I remember this day so clearly. It was a Tuesday. I was a sophomore in high school. I was wearing my favorite pair of jeans and a pink tank top with my sparkly star belt. I was up early that morning like any other high school student. Turned the TV onto the news like usual and saw that they were reporting that a plane had crashed into one of the world trade center buildings in NYC. I didn't know what was going on. I thought of course it was an accident... until i saw with live feed with my own eyes the second plane crash into the other tower. My step dad was really into watching the news that morning. My mom was still in bed but staggered out wanting to know what was going on.

I left for school and was a bit worried on what was going on. I remember talking with my friends. Wondering if we were next. If a plane was going to crash into our school. We didn't quite understand. In my world history class we just watched the news. Most kids were busy talking with their friends and not paying attention. But not me.. I was really curious as to what was happening.

I remember going home that night and feeling helpless. I wanted to be on the next train (who wanted to be on a plane at this point?) to NYC to help. To be a part of the search and rescue team. To find people alive. I remember writing it down in my diary that night with tears in my eyes. It really hit me hard like most Americans. I was scared, sad, and proud. Proud to be an American. The following weeks at school I wore my red, white, and blue stripped pin on my shirt to show this. A lot of kids did.

To this day I still think about all the people who lost their lives and the ones who sacrificed their lives. I'm thankful for the men and women who helped when I so badly wanted to.
Thank you to those of you who gave so much for our country.

On a more happy note,

1 comment:

Melissa said...

What a meaningful post. Being born and raised in NY, I'm always interested in hearing people from around the country's experiences from that day. Thanks for sharing.