"a plane crashed into the world trade center"

i remember it like it was yesterday. i was in 6th grade, sitting in 1st hour social studies with mrs. kirk teaching about the world and all of the different countries. the librarian suddenly came in and told my teacher that a plane had crashed into the world trade center. my teacher completely changed her demeanor from excited and enthusiastic to frantic and concerned. she quickly attained at television and turned it on. she explained to us what the trade towers were with tears streaming down her face. she quietly went to the back of the room while we all sat in awe. about 15 minutes later, a second airplane crashed into the towers.

we watched in disbelief, now aware that this was no fluke occasion. aware that this had been planned. realizing america was being attacked. i was scared, terrified, that somehow, they would find my small town in wisconsin, and target my middle school. i remembered my grandmother telling me of her times in england during WWII. she was on a bus, and the driver told them they had to stop and run into the bomb shelter. my grandmother was only a few blocks away from home, so she ran there instead of to the shelter. the next day, she walked to the bus stop and saw that the shelter the driver had told everyone to go into had been bombed. no one on her bus was still living. it sent shivers down my back and i realized at that moment, 11 years old, that i would never forget september 11, 2001.

after my teacher decided it would be more beneficial to get back to school, the librarian came in a third time to tell us of the pentagon crash. the television went on again. my teacher no longer tried to teach class. this was more important. we needed to know what was going on, how president bush was handling it, what was happening with the towers, what the new yorkers were doing, who was assaulting our country.

the rest of the day passed in a blur. i remember going to each class, and having each teacher tell us over and over again what had happened. learning the planned material was no longer on the agenda. no one could focus on science or reading, we all had the same things on our mind, students and teachers alike. i specifically remember 5th hour, my band teacher standing in front of my class in a respectful position with his hands behind his back, asking us if we knew what happened- what the world trade center was, if we knew what terrorists were. he began crying. i had known this teacher since i was 5. he was my brother's band teacher in high school and had recently switched to middle school. he couldn't handle the disaster, and put on the large screen television for us to watch. he had done all he could to try to help us understand.

when i arrived home, my mother was waiting outside on the bench for me. she ran up to me, crying, hugging me and telling me how much she loved me. i felt so loved, so thankful to be alive and have my family members safe. that night we watched president bush's speech about declaring war- he said at most a year.

now, exactly 8 years later, we still have people in iraq fighting, trying to find these people who did this to us, who tore so many families apart, who changed so many lives. last year, i had the chance to go to new york city. my mother and i visited ground zero and i flashed back to this memory, watching it on television, sitting in 6th grade, unaware of the consequence of such actions. this event has made a profound difference in my life. i thank everyone who helped in the disaster- the fireman, the nurses and doctors, the news casters. and i am sorry, from the bottom of my heart, for anyone who lost a love one in the truly tragic event. god bless.