A day I will never forget.
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It is sad to say that one of the topics that unites generations of people is the answer to the question, 'Where were you when..." Regardless of country of origin or age, everyone has one. For Americans of my generation, there are at least three of these unifying and terrible events. If one is at a gathering and has a desire to strike up a very serious, somber, yet engaging conversation; it can be easily sparked by, "Where were you when President Ronald Reagan was shot?" or "Where were you when the space shuttle Challenger exploded?" or "Where were you on September 11, 2001?"
As I sit to write this piece, I have intentionally avoided going back to research the exact details and order of events from 9/11. I want this to be my story as I remember it from that tragic day. It's been fifteen years so I know my details won't be perfect. I'm sure my brain has played tricks on me in order to help me comprehend and accept the devastating events of that day. Perfect or not, these are my memories and emotions from September 11, 2001.
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I was in my third year of teaching high school students with special needs. At that time, I co-taught a World History class with a general education teacher named Bill. He and I would start each morning by working together to put the finishing touches on the day's lesson. That morning was no different... until another teacher (who would retire at the end of that emotional year) entered our classroom and exclaimed, "A plane just crashed into one of the World Trade Center buildings in New York". Bill and I looked at each other. I distinctly remember shaking my head and saying, "What kind of idiot would be dumb enough to fly a plane in downtown New York?" I caught myself and changed my position to, "Unless there was some kind of mechanical failure or something". When I made each statement, I was picturing only one thing in my head: a small single engine airplane (like a Cessna) accidentally colliding with a building.
From mzeroa
We were lucky enough to have cable television in our classroom so we quickly turned on CNN. It only took one image, and a few seconds to process what I had seen, for me to realize that my assumptions were horribly incorrect. Single engine planes do not cause that kind of damage.
Confusion
For several minutes after turning on the television, utter confusion is the only way to describe what Bill, I and the reporters on the television were experiencing. How could this accident have happened? Was the pilot drunk? Was there a computer malfunction? What the hell happened?
As we watched, reporters began to give confusing reports of a hijacking... wait perhaps more than one hijacking? What was going on?
Bill and I didn't have time to find out. While we were processing the information, the school bell sounded. Students began to file into the classroom. They found Bill and I staring at a television in the back of the room.
Photographed by Dan Sears
"What's going on?" "What are you guys doing?” “Cool! Are we watching a movie?", the students asked as they entered the room. I turned to them and said, "We honestly aren't sure yet, but there's been a pretty big accident in New York."
I believe I was still holding out hope that there was still some inconceivably slim possibly that this was indeed just an accident. A few moments later, that ridiculously slim possibly vanished... as we all watched in horror as the second plane exploded into the other Twin Tower. Twenty six students and two teachers stood dumbfounded in unified, terrible and tragic silence.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to lash out. But there were 26 fifteen-year-old children counting on me... so I held it together (as much as I could).
I need to take breath and collect myself before continuing. I will post the second part of the story this afternoon.