kid could just check the news in 10 seconds.
Girls were saying that two planes crashed into each other and fell on buildings in Manhattan. An assembly was called, and we were appraised of the events. I was only 17. I had lived in Brooklyn most of my life. I didn't really know the layout of Manhattan. I didn't realize the significance of what happened just yet. I remember ashes flying into our school auditorium windows. My mother worked in Manhattan, but I didn't think this affected her. I wasn't worried. She didn't work near the Twin Towers, and luckily she was still on her way to work when all this took place. She saw the second plane hit and a fireball fly out of the tower.
This is definitely the single most traumatic event I had lived through, even though it didn't affect any of my family members personally.
I was too young then, and had limited internet access/knowledge. But now, all the photos and videos are out there, unavoidable. I've been watching clips, last night and today. I now have a whole new dimension of understanding of the true horror.
There are stories of unbelievable courage, selflessness and strength. May our nation always show these attributes, every day.
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